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airplanelanding · 2 months ago

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Shen Yuan hated doctors. When he was a kid, he hated them because they were scary and always wanted to give him shots. Then, he got older, learned a bit more, grew a bit more, and found himself growing more neutral on them. They were a necessary evil.

Then, he fainted for the first time at seventeen, on his way home from exams.

After that, his life became nothing but doctors and tests and new medications. Each appointment made his resentment grow stronger. Every time, it was just a new doctor finding a new way to say he'd be sick for the rest of his life, the only treatment for his condition being lifestyle changes for symptom management and various attempts at medications that had a fifty-fifty chance of working or making him feel worse.

He grew tired as the years passed and his condition steadily grew worse. Symptoms and flare-ups that used to occur a few times a month, turned into a few times a week, turned into nearly every day. Things he used to do with ease turned into distant memories. Sports, dance, martial arts... Even grocery shopping, he found difficult by the time he was 24, the extended period of time on his feet and walking around something he was unable to handle anymore.

The minimization of his pain and suffering and struggling by doctors only made his resentment grow tenfold. "It's not that serious," or "it's not life-threatening," or a plethora of other ways they would minimize his illness, as if he didn't go from the Darling of the Shen's in Higher Society to a rumored recluse who didn't even leave his home to eat. As if he hadn't been forced to.

And sure, that resentment didn't just remain contained to being aimed at the doctors who never took him seriously and told him to just drink more water and exercise better, but Shen Yuan had little else to do anymore. So, he went online, he fell too far, and he became the infamous Peerless Cucumber. So what? Little else brought him joy anymore, gave him reason to live anymore. So what if he was a bitch to some shitty author?

He would forever defend his actions and words against the crime against literature that was Proud Immortal Demon Way.

He knows his logic is flawed. He had anger pent up for so long and he let it out against an un-involved source. In his defense, PIDW really was fucking terrible.

That's not the point here. The point is, Shen Yuan hated doctors. He hated them. And now, living as Shen Qingqiu -- given another chance at life only to fuck it up and get poisoned by Without-a-Cure -- he finds himself trying very, very hard to give Mu Qingfang the grace he never gave his doctors as Shen Yuan, and not fire undeserved vitriol his way despite the way the original owner of his body would have without a second thought.

Even now, as he sits on an overly familiar infirmary bed as Mu Qingfang stares at him with that overly familiar look of exasperation and concern, he reigns in the frustration simmering under his skin.

He bites the inside of his cheek and avoids worrisome eyes.

"Shen-shixiong pushed himself too far, again," Mu Qingfang says lightly, with careful, deliberate intonation.

It takes a painful amount of self-control and restraint not to scream.

He thought he was over this! He thought this was done! He left being sick, being weak, in his past life and still, still it fucking finds him again and haunts him.

Instead of screaming, he huffs through his nose.

Mu Qingfang frowns.

"If Mu-shidi could simply provide this shixiong with his prescription, this one would be most grateful," Shen Qingqiu says, with a tone so sickeningly polite it couldn't even begin to be mistaken for sincere. In his lap, his hands grip his closed fan with whitened knuckles.

"The medicine is not an end-all-be-all for your symptoms, Shixiong," Mu Qingfang sighs. "It can only do so much, you still must take care of yourself alongside it's use..."

Despite his words, he still summons his Head Disciple and passes along the prescription refill order to her, to take off to the greenhouse where it will be formulated and portioned out in the necessary doses.

"You should have come to me sooner if you were out," Mu Qingfang chides.

Shen Qingqiu does not deny this. Still, he argues, more childish than elegant. "Mu-shidi has been busy as of late with the illness spreading in town."

"I didn't know Shixiong was so selfless," Mu Qingfang replies, with the faintest hint of sass in his tone, "to ignore his own declining health in favor of the masses, which this one's disciples are more than capable of taking care of."

Shen Qingqiu purses his lips, but says no more. Mu Qingfang reaches for his wrist, and he wordlessly provides it.

After a moment, a soft sigh falls from the physician's lips.

"How long has it been since Liu-shixiong cleared your meridians?" he asks.

He already knows the answer, he's merely giving Shen Qingqiu a chance at honesty.

Shen Qingqiu does not take it.

"Let me guess, he is too busy, as well?" Mu Qingfang raises a pointed eyebrow. "Perhaps this one should go and find him, ask him if he is truly so busy as to neglect his duties to his Shixiong."

"You've made your point," Shen Qingqiu finally snaps, and his words come out harsher than he means them to. A little bit of that sharp, venomous vitriol spits out, frustration and resentment bubbling over the surface before he quickly tamps it back down and takes a breath. Calmer, he repeats, "you've made your point, Mu-shidi. This one will do better in future."

For what it's worth, Mu Qingfang appears to take no offense from his shixiong's sharp-edged strike.

"I surely do hope you mean that," he says softly. It makes Shen Qingqiu's chest grow heavy with a strange sort of guilt, the gentleness with which Mu Qingfang speaks those words. He can only avert his eyes and let his tense shoulders sag.

It is only then, once his defenses have dropped even minutely, that Mu Qingfang finally sets to work.

Cool qi pours into his meridians, but it is not uncomfortable or invasive like one may think. Instead, with it comes an unusual sense of comfort, relief, and refreshment. Like a drink of cold, crisp water at 3am after a nightmare that startled him awake.

Mu Qingfang's spiritual energy rarely feels like the foreign presence it is in his veins.

Never would Shen Qingqiu admit that out loud, though. Not even Liu Qingge's qi could bring him this level of comfort during their usual cleansing sessions. It is familiar and warm, but utterly different from Mu Qingfang's.

Not to mention, the precision with which Mu Qingfang navigates his spiritual veins, untangling and unblocking each point with little trouble. He struggles here and there, at the more aggravated spots, of course. Still, never once does Shen Qingqiu find himself in a place of discomfort.

It's hard, when Mu Qingfang finally finishes his treatment and retracts his qi and hand, to not slump down from the sheer relief Shen Qingqiu feels. His body is lighter, his breath comes easier -- hell, even his vision feels clearer. Mu Qingfang takes a step back and Shen Qingqiu allows himself the inelegance of stretching out his no longer aching limbs.

Mu Qingfang has seen him in worse states, a little relieved stretching is nothing to blink at. Once he's satisfied, Shen Qingqiu sits up straight on the infirmary bed and looks across the room, away from Mu Qingfang.

"Thanking Mu-shidi for his aid," he murmurs.

Mu Qingfang hums. Just then, his Head Disciple returns with his medication. Mu Qingfang accepts it from her with a few quiet words, before sending her back off to attend to the patients in her wing.

"This should last you longer than the last batch," Mu Qingfang tells him as he passes over the medicinal tea. "So you don't find yourself in another difficult position, should you be off the mountain when you typically begin to run low."

Shen Qingqiu accepts the prescription silently, his brows furrowed.

"Likewise this shidi will begin preparations for Shixiong's next batch early, so it will already be ready for delivery by the time you need it." Mu Qingfang pauses, hesitates. "Unless, Shixiong feels that this shidi is being too over-bearing?"

Ah, does his throat feel a little tight? Shen Qingqiu swallows thickly and exhales, staring at the small box of tea. He shakes his head once, almost imperceptibly.

"That is...acceptable," he mutters.

He does not need to look at Mu Qingfang to know he is smiling.

Shen Yuan hated doctors. Shen Qingqiu still hates doctors.

Mu Qingfang, however...

Yes, he can be infuriating at times, and a little patronizing even if he doesn't mean to be -- but that's just it. He doesn't mean it. He cares.

That's it. That's the difference. He wants to help not because it is his job, but because he cares about Shen Qingqiu. And yes, it was a long time before he was able to, but Shen Qingqiu can admit that now. Just like...just like he can admit the existence of the warmth that spreads over his chest when he sees Mu Qingfang's eyes crinkle with a smile just because Shen Qingqiu has finally let him take care of him.

He hates doctors, but Mu Qingfang is not just a doctor. He never has, and never will be, just a doctor.

Shen Qingqiu thanks him once more and takes his leave from the infirmary room, heart pounding against his ribs in a way he wishes deeply he could still ignore. Too many gentle, tender touches and quiet murmurs of concern have beat the ignorance out of him.

Ah, maybe one day, when he learns how to stop being a coward, he won't be just a shidi, either...

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shusha520 · 2 months ago

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In short, in general, the idea came to me quite suddenly when I was making another animatic, the idea is that Macaques after death became like something of a restless spirit, and Wukong is more emotionally and psychologically crushed after Liu-er's death, through his fault, in fact, Macaques for the first three hundred years just roughly speaking, he mocked Wukong by sending all sorts of gags there (I've already gotten bored with this animation too, hahaha), for example, when he was taking a bath, the Macaque got bored and created the illusion that it was a pool with the blood and corpses of his fellow journey. And Wukong hadn't slept properly for almost 100 years because of nightmares and eternal anxiety, he decided that he was completely crazy and had a tantrum. This was the key moment when the Macaque gave up. Aw, okay, how can you hate this jerk if he looks like a beaten puppy. Although he was still resentful that Wukong had killed him

In general, now the Macaques just play pranks sometimes, to hide the peaches, to trip up there, so nothing special.

And when he was resurrected by LBD, there was no hatred for Wukong as such, but Macaque is a good actor. Now he's alive, which means he can get Wukong again, and then there are a few events from the series, and so on and so on.

I'm still thinking about how they'll reconcile.

Another favorite of mine in this AU is that Wukong cannot see the spirit of the Macaque, even with the eyes of truth, but sometimes he felt someone's presence, but these were such rare moments that he often forgot about it. True, over the past hundred years, after the conclusion of the BDK, these moments have become more frequent, but Wukong has thrown off his crazy the state after the battle.

And the sweetest thing was, while Wukong was rummaging inside himself again, the Macaque was trying to distract this stupid monkey from his sad thoughts. Hey, he's the only one here who has the right to torture Wukong! What the hell is the Bull Demon King rebelling about!? Wukong had just started sleeping well, and here he was again? The macaque waved his tail irritably, he never really liked the brotherhood. The ghost sighed, don't care, there are more important things to do. For example, Wukong, which is frowning in a dream again. Macaque flew up to the golden monkey and placed his ghostly palm on his forehead, sending some of his magic, calming him down. Wukong's face immediately relaxed, and he unconsciously reached for the ghostly coolness. Macaque grinned, Wukong is still the same. Without thinking for long, the dark monkey left a short kiss on the king's forehead, after which he moved behind his back and hugged him. The advantages of being a ghost are that you walk through objects. Cons: you can't feel the warmth from someone else's body. At this thought, the Macaque frowned, but then shuddered at the unexpected warmth. Wukong released some of his magic, giving it to him. Unknowingly. Huh, what a fool. Macaque wrapped Wukong more tightly in his arms.

Sleep well, my king, I will always be there for you.

#lmk #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #doodles #lmk liu er mihou #lmk au

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pomefioredove · 5 months ago

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Hi, can I have a sugar cookie, #16, with chocolate drizzle?

order #16, sugar with chocolate drizzle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ it'll pass

tropes: exes to lovers characters: leona additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, post-nrc, a little bittersweet, for those thinking they wouldn't forgive him and would marry rook instead, I understand, yes this is a fleabag reference <3

That question, that bitter uncertainty that had caged itself in your chest, behind your ribs, by your heart, had not passed.

It will pass, you had said, your friends had said, even he had said it himself.

It'll pass.

And then, the question. But what if it doesn't?

What if you never forget Leona Kingscholar?

What will you do with this love, now that there's no one to give it to?

It becomes grief, and pain. Bitterness, anger, resentment, longing, desire.

It becomes a secret, it becomes a question.

But what if it doesn't?

You had, at first, slept too much; but then that reminded you of him, and you stopped sleeping altogether.

You began writing, not fiction, nor letters, but your thoughts, if only to get them on paper and out of your head.

Most days, they were nonsense. A procession of words and feelings with no meaning, nor sense, nor relationship between one another.

Bird, television, cold, knocking, tired, tired, tired...

It always ended with that.

And it always began with Why? Why, what? Why did he leave you? Why didn't you stop him? Why can't you move on? Why any of these things?

It was strange.

You were the one destined to leave. When you and Leona fell in love, in your years at Night Raven College, that threat loomed over you both.

One day, you would leave.

Leona still became yours. He was the one constant in your life, the only person you could really rely on. He cared about you, more than he'd ever admit.

Likewise, he had never said that he wanted you to stay, but you knew he did.

It didn't matter. Crowley never found a way home, or perhaps he did, and didn't tell you, but again, it didn't matter. You graduated NRC, and went to Leona.

You were happy, too.

And then he was suddenly betrothed to a duchess, to have a family he never wanted, in a position he resented, and that was that.

It'll pass.

That's all he had said when you told him you loved him.

"I love you,"

"It'll pass,"

You wanted him to stay, like he did to you.

It'll pass.

You became despondent, sleepless. You found shelter and companionship in the form of an affluent Rook Hunt, when you had no one else to call.

But he, too, must leave. For months, the villa is empty, and it's only you and your disconnected words and your paper and the night.

One day, there's a letter for you.

Not for Rook, or for the household, but for you.

It has no name, no initials, no return address. It's not signed. It's typed. It says:

French, confused, nosy, prick, soft, missing, quiet.

So on, so forth. Hundreds of those words, meaningless and senseless and yet special, precious, worthy.

You hold the letter to your heart and the ink smudges on your sweaty hands.

There's another the next day. Quiet, manners, hate, missing, windows, dark.

And one more after that.

Boring, empty, doves, missing, water, spoon.

They come, one after the other, until Rook returns at the end of the month, freckled from the sun and tired from his work.

"Ah... an admirer?" he had asked, listening to you read the letters aloud.

"They aren't from you?"

"From me? Heh. I like to think my prose is a little more cohesive, non?"

You wake the next morning to breakfast, courtesy of Rook, and a letter, courtesy of the wind.

This one only has one word on it.

Sorry.

No more come after that.

The news that Prince Leona had broken off his engagement to the wealthy duchess reaches you in your remote room, through the sharp eyes and upturned lips of a certain Rook Hunt.

Unhappy, was the word, this time.

It was bitterly poetic. Unhappy. It reminded you of something you had written, but when you went looking for that, you were met with an empty sheet of stamps, and a drawer with no paper in it.

"You must forgive me," Rook had said, "I could not bear to see you both suffer so."

The mysterious letters, your "admirer", suddenly make sense.

The next day, another letter comes. But this one is special; it's attached to a hand, that of a certain Leona Kingscholar.

This one, too, has a full sentence.

I love you too.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #queued

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 1 year ago

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Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head.

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused.

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam.

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking.

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain.

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you?

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it.

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of.

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for.

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you.

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you.

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much.

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary.

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words.

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad.

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away.

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started.

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves.

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up.

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh.

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over.

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself.

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do.

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day.

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort.

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve.

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet.

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him.

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence?

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face.

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did.

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm.

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped.

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged.

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted.

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out.

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow.

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame.

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not.

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good.

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear.

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread.

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself.

They lied.

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust.

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you.

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you.

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out.

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again.

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you.

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly.

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth.

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says.

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched.

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks.

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there.

The older four men look at eachother knowingly.

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously.

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 7 months ago

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I just got the 'Alfred is not a good man' vid from tik-tok so I'm a little worried about the fic I've been making but I'm doing some of my deep dive to really know if this is just one person's depiction or opinion about him.

I just got really into Batfamily for like what 2-3 months ago (not including the ones I made long ago those were like one off from just basic understanding of other fics I read).

From what I have gathered which was only two information (for now) was about Alfred's daughter and if Alfred did let the kids become Robins.

In summary his daughter Julia Pennyworth or in another comic Julia Remarque, was the abandoned daughter, She hated/resented Alfred for abandoning her and disgusted that he became a servant of Wayne's which is true BUT in the end though is that both Father and daughter made up after.

and Second is, actually somewhat true I've seen few reddits and blog that have written that in some other comics Alfred did let the batkids become Robin and That's more than enough to know that it was not right BUT according to other versions most of it was just Alfred warning Bruce not to.

that's only thing I can find for now tho so please if anyone can help I'd like to gets some fact check to be sure.

For now I'm still comforted by the fact most of it doesn't apply much to what is really cannon cannon because some comics and issue are like so different or reset too much from the original it's hard to keep track of everything.

I'm not really a dc comic fan since collecting or even finding time to read them has been a hassle for me, I prefer to watch DC movies, cartoons or gameplays with DC lore and YT dc documentary videos from the ones who actually are a fan and read the issues.

This isn't really about justifying what Alfred had done but to know and learn if I could still properly write about him without triggering fans out there cuz I don't really want any trouble.

it's funny how I'm practically praising the man few weeks ago and now my loyalty is wavering.

I have a plan if this doesn't work out but let's just see, it's so weird because of the perfect timing too.

#yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #platonic batfam #x neglected reader #Platonic Alfred Pennyworth #alfred pennyworth

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wontmindd · 1 year ago

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Accidentally In Love | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

PART 1 | PART 2

plot. You and Adam became friends with benefits. The lines of your situationship are blurred. Even more so when you and the First Man get closer and closer. What will it take you to understand that you and Adam are falling in love?

word count. 3.8k

tags. enemies to lovers, sinner!Adam, friends with benefits, sexual content, p in v sex, Adam Has a Heart, falling in love, Reader has wings, Reader is Lucifer's Royal Guard.

TW! this chapter contains an explicit sexual scene, MINORS DNI

taglist. @kaces-mind @call-me-nyxx @serendipitous-fernweh @plutodestr0yedme @luvvnightingalee

a/n. here it is, final chapter! Thank you for reading this silly little fic, I'll for sure write more about Adam soon! Hope you enjoyed it <3

"and now I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like I love you"

—

It’s karaoke night for you and Adam. Yeah, karaoke night. At first it started off as a joke. One time, after an usual afternoon of strenuous intercourse, you and Adam found yourselves singing “Out on the Tiles” by Led Zeppelin. You had decided to put on some music in shuffle to try to muffle up your obscene sounds that both of you understood you couldn’t contain. Next thing you knew you and Adam were performing an improvised gig on the already ruined bed of your room.

“I’m so glad I’m living and gonna tell the world I am” you sang out of your lungs, holding an imaginary mic.

You pointed towards Adam, prompting him to finish the lyrics. Smiling, Adam clenched his hand in a fist to pretend to be on the mic too. He leaned backwards, throwing his head back.

“I got me a fine woman and she says that I’m her man” he sang back, enthusiastically.

This singing shenanigans would happen so often that you decided to set your own karaoke night on Fridays. You and Adam stole a karaoke machine from a bar and installed it in his room. And now he’s holding you by the shoulders, vigorously shaking you in a playful manner as you can’t stop laughing.

“Feels like you’re dying, you’re dying” he sings with all the air he could gather.

You bend in half, this time a real mic in your hand “Youuuuuuu, your sex is on fire”.

Adam mimics a guitar riff with an high pitched voice as you sing along to Kings of Leon.

“Consuuuuuumed, with what’s to transpire!” Adam goes, crouching onwards himself.

Something definitely changed between you and Adam. You still don’t know what it is but it’s pacifying you.

—

The other patrons at the Hotel noticed, even though a bit later. Your relationship was so obviously sexual that none of them really stopped to think if there was more. Until signs started to show.

One time, all of you were watching a movie downstairs. You had forced Adam to participate even if he didn’t want to and was suggesting to have another karaoke night instead. But in the end, you both plopped down on the couch next to each other with everyone and got comfortable in front of a romantic comedy Charlie put on. At first, you and Adam tried to keep your facade of annoyance. You and him were so dense, you didn’t think the others knew that you two were fucking, so you had to pretend to still hate each other. But, as the movie progressed, you and Adam lost your purpose of showing a fake resentment. You glanced down and noticed the tip of your fingers resting really close to Adam’s. His fingers, weirdly enough, were moving in a jerking motion, stroking the fabric of the couch back and forth, as if he was nervous. You moved your fingers closer. With unusual uncertainty from his part, Adam slid his fingers even closer to yours, making them touch. And you and Adam held hands. You decided not to mention it, staring at the TV with your face on fire and his cheeks colored in a red hue. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole movie, and when it ended you separated quickly, again naively thinking that nobody noticed. But, during the movie, Angel had definitely noticed. The spider demon let out one of the loudest gasps in his life as he covered his mouth with four hands. When you and Adam went upstairs later, everyone was still hanging out in the common room. And Angel raised his shoulders and arms.

“Are y’all blind or did you see what I saw?” he asked, almost irritated.

“What?” Cherri asked while mindlessly scrolling on her phone.

“Like, (Y/N) and Adam holding hands?!” he exclaimed, his arms dramatically falling flat on his sides.

“They’ve been fucking like two horny rabbits for months and this is where you draw the line?” Husk questions, raising a red eyebrow.

“Fucking is one thing, holding hands while watching a romantic movie is another!” Angel protest.

Cherri chuckles “It’s obvious by the amount of sex they have that there’s more”.

“Obvious?” Angel questions “Uhhh, hello?? Hate sex is a thing!”.

And that wasn’t the one and only time. Seems so obvious to everyone now, except to you two. It’s in the way you and Adam snuggle during movies, or when you’re cooking and he hugs you from behind, resting his chin in the space between your horns. It’s in the fact that you don’t call each other names anymore unless you’re having sex. Or when you fly around the city together pulling pranks on people, and sing your hearts out during karaoke. Now it’s not only in the way you two wildly wrestle under the sheets. It’s in the goofy way you try to sweep it under the carpet.

“Uh, we’re going upstairs uh to…FIGHT! Definitely not to have sex! Because we hate SEX!” Adam stopped “No wait, I love sex, I mean-“

“We’d HATE to have sex with each other!” you say, trying to back him up.

“Exactly, not with such a stupid cunt!”

“Hey, too much” you whisper, elbowing his side.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry babe”

And everybody looked at you the most unconvinced, inexpressive poker face. But Charlie, underneath, felt that it was heartwarming. Even if Adam whispered in your ear a “can’t wait to fuck your brains out” when displaying apparent affection, she knew that something was going on and it was nothing but beautiful. This is the purpose of the Hazbin Hotel, after all.

—

Honestly you have no idea what you and Adam are right now. First, you were just a Royal Guard who had to surveil the First Man on Earth, the Exterminator. Then you became his friend with benefits. Now sex is still here, but maybe you’re more friends than anything? Or more. Nothing was defined. You never set boundaries. You had your fair chances of getting intimate with other people, but it felt so wrong so you never went for sex. Adam felt the same. When Cherri brought everyone to the club to have a night out, he had his opportunities to have sex with other girls. But he just didn’t feel like it was right. Especially not if you were in the club with him.

“You can do what you like, you know?” you suggested him in his ear one of those times, in a space between the bar counter and the dance floor. But Adam just shook his head.

“Nah, don’t really feel like it. I mean, yeah that bitch with the black top was all over me but she’s not my type”

He tried to play it cool, not looking at you in the eyes. But in reality, Adam was just checking around to see if your friends were looking. And when he made sure that they were out of sight, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. It was unexpected coming from him, sure, but you let yourself melt in his kisses as music bumped in your ears. Something was happening.

—

“Here you are” you say.

Your hair is flowing, moved by the slow but firm flapping of your wings. You’re suspended meters and meters high, just in front of the Hazbin Hotel sign. Adam is sitting on the “Z”, holding his golden guitar in his hands. He looks kinda annoyed.

“I was just practicing guitar” he says.

“And I’m still a Royal Guard on duty”

“If your duty is going at it with the one guy you were supposed to surveil, then you’re already doing a great job”

You roll your eyes and scoff “Funny, very funny Adam”.

“Alright, you can hear me play something” he gives in.

“As long as it’s not Wonderwall”

“The fuck no, I fuckin’ hate the Oasis!”

So, with another flap of your wings, you gracefully land next to him. You expect Adam to go wild with one of his exaggerated, over-the-top and ego-boosting guitar solos. But instead, Adam quietly starts a finger picking, quite tune. It’s not a specific rock song, just a chill, peaceful chord progression. Adam starts humming a tune, eyes closed. You press your elbows against your knees and rest your cheek in the open palm of your hand, looking at the view. Pentagram City is a mess, for sure. But with Adam’s unusually calm vocalizing, and his presence, it feels like home. You peek a look at Adam. He’s still keeping his eyes closed, it’s the first time you see him so calm, and not his loud, immature self. He’s beautiful. You realize that your face is hot. And you can’t see it but your pupils are dangerously dilated. You press your lips together, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Oh you know what’s happening. Maybe you should make it stop. You try to take a deep breath. You’re so in love with Adam.

Adam is lost in his own thoughts and music. He was so comfortable in your presence as he strummed that he almost forgot you were there. He opens his eyes, he just wants to take a quick look at you before closing them again. He realizes that he’s done for the moment he sees how you’re looking at him. With shining eyes, dilated pupils, a fond smile on your face. He doesn’t really realize what it means for you, neither do you. But now his heart is beating at unprecedented speed. Shit, shit, shit. It’s not the first time it happens with you. One time, he felt this way when he woke up before you and saw you sleeping naked next to him, cuddled in his arms. The other was when you held hands for the first time during movie time with the other guests. But this time he’s feeling it on a whole other level. You’re so beautiful. And you’re standing by him listening to his tunes despite the man he is. The one who did so much harm but it’s trying to get better. Adam doesn’t know if he actually has gained any redeeming qualities, but one thing he’s sure about is that at least with you he is a better man. He thinks back on when you two used to argue non stop, resenting each other’s presence. It looks like a far, distant reality that never happened, if anything it’s at least a joke. Adam is so in love with you.

—

Sex still represents the majority of your relationship with Adam. Unlike your feelings, it never changed. Always so loud, fun, satisfying for sure, and unhinged. You and Adam could unleash your personalities at best under the sheets, and that was the best part of it. But this time, something is out of place. Not in a bad way, at all.

Adam is on top of you, placed between your spread legs. His wings are wide open, covering your naked bodies and encapsulating them in a small space reserved to only you two. His thrust are firm, but also slow and sensual, which wasn’t really his style. He’s holding your face with both hands, as he’s mesmerized by your deep moans of pleasure. You cling onto him with nails and legs, holding him as if he was about so slip away. You open your eyes, and catch him staring. He would usually say something sarcastic, like asking the fuck are you looking at. But instead, he looks lost in a profound state of blissful hypnosis, his pupils dilated and mouth slightly parted. Then, Adam plunges forward, still sliding in and out of you with slick sounds. Your breathing becomes even more irregular, hips jerking under his body as waves of pleasure hit you. You tug at Adam’s hair in the spot between his horns. With one hand, Adam firmly holds your hip, while the other has its fingers entangled in your hair, lightly pulling them.

“A-Adam…please I’m so close” you stutter. You would never beg usually, but this time it’s hard not to do so.

What surprises you is the way Adam responds. He would have usually bragged about you begging for him to make you reach your climax, reminding you how much of a whore you are for him. And you would have protested by flipping the roles and making him a mess under your body. But Adam just sinks his face in your neck, whispering.

“I know baby, I know. I got you” he says, interrupted by a moan “Fuck you’re doing so good I swear”.

His movements in you become more erratic, sloppier, and his breath hotter against your ear. The fingers plunged in your hair start stroking your scalp, you try to suffocate your moans of pleasure in his shoulder. You come first around his shaft, whispering quietly his name until you come down from your high. Adam climaxes second, emitting a low, strangled moan in your neck as his wings twitch. You take some time to realize how good it was, your chests rising and lowering with every breath, holding each other. It’s when your mind clears that you realize how atypical of a sexual encounter that was for you and Adam. It was…sweet? Really intimate and not in the physical meaning of the word? Adam never praised you in bed, and you never spoke to him so gently asking to make you finish. And the way he looked at you was absurd, to say at best. With a cherry colored hue on his cheeks, and a light in his eyes you rarely saw in him.

“Ah shit that was great” Adam chuckles, collapsing next to you.

The pride in his face says it all, maybe you were wrong before. You mentally shrug.

“Yeah” you roll on your side, facing him “but I’m so hungry right now”.

Adam sighs, looking up at the ceiling “When I was in Heaven, there was this place that delivered the best fucking ice cream your taste buds could ever graze. A mountain of it. Great for after sex I swear. I miss it”.

Adam takes the opportunity to talk about Heaven more. He’s clearly being nostalgic. He misses it. And while you like hearing him waffling about all the crazy concert he performed, the best restaurants, theme parks and clubs in Heaven, you can’t help but frown. A small smile still lingers on your face, but you ask yourself if Adam really belongs in here. A part of you says of course yes, the other is unsure.

“You know” you say, scooting closer to him “I’ve never really asked myself about how life in Heaven would be. But it really sounds like a beautiful place”.

Adam nods, twisting on his side to face you “Oh fuck yeah it was, I wish I could…”

He interrupts himself as he meets your face, pressed against the pillow. A small, comprehensive smile is gently placed on it, and your eyes are stuck in his own with a visible shine.

Oh no don’t look at me like that.

Adam’s grin disappears, he looks away and tries to play it cool as always, glancing around the room. He clears his throat.

“Yeah I mean, Heaven was great but under a certain perspective…” he trails off.

You wait for him to finish, and he can’t escape your eyes. He finally reciprocates again, getting lost into them.

“Hell is not half-bad, for some reasons” he says.

Adam doesn’t realize it, but now he’s smiling too. His eyebrows are arched upwards in adoration as he ponders on every inch of you. Your now relaxed expression, your glimmering eyes, your naked body covered in white sheets, your head slightly plunged in the pillow. Suddenly, Adam’s smile fades. His eyes go wide, and his heart skips a beat. A wave of realization hits him.

“Holy shit (Y/N) I’m so in love with you”.

Both of you jump in surprise, moving away from each other as the mattress bounces under your bodies. You clench the sheets, and you feel your heart pounding. Where did that come from?!

“What?!” you exclaim.

“WHAT?!” Adam yelps back, incredulous of his own words.

He didn’t mean to say it out loud, he didn’t even mean to say it in his mind actually. You can feel his own panic on your skin, as every inch of your body figuratively catches fire. You don’t know what to say. Adam sits up, covering his face with a hand in embarrassment.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry I ruined everything!” he exclaims, voice panicky.

“Ruined what?”

Oh no. It takes you a second to realize what you said. Adam’s hand files down from his face and looks at you. And you see something you thought you would never witness on Adam’s face. Pain. Adam is hurt. His mouth is slightly open, his breath suspended, his eyebrows knitted. You used to call him many names when you two argued. An asshole, a dirtbag, a dickhead, an irresponsible, immature jerk. But Adam never batted an eye. It’s the first time you see an unmistakable, terrible flash of pain in his face. You feel horrible. You sit up, your mouth open and about to say something. It’s hard to gather the right words after saying something so wrong. You extend a hand towards him, but Adam leans back, away from your touch.

“Adam fuck that’s not what I…” you say, voice shaky.

Adam shuffles away from you again, his face full of regret, embarrassment and clearly pain. He shakes his head, proceeding to get out of bed. He starts looking frantically for his clothes, putting them on as quick as he can. No words come out your mouth, your mind too confused and full of things to process. In just a matter of seconds, Adam is already dressed.

“I-I’m sorry, I gotta go” he stutters, looking at you for a split second.

“Adam, wait! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sa-!”

You don’t have time to finish what you have to say. Adam had already opened the window of your room, and in the blink of an eye he flew away. Shit, shit, shit! Why did you even say that? That came out so wrong. But you couldn’t help it, you were so taken aback by his sudden confession. You mentally punch yourself in the face. Physically, you limit yourself to drag a hand down your face and groan loudly in your palm. You try to give yourself some time to think, you don’t want to hurt Adam even more. You spend some minutes with your face smothered in your pillow, suffocating sounds of pure frustration. After you gathered your thoughts together, you finally get up from the bed. You put your clothes back on, and head towards the still open window. With a strong flap of your wings, you sprint upwards. As you thought, Adam is sitting on the Hotel sign. He looks pissed. His lips are tightly pressed together and his eyebrows are knitted at the corners. He notices you but doesn’t look up.

“Adam, c’mon…” you say, as kindly as you can.

You keep floating in front of him, the wind generated by your wings making Adam’s hair slightly flow. He doesn’t look at you, he’s just staring at his own knees. For a solid minute you two don’t say anything. Silence has never been a thing between you and Adam, but you respect his wish. Suddenly, Adam breaks it.

“It’s not like you have to pity me” he mumbles.

“I’m not pitying you”

“Um yeah? I just ran off like a pissy school girl and here you are looking at me like a lost child”

“Adam-“

“You know how much time has passed since I last said those words?”

You don’t say anything. Adam finally looks up at you, his eyes a mess of emotions.

“Centuries” he says, spiteful of himself.

Your eyebrows arch upwards in surprise, your forehead corrugated. Your stomach burns, as you can finally feel every emotion Adam tried to hide under sarcasm for so long.

“Centuries?” you ask.

“Yeah, and I know I’ve been literally fucking around for a lot of time so it’s actually my fault, but I can’t say that I don’t mean it once I say it”

“Adam, my question was genuine”.

His mind stops in his tracks. You look weirdly calm. A bit unsure, of course, this is your first very serious conversation. But you’re still collected and he envies you.

“I really wanted to ask you what did you think you ruined. Because I’ll admit it, and I don’t wanna hurt you even more, but I don’t know what goes on in your head. We have all this sex, but also some care, but we also bicker. It’s confusing. I don’t even know if monogamy is your thing. But you showed me care. Sometimes, you still are a bit of a jerk let’s be honest. But I felt care too”.

Your stomach is twirling around, but you can’t stop your flow of consciousness. You wanna know what Adam means, what the First Man wants from a sinner he swore to hate not so long ago. Adam strokes his hair with a hand. His blush intensifies.

“I myself don’t really know what we are. If you know please fuckin’ tell me. What I know is that I feel something, love if that’s what we wanna call it. I mean, look at you! You sing along to rock songs with me, you know how to fight and look so badass while doing it, and you’re hot as fuck too! But if you don’t feel the sa-“

In a sudden movement, you zip towards Adam and grab him by his robe to push him on your lips. He lets out a muffled sound of surprise, but quickly closes his eyes to reciprocate the kiss. It’s calm, sweet, your lips and tongue are moving in tandem in such a tender yet passionate manner. It’s full of care, whatever it is. When you pull away, you look at each other in slight embarrassment. But you push it back immediately.

“I would have never thought I’d say it to you, but I do love you, Adam. Even if you’re still not perfect at all, you’re still a dickhead let’s admit it, I feel something for you. And I don’t expect you to suddenly become a better person just for the sake of being with me, but right now I’m sure I love you like this”.

You had blurted it all out in a single breath, still close to Adam’s face after your kiss. And finally, he smiles. Not with his usual teasing, shit eating grin. He smiles genuinely.

“I still don’t know if I’ll be a redeemable man, or if I want to become one. But at least with you I feel a bit of a better man”.

You smile back at Adam. He looks like a whole other person compared to how he was when you met. He still is his old self. But you came to love him. You and Adam lean forward, capturing yourselves in another deep, thoughtful kiss. Your wings meet, grazing each other as they close around you two. After a while of getting lost in your affection, you separate and playfully smirk.

“C’mon you whiny baby, why don’t we go downstairs to join everyone for movie night?” you suggest.

Adam groans and rolls his eyes “Us being a thing doesn’t mean that I have to participate in every fuckin’ activity of this Hotel”

“Uhh, yeah it does? I’m still in charge of forcing you to join. Now get your lazy ass off of there and let’s go”

“Okay, finee but can we have sex again after?”

“Of course we can”

“Hell yeah”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #adam #adam x reader #sinner adam #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel adam fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #adam x you #adam fanfiction #enemies to lovers #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin x reader #reader insert #x reader #vivziepop #hazbin hotel x you #adam x y/n

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waterfae · 9 months ago

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Kill My Lord Husband [Part 2]

Summary: Your father has decided to marry you off – and to a Blackwood no less! But you want nothing to do with the famously known Bloody Ben, not when your heart already belongs to another. Your solution? Kill your lord husband.

Pairings: Benjicot “Davos” Blackwood x Reader, Aeron Bracken x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, adult language, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage, house-neutral fem!reader, no use of Y/N, absolute nonsense, no beta

Word Count: 1.9+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

|| General Masterlist || House of the Dragon Masterlist ||

Benjicot continued to quietly observe you, even as Atlanna marched up to pluck you from his arms and steer you towards the rest of the family where you were greeted by Lady Blackwood and Lady Alysanne. Now and then, you would do the same, catching his eyes several more times before quickly looking away after each occurrence, heat rising to your cheeks. A familiar feeling. A cursed feeling. The persistent fluttering within your stomach only further made you feel as though you were burning up from the inside – from sinful hellfire, you decided.

Atlanna caught the flushed look on your features and whispered with a knowing smile, “At least he is pleasing to look upon.”

“It is not a good thing.” You whined in reply, although it was a lie. Who wouldn’t want to have a husband that was delightful to look at and he was indeed a handsome one, but he was not Aeron; you didn’t want him to be pleasing.

His gaze lingered. You could feel the heat of it as you were led towards the castle and ushered into the dining hall for dinner. It lingered still after Atlanna left you to be seated while the servants brought out various dishes to set onto the table. With great effort, you ignored his attentions and withheld your own. It had taken you by surprise, the initial reaction to your betrothed as he held you in his arms. You had felt that jolt only once before; for only one man before. It was jarring. It disgusted you – made you sick with guilt. You pushed the feelings away, just as you pushed the boiled potatoes about your plate. You wanted to hate this man. You needed to hate this man.

“She looks even more like her mother than the last I saw her.” Lady Blackwood’s comment pulled you out from the swarming thoughts of your husband-to-be. You looked up from your plate and smiled politely at the compliment; one you were frequently given.

“Indeed, she does.” Your father said beaming at you as he patted your hand lovingly, “My late wife would have been so proud – so happy to see our families united.”

“You are blessed by the gods.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at Lord Blackwood’s latest remark, unable to control the impulse and catching your actions too late; you hoped no one had noticed. “Fuck the gods.” Was your following thought. You hadn’t believed in the gods since your mother died six years ago; not really – just enough to still have anger towards them. And considering your current predicament, you most certainly believed in them a sufficient amount to be just as – if not more – resentful.

As the evening wore on, bellies grew full and people shifted their seats in favor of conversations. Lord and Lady Blackwood continued to discuss with your father about the upcoming nuptials. Ser Willem and Lady Alysanne bickered over the superiority between his sword and her arrows with Benjicot cutting in as it became more heated to claim his own caliber to be greater than that of his aunt and uncle. Eventually, you found yourself leaving yours to wander over to the balcony, finding no common subject matter to insert yourself.

The clouds above were just as thick as when you arrived, blocking out most of the light from the moon, yet still from where you stood, regardless of the dimly-lit night, you were able to make out the ancient weirwood you had only ever heard stories about; colossal in its size with hundreds of ravens perched against its branches.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Came a voice suddenly from behind. It startled and urged you to search for the speaker. You found Benjicot slowly making his way forward until he was beside you, leaning against the balustrade. “Despite it not having shown a single leaf for nearly a thousand years.” His eyes stayed fixed on the giant, “Poisoned by House Bracken.”

“It certainly is a wonder.” You replied shakily, your heart wrenching at the mention of the Brackens.

“We shall be wed there. Before the old gods.” He said, finally straightening himself to face you, “But you do not seem to believe in the gods.” Benjicot stated it rather than asked.

Your eyebrows raised at his statement. It appeared your reaction earlier at dinner had not gone unnoticed. Had he really still been watching you at that moment? You wondered. His attention span was remarkable, “It’s not that I don’t believe, because I do.” You paused to heave a sigh, “Enough for them to anger me.”

He let out a low laugh, “Do they?” He took a step towards you, “You don’t seem angry.” He scanned your face, searching for what, you weren’t sure, but the look on his was one that hinted at nostalgia, “Annoyed, perhaps, but angry? No.” He shook his head with feigned disappointment, then suddenly smirked, “I’ve seen you angry.”

You sent him a questioning glance.

Before you could voice the query, he explained, “Years ago, I participated in a tourney held by Lord Tully for his nameday. You and your father were there. It was the first time I heard mother and father bring up a marriage between our houses, but your mother had just passed and your father too distraught. Out of friendship and respect, they didn’t pursue the issue further.”

You were taken aback, shocked that as early as then there had already been plans to attempt a match between the two of you; there was never any mention of it before.

“Such a pretty thing, even then.” He added softly, your mouth went dry and gulped as he took another step forward, towering over you, “Prettier all the more when you knocked that Bracken off his feet.” He flashed an amused smile, “Such rage.”

Your jaw fell open as Benjicot continued to speak of it, the memory of that particular time rushing back to the forefront of your mind and it clicked; you knew the exact event he was referring too. That had been the day you first met Aeron – right after you lunged at one of his cousins and struck him over the head with his own helm; retaliation for a remark made about you being half an orphan. Aeron had been the one to pull you off of him and restrain you.

You scrunched up your eyebrows and slowly asked, unsure if you were understanding correctly, “I somehow gained your favor because I was...pretty...and angry?”

He chuckled, “Not so much your anger, but your spirit.” His stormy eyes found yours again and you couldn’t look away, “There was a fire in your eyes and it told me that if my parents wishes were to be fulfilled then you would make an exceptional addition to our house; you were meant to be a Blackwood.”

“You wanted this union?” You breathed as realization hit you.

“I wasn’t against it.”

You suddenly became very aware of how close Benjicot was. Too close. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face and it caused your heart to beat rapidly. You quickly tore your gaze away from his and took a step back, chest heaving, your lungs screaming for air. How long had you been holding your breath?

“I am sorry to inform you, but I am not that girl. Not anymore.” You said in a rush and hoped your words would make him think twice of his opinion of you, “I was young. Still growing, still learning. I’ve matured since then and have become a proper lady.” Distance, you thought as you took another step back, you needed more distance. “I was also grieving for my mother. Not in the right mind. That girl wasn’t – isn’t me. I no longer participate in such uncouth behavior.”

‘I was also not yet in love with Aeron.’ You kept that declaration silently to yourself.

Benjicot tilted his head, studying you for several moments before finally heaving a sigh, “That’s rather unfortunate. For such a flame to burn out.” You noticed him bite his lip before going further, “Mayhaps, overtime, we can reignite it.”

There was something in the way he said it that made your stomach lurch and your head dizzy; you had not even taken another step, yet it still made you stumble. He made a move to try and catch you, but you were able to steady yourself with a nearby pillar, one arm outstretched signaling him to stop and keep the space between you.

“I should retire to my chambers!” You blurted out in a panic.

He blinked at your sudden outburst, “Are you alright, my lady? Have I done something to offend you?”

“I am tired.” You replied while steadying yourself and straightening your skirts, “It has been a very long day.”

“Shall I escort you –”

You cut him off, frantically waving him off with your hands, “No. It’s fine.” You turned on your heel, ready to get as far away from him as possible, “I am capable of finding my own way.”

You weren’t. As soon as you left him on that balcony and bid your father and the Blackwoods good night, you immediately turned the wrong corner exiting the dining hall and had gotten lost. You mentally kicked yourself while you walked around aimlessly for gods know how long, regretful of turning down Benjicot’s offer to escort you to your chambers. You buried your face in your hands at the thought and stomped your foot like a petulant child. As helpful as it might have been to have him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to withstand another minute. The emotional turbulence, the way your body reacted to his proximity, the things he said and did...it wasn’t love by any means, but it was overwhelming all the same.

“What in the seven hells is wrong with me?!” You asked aloud to no one in particular. In your turmoil, you almost didn’t noticed the brisk footsteps echoing down the hall.

“My lady!” You looked up to find Atlanna scurrying towards you, “There you are!”

Relief washed over you, glad to have been found and not left to wander the halls all night. She stopped in front of you, pausing to catch her breath; she must have been running and searching for you for a long while to be in such a state. You questioned it.

“I was waiting for you in your chambers – unpacking more of your belongings and to help you get ready for bed – when this arrived.” Atlanna held up a piece of parchment, “When you still hadn’t come, I went looking for you. It seemed important.” She scanned the corridor, making sure the two of you were truly alone before whispering, “I think it’s from him.”

For a moment, it felt as though your heart had stopped. You eyed the little scroll in both excitement and fear of what its message may contain. With much hesitation, you accepted and unrolled it. You immediately recognized the handwriting scrawled upon it and a rush of different emotions came to hit you all at once. There was not much to it – the message was very short with simple instructions. You read over his words repeatedly, until you were overcome. You burst into tears without any sort of warning and began to sob violently, shocking Atlanna in the process.

“It’s from Aeron.” You stated the obvious as the tears you held onto for so long finally streamed down your face. Atlanna caught you just as your knees gave way. Unable to carry your weight, she instead guided you to the stone floor. She held tightly onto your trembling form, rocked you from side to side while rubbing your back to soothe you, your cries muffled as you buried your face into her bosom and Aeron’s message crumpled in your tight grip.

a/n: This chapter was getting too long, editing was killing me, and I became too impatient to update. So I broke it up. I made you guys wait too long and simply wanted to serve something. I'm hoping to get the next part out very soon, since it's technically already written. I'm just polishing it up at this point. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

I accidentally made myself cry. Woopsies! Aeron will actually show up next chapter. Shenanigans will be had.

taglist: @pantheonofbeauty @cregansfourthwife @spicyteaandcrumpets @accidentpronedork @cococrazy18

@witch-moon-babe @a-romantic-twst @flusteredmoonn @nixtape-foryou @flowerprincezz

@trouble-sistar @username199945 @claire-loves-music @lady-dragon-rider @spider-stark

@moonnicole @hardkiddonut

#hotd #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #aeron bracken x reader #aeron bracken #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #🧚🏻‍♀️࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟfaefic

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teddybarebones · 2 months ago

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I like shipping Obi-wan with basically any adult (especially male) character ever...so here is a non-exhausted list of characters I ship him with and why. (inspired by @grumpy-tooka 's post)

Quinlan Vos: They are friends with benefits, they started fooling around in their teens, and meet up whenever they are both between missions to hang out (and maybe fuck, if both their padawans are out). They are extremely loyal to each other, Quinlan lets Obi-wan help when he's drifting to the dark side, and Obi-wan trusts him to get help when he needs it.

Cody: They share something on the emotional level, two people who are always in charge of the situation, and struggle to rely on others for their personal issues. They would both put their own loyalties above their relationship with each other, and that works for them. They both hold the hope that when the war is over, they will discuss their unspoken (but known) feelings for each other.

Satine Kryze: A shared kiss here and there, oung love, two people who's loyalties to their own people would make them incompatible in the long run. They enjoy bickering, but can't last longer than a few weeks before they'd get tired of each other. There is still affection between them, but they both know that they wouldn't have worked.

Dexter Jetsetter: They fucked like once ten years ago, when they were both in a tight situation. I imagine that they happened to both be hiding from someone, and had to rely on one another to escape. The adrenaline and tension led to a quickie or something, and they became great friends. Nowadays all they do is flirt, but they are always happy to help each other out.

Jango Fett: Their tension on Kamino was CRAZY. I think there was some serious attraction between them, but neither would feel comfortable enough to actually fuck about it. They would both struggle with feeling comfortable around someone who is tied to the murder of a number of their people (some more than others).

Bail Organa: Bail and Breha have a loving and open relationship. Bail's interest in Obi-wan has lasted since they first met, and he has no shame in reminding Obi-wan that he and Breha would be delighted to share some time together (both in the bed, and out of it). They hold extreme amounts of respect for each other for their loyalty to their people and their dedication to do what is right.

Cad Bane: I think they had tension during the Rako Hardeen arc, that tense alliance between bounty hunters with trust issues is the perfect space for sexual tension. While I don't think they fucked, they definitely COULD have, and they know it.

Darth Maul: Maul's obsession with Obi-wan bleeds into all aspects of his life, including sexually. Neither of them would truly act on it. Obi-wan can see that Maul is attractive, but he is not interested in him sexually (too traumatized by his actions to think of him like that).

Asajj Ventress: Just flirting between them, their interest in each other is actually 95% platonic, they're just really weird about it. There is a decent amount of respect between them, as well as annoyance, resentment, and yearning for connection.

Kit Fisto: Sparring buddies, rare friends with benefits, very casual about it.

Alpha-17: Their time on Zygerria built a LOT of trust between them, they fucked once, and their interest in each other is now purely professional.

Cerasi + Nield: The three of them were codependant as fuck, it was more platonic than anything else, but they cuddled at night and were extremely loyal to one another.

Rex: They could bond over the headache that is Anakin, and later, over the betrayal that led to the enslavement and annihilation of their people. There is a connection there, that they would likely never act on, they are both instead consumed by guilt together.

Fox: They both hate politicians and dealing with the senate, they'd both love to be able to kill Palpatine, maybe they'd fuck about it?

Bruck Chun: The bullying could have been caused by both jealousy, AND a romantic interest. Obviously nothing ever happened about it, but Bruck had a little crush, and Obi-wan only realized later as an adult.

Hondo Ohnaka: They COULD fuck, but they mostly flirt for the fun of it, it makes everyone around them uncomfortable (and they think it's funny)

There are many MANY more ...but these are the ones I can think of off the top of my head...

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dimalry · 3 months ago

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My SJM- based opinions that nobody asked for, but I‘m sharing anyway.

I made a lot of critical points that may trigger some people…

- Manorian sucks. They had potential until they became canon, and SJM turned Dorian into another shadow daddy. Dorian dominating Manon is a joke—it's just ridiculous. Also, Dorian should be shorter than Manon.

- Dorian and Sorscha are cute together. RIP, though...

- Chaol is one of the best male characters in the SJM universe.

- Chaolryne is the healthiest and one of the best ships in all of her book series.

- Sam’s death WRECKED me.

- Kaltain deserved better.

- I think I like Rowan with long hair better.

- The Assassin’s Blade and ToD are severely underrated. KoA wasn’t that great.

- I hate the spy theory with a burning passion for both Elain and Gwyn, especially Elain. Maybe it’s because I have other plans for them, but I just don’t see either of them as spies. Let’s be honest here—the only reason most people support the spy theory is because of Azriel, not because they genuinely think Elain and Gwyn are suited for the job.

- Azriel is far from being the best spymaster. I’d say he’s very bad at his job, and Rhys makes it worse. 😭🙏

- The High Lady title is overrated. The position of a ruler isn’t some internship that any 14-year-old can apply for. → Nesta or Elain as High Lady of Dusk? Elain as High Lady of Day or Spring? Gwyn as High Lady of Summer? Emerie as High Lady of Dawn? The only female characters I want to see rule are Viviane and Cresseida. Headcanons are cool and fun, but some of y’all treat them like facts.

- I’m not a big fan of High Lady Feyre anymore. I see her as more of a neutral party than a ruler of a specific court—or better said, a city.

- I love the Inner Circle, but I’d hate to be their friend, and I don’t think they’d enjoy being my friends either. I’d rather hang out with the Valkyries and Elain.

- I love the Valkyries, but I’m just annoyed that Nesta was given a sword and armor like most of SJM’s female characters. I fear that Elain might be the next target and I hate it.

- Nesta made the right decision in choosing her safety and comfort (sitting on that rock instead of training) over Cassian’s already-bad reputation. It wasn’t one of her prideful moments like people think so.

- Amren should’ve stayed dead. She contributes nothing to the story after ACOWAR. All she does is b*tch, whine, and moan.

- Vamren doesn’t really make sense. Amren doesn’t strike me as straight or as someone who would even pursues a relationship. It seems like Varian was just thrown at her.

- Justice for Jurian!

- Rhys does NOT need to be superior in every way. It’s okay for him to lack power in certain areas and actually be flawed. I came to that conclusion when I worked on Rhys’s character for my storytelling—it makes him a more compelling character. Tamlin also doesn’t need to suck in every way possible.

- I’m fairly confident that Gwynriel and Elucien are endgame, but I don’t care enough to try to convince people of it, nor will I be upset if they’re not endgame. SJM builds up great potential and then wastes it, so I’m not sure if an announced endgame is a good thing. You either write a good story or don’t bother at all. I won’t accept mediocrity anymore.

- Case in point: ACOSF Nessian sucked. Their love story consists of repeated sex and unnecessary arguments—bleh. Potential wasted.

- I feel nothing for Sarion or Elriel (though there’s one thing I don’t like about them, which is thankfully still just a headcanon), Emorie… and probably more ships that I can’t think of rn. I don’t like nor dislike them—they’re just there.

- I love Helion x LoA’s tragic love story, but I don’t want them together. At least, not so soon after Beron’s death. His existence isn’t the only obstacle between them. There are a lot of unresolved feelings, resentment, and trauma built up over the years. It’s really not that easy.

- Neither SJM nor the fans are aware of how long 500+ years truly is.

- Sarah’s right—Ruhn and Lidia’s wedding was corny and unnecessary.

- I loved Ruhnlidia in HOSAB. They were kind of boring in HOFAS. Then I realized that I just love DayNight more than Ruhnlidia.

- The only girl I like to see Tharion with is Hypaxia. I think their banter is cute. I know she’s a lesbian, but based on how boring SJM writes her queer ships, Hypaxia x Celestina was only bound to be unremarkable.

- Tharion was intriguing until he got his own POV. I really don’t want to feel the same about Azriel when his book comes out.

- Hunt deserves better, but he needs to give up that foot fetish.

- The only interesting bonus chapter that came with HOSAF was the Ember x Randall chapter. To be honest, a lot of bonus chapters SJM writes are so unnecessary and boring.

- The crossover should’ve never happened. It feels like a corny Marvel dream SJM had. The only good thing that came out of it was Ember being a mother hen to Nesta.

- I really don’t care about Bryce’s friendship with Nesta and Azriel.

- I’m not a fan of the headcanon that Bryce and the Valkyries would be friends, even though it makes sense.

- Bryciel gives me the ick. I saw a post that mentioned how it would be a one-night stand followed by no contact afterward, and I couldn’t agree more. I feel like they’d get annoyed with each other pretty fast. I’m sorry to anyone who ships it, but their personalities don’t mesh well...

- The torture Ruhn, Hunt, and Baxian suffered under those weirdo angels wasn’t even that bad. I shouldn’t have had high expectations.

- Baxian is a good boy, but I don’t like his mate.

- Cormac is cool. Rip.

- HOFAS was bad. I enjoyed it at first, especially the whole deal with the Viper Queen, but I got bored over time, and I couldn’t keep up with the plots anymore. HOEAB is the best book in the series. HOSAB was fine.

- All villains (except Maeve and Arobynn) are so cartoonish and corny.

I have more opinions, but that’s enough for today. I just wanted to share some of my thoughts on these books (and some theories/headcanons), and I’d love to hear your opinions!

I’ve also made the decision that I won’t read another SJM book ever again after ACOTAR ends. Until then, I’ll support my local library or download the upcoming ACOTAR books in PDF instead of giving her my money. That’s how you actually separate the art from the artist, rather than just saying it. 🥰

#i was bored #throne of glass #acotar #crescent city #sjm critical #opinions

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yey56 · 1 month ago

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I can imagine Leith Pierre's reaction (crashout) if he ever meets Harley and the reader's child in the married AU. Especially if the child looks like Harley

Jajajjaja, oh this is gooood. Literally mental breakdown.

This is like an indie videogame, is going to have routes and finals.

AU WHAT IF: What if Leith met Y/Ns kid with Sawyer?

Just as with the marriage, the reaction wouldn't be good, like at all.

You didn't made your pregnancy public or known at first, you knew that your colleagues and even Eliot would send you home to rest so you just let your coworkers know once you started showing.

At first it was a joke from Stella after eating lunch, light banter you both shared but eventually, seeing you weren't really following the joke you told her.

Later on the day, Stella congratulated Sawyer as well. You husband was in a meeting at that moment with Eddie and Leith.

Leith had his usual arrogant expression, confidently explaining the new security system of the labs but his smile banished just when he heard about the baby.

He didn't respond, he stayed still. Every voice became blurry to him and he looked at Sawyer.

With his voice barely above a whisper, he congratulated Harley and went to the bathroom.

He looked himself at the mirror and splashed water onto his face 'this is a joke' he thought, you couldn't possibly.... Not with Harley's child.

He tried to convince himself anyway he could but ultimately he had to accept reality. You were having a kid and the father was the men he hated the most at work.

During this month's, your friendship with Pierre had completely shattered, it was already very strained thanks to his reaction to your wedding but now you barely talked.

He didn't have the stomach to face you, he barely talked to you. You could catch him glancing at your belly every now and then with a sad look and his hand twitching. As if he wanted to touch it but couldn't bring himself to so it.

You on the other hand were uncomfortable with Leiths behaviour. He was a funny friend, entertaining and spontaneous. He matched your personality and that how you started being friends but now...

He became passive aggressive when you stated dating Sawyer and borderline aggressive with you and your husband when you got married and now this.

You've already put distance before and maybe it was time to do it now as well.

Once the pregnancy ended and the kid was born, you started accepting visitors, even though Harley suggested you should rest a few more days.

First came the family and friends and later some close coworkers. What neither of you expected was Leith showing up one afternoon.

Harley opened the door, making bigger both his frown and Pierres. He could notice that the man hadn't slept in a while. Purple circles adorning his arrogant but sharp eyes.

"I believe I've already told you to stay away" Sawyer was calm, as always, delaying with the situations with his characteristic clinical coldness.

"I just came to say hello, I have a gift for your kid" The last part was said with the faintest resentment. Pierre showed a small kissy missy toy.

Sawyer took a look at him and let him in. "They are asleep right now" He said refering to you "You can look at the kid but Y/N still doesn't want others to hold it yet" He guided Leith to a small crib on the living room.

The kid had a lot of Sawyer's characteristics such as his skin and his eyes, but the expression it had... The open and curious eyes were just as yours. The baby's mannerisms mimicked you.

Without another word he rested the toy on the crib, took one last look at the baby and finally went home.

Once home, the head of innovation started drinking from his own personal reserve of licors.

That kid would be a constant reminder of you, of Sawyer... Thankfully he didn't have to interact with it daily, he would've turned crazy.

At the end of the day, it was him, his job and his bottle...

If he eventually turns Harley into an experiment:

He couldn't bare it how could someone as Sawyer get to be with you being the surgeon as cold and calculating as possible.?

That why he turned him into an experiment, he would be more useful as a resource than as a person, or so he thought.

Now, finding yourself with your husband apparently gone by an accident and with a young kid. You started taking more flexible shifts so you could both work and take care of your child.

You had good savings but you still liked what you did as a psychologist so...

Leith, of course, would take advantage of this unfortunate situation and try to offer help by delivering you take out.

At first you rejected it, Stella and your family were already delivering you food some days you could t cook but eventually, he started doing it and you were so exhausted you couldn't even deny it.

He had tried to rebuild your friendship first. He offered to take care of your kid for a few hours so you could do other things but you still didn't trust him so much.

On the side, you investigated what happened to Harley. If you discovered it, you would take your child to a trusted family member and confront Leith. That would lead to most yandere version o Pierre, in which he would threaten you to turn your child into a toy just as many others, promising to take care of you both. There you knew he was clinically insane.

Or he could try to deny it, gaslight and lie. That wouldn't work on you and this result would make you rage so much, it would to the hour of joy (caused by you again) but this time, you got out of the factory instead of Leith and took care of your child trying to forget the incident.

Maybe 15 years later you would send and anonymous letter to an ex employee to try and investigate what happened with you husband (a.k.a: the doctor). Who knows, maybe Leith is still alive.

-Unedited fic-

I will try to draw about this au a little bit more as well as the one of the main story. Good night people.

#x reader #poppy playtime #harley sawyer #harley sawyer x reader #poppy playtime chapter 4 #dr harley sawyer #leith pierre x reader #leith pierre #obssesive #yandere #dr harley x reader #harley sawyer poppy playtime #dr sawyer #the doctor x reader #the doctor

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honeycreammilkshake · 9 months ago

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as both a sukuita and sukuna fan, chapter 268 killed me. at first i thought it was because we finally got another really intimate and highly emotional scene between sukuna and yuuji, and that sukuna chose to die over accepting yuuji's kindness, but now i can't stop thinking about how this entire chapter was such a good character study and a metaphor for one of the most important themes in the story.

in chapter 21, there's a really interesting conversation between junpei and mahito, where junpei disagrees with the quote "the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference." he knows how evil people can be so he chooses to feel indifferent about human suffering instead. mahito's view on this is also really intriguing, especially considering how he is a curse born from the hate people share for each other.

i could be wrong but it sounds like the basic message here is that deadening yourself to such intense feelings — love or hate — is a type of retaliation for being hurt or consumed by them. which makes me wonder if sukuna had a similar story to junpei, and if that explains how he became what he is.

we know that sukuna wasn't wanted as a child. he was more than likely rejected by both normal society and the jujutsu world. like junpei he was probably treated cruelly or strongly made aware of the many people who hated him. sukuna claimed to know what love is, but i think what he actually understood was the absence of love. he understood maybe what it means to others, but he had never felt or experienced it himself.

which brings me back to junpei's idea that indifference should be the solution. this is kind of the same philosophy sukuna has: he believes in this unshakable hierarchy of strength where the weak should have no right to lament their suffering. his idea was that the strongest were indifferent to suffering, that it's greedy to be lonely because of this. he calls it his "nature" to live in this self-indulgent way that is completely uncaring and selfish.

but then there's yuuji.

yuuji has been alone for a lot of his life. at the beginning, he doesn't have any really close friends, since even the other occult club members don't know him all that well. his only family was wasuke, who was difficult and pushed people away, including yuuji.

after his grandfather's death, he wanted to do right and fulfill wasuke's request of helping people, to be able to die surrounded by those he cares about. he pretty much gave his life to help other people by accepting responsibility as sukuna's vessel, and shows concern and kindness even to strangers.

he seems the exact opposite of sukuna and he stands for all the things that the king of curses hates... so why is it that someone sukuna considers so weak has so much power over him?

the only one who's really managed to make sukuna rethink his ideas of the world has been yuuji. even sukuna acknowledged that he was affected more by yuuji than anyone else.

to him, those who challenged him 1000 years ago were "other people." his relationship with yuuji was and always has been so special that even he admits it.

sukuna mostly strived for indifference his entire life. consuming so many humans was merely a way for him to pass the time until death, as he said, and those tastes were passing and unmemorable for the most part. everything was so unfeeling about the way he made his philosophy sound during his conversation with kashimo, and he couldn't answer as to why he would decide to cross the ages into modern life if his life before had been truly satisfactory. it's like he wasn't even moved to support his own ideals.

but here yuuji is... an annoying brat he called weak and boring, yet every time they fought sukuna looked thrilled and even impressed, though he resented it. and every time yuuji challenged him, sukuna was bothered enough to challenge him right back.

"the opposite of love is indifference." if this is true, sukuna was most likely forced into his indifference due to the fact he was never wanted or loved. but yuuji awakened so many feelings inside of him, too many. living as sukuna's vessel, they shared such a close connection while still opposing each other in every single way. yuuji represented the intense feelings of both love and hate in the way he fought so hard for others while sukuna's own indifference started to break the longer he spent inside of yuuji. he was far more reactive to yuuji than with others, and had even given him special treatment. there were many times he could have killed yuuji or his friends, but he didn't.

yuuji has made it clear that he hates sukuna's indifference to the value of people's lives.

sukuna's indifference towards life is against everything yuuji believes in but strangely enough, yuuji was still willing to accept sukuna. to not only pity him, but to have genuine empathy and compassion for such a monster as well.

he even says to sukuna that they are the same, despite seeming to be complete opposites of each other.

to me, yuuji saying that the monster sukuna became was a matter of chance, shows that he understands how indifference cut sukuna off from having a different fate.

there is a vast area of shades between love and hate, unlike the overwhelmingly static state of indifference. yuuji was showing those shades of love and hate to sukuna, telling him that they could live in the mixed shades of both.

and i really wished sukuna chose to coexist with both that love and hate and remain with yuuji. but he was too used to being indifferent and rejected that offer.

i'm really hoping we get to see yuuji's thoughts on this in the next few chapters, because he looked truly disappointed by sukuna's rejection.

#im still so mad about what happened to junpei ;-;#this is really incoherent and has many errors probably #but i wanted to get my basic thoughts across #honey posts #sukuita #sukuna ryomen #itadori yuuji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #meta

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moonlightxaridw · 3 months ago

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Yves Saint Laurent | Valeria Garza

• PAIRINGS; Valeria Garza x Fem!Reader

• WARININGS; Mention of drugs, violence

• SUMMARY; After breaking up with Valeria, you decided to join the rival cartel as a means of revenge, you didn't think about the consequences.

• AUTHOR'S NOTE; I hate going back to my alucin era 😟

You met Valeria in the business, Diego had seen you buying cocaine before for the gang you used to be in, he saw you as a perfect target to use as bait.

After talking to Valeria they accepted you; As in any cartel there was a hierarchy, and well... You were at the bottom, one of those people who didn't last more than a month before the military or drug traffickers killed them.

At first you hardly spoke to Valeria, El Sin Nombre's hitman wasn't much of a talker and it seemed like she simply ignored you. Then you started talking more and Valeria showed a lot more interest in you, one thing led to another and you started dating.

You were no longer just Valeria's worker, you were a person she loved and would do anything to keep you safe. But everything that begins must end.

Valeria's job was very demanding, and she had little time for her personal life although Valeria did what she could to spend time with you. It was not enough . The fights about why Valeria wasn't giving you enough attention and why she was taking too many risks became more and more frequent.

You sounded selfish and you really knew it, but you were afraid, afraid of losing her, afraid that one day she would leave home and never come back and that fear tormented you.

Valeria was no longer happy. "For my mental health and yours, I think we need to break up" that broke your heart into a thousand pieces, You tried to tell her that you would be a better girlfriend for her and that she would tell you what made her feel uncomfortable to change it but Valeria refused.

She didn't cry, she just hugged you and watched as you closed the door behind you. Maybe what hurt you the most was that it seemed like she didn't feel any pain at all from what she had just done.

And that made you feel sick, it made you feel upset and soon you felt a horrible resentment towards her. You hated her.

But... How could you get your revenge? The Mexican Special Forces were not an option. How about joining a rival cartel? Las Almas Cartel had plenty of rivals anyway. It was just a matter of looking for one who was interested, after all, you knew too much about El Sin Nombre.

You ended up in the hands of the CJNG, they had a fairly large territory in which they operated and it would be useful for them to have people specifically in Las Almas.

You started working with them, it was simple, they gave you the merchandise and you transported it from one place to another. Nothing could go wrong, right?

"A ver gringa, these are the two packages you have to take from here to the border. I don't want anything to happen to them, understand? No quieres tener pedos con nosotros." The man said with a thick accent as he handed you the two lined packages.

You took them and put them in your backpack nodding. It wouldn't be that difficult, it was just a matter of carrying the packages from one place to another, returning and getting paid.

So you left the factory which was on the outskirts of the city, it was high noon, if you hurried, you would get there at least when the sun was just setting.

You walked for about 4 hours because your bosses kept insisting that going in any vehicle would look suspicious, as if walking in the middle of nowhere wasn't suspicious. You were at least 2 kilometers from reaching the border when you saw some men and women wearing bulletproof vests and green camouflage. Military.

You cursed yourself under your breath as you watched the way you slipped past unnoticed, your bad luck becoming evident when one of the military turned to look at you. You swallow, not even a second passed before the man alerted his companions.

"Fuck"

You quickly turned around before running back, the military started following you, trying to shoot at your feet or just at you. You could hear the high-pitched whine of bullets at full speed close to your ear.

Luckily for you, it wasn't all arid land, there was a place nearby like a small jungle with uneven ground, small lakes, plants and lots of dirt. You ran towards it, listening to the footsteps behind you.

You threw yourself into a small ravine that led to a river, landing on your open backpack. You crouched down, listening to the men practically above you, praying for them to get out. After a while, this is how it was .

You let out a breath you didn't even know you'd been holding as you grabbed your backpack, the blood draining from your face as you realized.

When you fell, the bags broke releasing white powder, and the backpack being open had released all the powder into the mud and water. "No, no, no, no, no" You almost felt the tears well up in your eyes as you tried to retrieve the merchandise in vain.

Valeria would have forgiven you anything, after all at that time you had been her girlfriend. You had. And these guys weren't that nice. What the fuck would you say to them? They'd probably blow your head before you could even explain.

You closed your backpack, running your hands over your face in frustration, You couldn't do anything but go to your boss and tell him what had happened.

* * *

You entered the place being escorted by two armed men to where your boss was, the man with the hat was pointing a gun at a boy who was on his knees with his hands tied.

"Por favor, le juro que no volveré a fallar, deme una última oportunidad" The young man cried while the man looked at him with a neutral expression. He put the gun in his belt.

"Ya mata a este cabrón, tengo una junta importante y no quiero mancharme las manos" The boss said pointing at the young man, the boy began to cry louder screaming, or rather begging not to be killed.

The other man pulled out his gun and without thinking shot him in the head. The man's body fell at your feet as blood poured out of the hole in his head, a horrified expression paused on his face.

You shuddered at the sight of the man lying there, blood staining the ground in a crimson color, you looked away trying to convince yourself that this would not happen to you.

The man looked at you. "What about you? Did you deliver the packages?" You felt a cold sweat run down your neck, a shaky sigh left your lips before speaking.

"I... Uhhh" the man looked at you impatiently his foot tapping repeatedly on the ground. You took your backpack off your shoulders and handed it to him, leaving it on the floor. Joaquin (that was your boss's name) looked at the backpack with a raised eyebrow before telling two of his men to open it.

When they opened it, he saw what had happened "Hija de la chingada"

The man gave a dry, laugh as he looked at the contents of the bags, or what was left of them. "¿Sabes cuánto puto dinero había ahí?" He asked angrily, you didn't know Spanish but from his anger you knew what he meant. "ANSWER ME, CARAJO"

You didn't answer, you were very scared, at any moment he could pull out his gun and everything would be over in a second.

"I could kill you, I could kill you and torture you until you can't feel, pero eso sería demasiado rápido..." you couldn't even look him in the eyes. "I'm not going to kill you, I'm going to make you pay for every fucking peso you lost on that delivery, understand?" You nodded quickly almost crying because it didn't end your life.

"Vas a ir a la guerra narco"

* * *

He sent you to Culiacán in the middle of the war, what he wanted was for you to take care of anyone who was there, any rival from another cartel, including Las Almas.

Everything had gone well, you had eliminated several people trying not to think about it.You ran to an abandoned factory far from the city where a guy who was escaping from you, had hidden himself.

There were a few convoys outside with military print and mounted machine guns, everything was dark. You looked around, gripping your AK-103 tightly. The place was completely empty. Or so you thought.

You entered the place with your gun raised, there was no one. You looked around, it was dark and abandoned, you let your guard down, and that was your worst mistake.

5 men appeared behind you pointing guns at you, when you turned around it was too late. You fell to the ground feeling a sharp pain in your calf. You looked down to see blood pouring from the wound. You had been shot.

They tied your hands and a bag over your face while they forcibly lifted you up. The pain was unbearable.You've never been shot before.

Suddenly you were released very quickly, causing you to fall hard to the ground, hitting your head. You heard gunshots before losing consciousness.

You woke up feeling a strong pain in your head and in your leg, you were lying on some leather seats of an armored convoy. You looked around before closing your eyes again for a moment. "You hit it hard, you had a concussion" you heard a very familiar female voice.

You looked at your leg which was bandaged carelessly. You looked towards the passenger seat where the voice came from. Valeria...

You tried to get up but that made you dizzy. "What are you doing here?" You asked. Valeria let out a bitter laugh "What are you doing here?"

"I never thought you'd go with the idiots of Cártel de Jalisco Nueva Generación" She said sarcastically. You looked down. "They were going to kill you, did you know that?" She said this time more seriously.

"Listen Valeria, I'm sorry about everything that happened between us—" You started to say but Valeria interrupted you. "You know? I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you." You remained silent at that statement.

You arrived at Las Almas, together with Valeria and Diego who was driving. You had fallen asleep the whole way. Valeria and Diego got off the convoy and then Valeria opened the door on your side.

He helped you up, the pain in your calf was still present, you missed Valeria. Too much.

He led you to one of his guest rooms and helped you sit on the bed. "I'm really sorry about everything that happened..." Valeria looked at you for a moment before speaking.

"Don't worry, rest" she said. She was about to leave the room when you got out of bed as best you could, and ran to hug her. Valeria froze as she felt your body against hers.

You could smell her YSL perfume, the one she always used, you had missed hugging her so much. Valeria slowly turned to look at you. "I love you" you murmured without letting go of her, hiding your face in the hollow of her neck.

After a few minutes of silence she hugged you back, making you look directly at her by lifting your face with two of her fingers before kissing you softly. You missed this. Maybe you didn't deserve her, but that didn't matter now.

"I love you too"

I hope the ending isn't that bad, I'm out of ideas 💔

#Spotify #cod #cod mw2 #valeria #valeria garza #angst #lgbtq #valeria garza angst #valeria garza x reader #valeria cod x reader #valeria garza x fem reader #fluff #lesbian

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