#and i assumed anyone would be able to shake their eyes if i explained how and people wouldn't have funny reactions anymore
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REPLACEMENT
The poison of Akaza’s obsession penetrates you.
Yandere Akaza X Reader
Warnings: Obsessive/Yandere themes, Dark themes, Abuse, Stockholm syndrome
Summary: A failed mission to put an end to Akaza, one of the twelve Kizuki almost killed you. Instead of being rescued by your fellow hashiras, Akaza took you for his own. You slowly realize that you're merely a replacement.
You awaken to the soft, uneasy breaths taken by the unknown presence beside you, causing you to jolt up. This was a mistake. You completely forgot about your unsuccessful battle that occurred not long ago; the pain you felt was enough for you to reconsider your position as a former demon slayer.
"Please lie down; I can't have you getting too hurt love".
“Love?” You said, turning to face the familiar voice that projected beside you. A cold sense of fear trickled down your body. At once realizing who the familiar voice belonged to, the demon in which you failed to get rid of. Akaza stroked your hair lightly, continuing his uneasy yet soft breathing pattern you had taken notice of before.
"Relax; the tension in your body is starting to worry me. I couldn’t help but take you back here after you passed out.” Without thinking, you instinctively moved yourself as far away as possible. "Don’t run from me; it’s no use. I'm sure you know that by now, don’t you?".
“What is it that you want..I don’t have anything to offer” you spoke, voice shaking slightly. Akaza crept up on you, picking your body up from the floor with ease, carrying you bridal style. "I don’t have time to deal with your childish behavior; I’m taking you to get dressed in clothes more fitting for you". Realization hit, and you realized how dangerous your situation really was. Not wanting to dig yourself further into this loop, you complied. As he was carrying you to what seemed to be a bedroom, you took time to look around what you assumed to be his home. It was more of a traditional style, with mainly wood on the inside and dimly lit candles. What caught your eye were picture frames with images of a woman on the inside. She was beautiful, definitely above average. Her expensive-looking pink polka-dot kimono stood out brightly in the photograph. As you study her, you also notice the man beside her; he looked awfully familiar. You quickly glanced at the demon carrying you and took a mental note of their similar appearance. They looked like twins, one just.. human.
You made it to the bedroom. Akaza softly placed you on a king-sized bed in the middle of the room. "Wait here for a moment while I grab your new clothes". Not wanting to find out what he would do to you if you moved, you once again complied. “Look, I don’t understand what this is about but please I just want to go home”.
Akaza came back with what seemed to be a kimono. “I thought I explained this to you already? I couldn’t help myself, I've never seen anyone like you love”. Your eyes widen when you see the details of the kimono—pink with white polka dots. The same one seen in the photographs of the woman.
"I’ll help you put this on, then I’ll work on your hair flower’. He then slowly started removing your clothes, taking deeper breaths as he saw more and more of your bare skin. “I didn’t ask for this, I’m asking nicely please, just let me leave”. You tried as hard as you could to suppress the fear in your voice. You still had slight hope that he would let you go.
"You're so beautiful, I don’t think I can handle it; it’s taking everything in me to respect you and keep myself together seeing you like this". Your body slightly shook at the feeling of his cold, large hands caressing your soft, plush skin; he had a drunk, dazed look when staring down at you. It took all Akaza had to keep his intentions from becoming impure when it came to you. You're the first woman to make him feel anything since his wife Koyuki died; by this point, he’s not sure if his own former wife was able to make him feel such a way.
The way you gaze at him, the way your pretty chest rises when you breathe, your soft touch, your beautiful smile that could put the sun to shame—all of it was too much for him to handle. He just needs you entirely.
“You're being delusional just let me go.” Your meek sentence didn’t seem to affect him in any way. Akaza continued carefully wrapping your body into the different layers of the Kimono, despite your protests.
The moment the two of you met, you did something to his heart. The fight that introduced you two ended shortly, Akaza knew you would be no match. With only a few hits, Akaza was able to knock you out into a short coma and bring you to his home.Throughout your week long deep sleep he took the opportunity to study you, study your body. With your presence, his once incomplete heart shattered by his former wife's death now felt whole again. For now, your only job is to replace his dead wife and stay with him, promising to never leave his side.
Akaza finished dressing you and was now fixing your hair. You had to admit that the way his hands felt in your hair was enough to put you to sleep. He was so gentle with you despite the battle you two fought, however long ago. No matter how much you hate to admit it, his treatment towards you has been nothing but loving. He touched you as if you were fine china, one of a kind, and could break at any moment. In his presence, you got the strange feeling that nothing else could ever lay hands on you, even if attempted. You were uneasy, noticing how he was transforming you into the girl in the picture. Mustering up all your courage, you decide to ask who the woman was. Akaza hummed softly as he delicately pinned up your hair; he was in pure bliss just by being able to lay his hands on you. He hasn’t felt such love for another human since his wife, Koyuki.
“A- Akaza..? You spoke softly.”
"Yes, baby?" he hummed in response.
The little name made you repulse. "Who’s the woman in the pictures around your home?" you said. He paused, resting his hands on your shoulders, massaging them slightly. You scoffed at the action, Akaza acting as if he didn’t kidnap you made your sanity drop even lower. Then he spoke. "Koyuki, a woman I once loved; she’s long gone now, so no need to worry, precious". No matter how he put it, you knew deep down that you were replacing her in a way; the way he dressed you up was enough proof.
"Don’t worry about things like that Y/N soon you'll be replacing those pictures" said Akaza while placing a heavy, wet kiss on your neck. There was nothing you could do but accept his love and affection. You were simply no match, any type of fighting or protest beyond this point would be completely useless. It may even get you in more trouble.
You're already in too deep, and there's no escaping his "love" now. Akaza grabbed your face harshly, contrasting his previous sweet actions. He forced a hungry kiss onto your soft lips that revealed more than his words. “Stop! w-what are you doing” you frantically attempted to escape his harsh grip. Akaza still had a tight grip on your face, causing a stinging sensation in your cheeks.
"Your mine; do you understand that? Trying to leave will have consequences". You had done nothing wrong..? Was playing into his game not enough for him? This delusion of his went on for weeks. You would dress up in Koyuki’s old clothes, and Akaza would pretend that you were his wife and always have been.
Over time, you grew too tired to fight back. After months of Akaza being your only contact with another being, you slowly started to crave his touch, the way he coddled you, his dark but loving gaze, his love in general. You find yourself willing to do anything for a piece of his love; you desire and need it.
“Akaza please! You pleaded, I promise to be a good girl, just don’t make me sleep alone again”.
Earlier that night, you accidentally broke a plate during dinner, dropping it. His punishments for you were harsh, especially if your mistake disturbed the "perfect wife" role you played for him. Sleeping alone was one of the worst punishments; you needed his touch. Having nobody to come save you and no chance of escaping guaranteed your stay here.This was your new reality. Being a replacement didn't matter to you anymore. You would do it all for him, as long as he kept his love for you.
The poison of Akaza's obsession consumes you entirely; you need him more than ever now.
Word Count: 1493
A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read! This is my first story so bear with me. Feel free to leave me any type of criticism. Requests are open and I'm always available to chat about whatever.
#akaza#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#tanjiro kamado#demon slayer x reader#akaza x reader#akaza x you#yandere akaza#douma#muzan kibutsuji#demon slayer season three#fanfic#writing#yandere#obsessive yandere#akaza x y/n#upper moons#12 kizuki
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Hello, I hope you're having a good day :)
If it's not too much trouble could you write how you think Laura would react to her darling finally accepting and realizing that they love Laura back (the details of how it happens and stuff are up to you)
Hope this is clear enough :)
Yeah it’s no problem at all!! I hope this is okay!! :]
TW: Stalking, obsession, mentions of kidnapping and imprisonment, Stockholm syndrome
You tried to stretch your legs, your knees cracking uncomfortably as you did so. Being tied up like this was beginning to make you stiff, and you were worried that if Laura ever did let you out, you wouldn’t be able to move as much. You wanted to see the sun again, to go out to eat at a restaurant, to even just lie in a bed, god anything other than just sitting on the hard laminate floor staring at the shrine of photocards and posters built in your honour. The only time that wasn’t filled with monotony was when Laura came in to try to talk to you, with “try” unfortunately being the operative word there. She was awfully shy - you actually couldn’t work out how she had the courage to kidnap you if she was this bad. Although you’d come to understand her babbling and nervous tics, she still stammered terribly.
Even so, you discovered that in your boredom, it had very quickly become your favourite part of the day.
Your heart began to beat a little faster and your hands pinned behind you began to get sweaty. You weren’t frightened of seeing her. Surprisingly, the initial terror of waking up captured in some unknown place had faded rather quickly. But still, you couldn’t shake off the excited jitters that came with looking forward to seeing her again. As if on cue, there was a quiet knock on the bedroom door, and it opened slowly, Laura poking her head in with wide eyes. Her nose was covered in flour, and she held a little dish in her hand, a spoon sticking out of it. She scuttled towards you, sitting cross legged on the floor and faced you as she put the dish between you both. In it was a sponge pudding, covered with a generous helping of crème anglaise.
“I brought - I made you s-something to… I baked this,” she stammered. “For you.”
“Thank you Laura,” you said quietly, your throat hoarse. You were terribly thirsty. You were a lot of things - you were cold, lonely, bored, thirsty, hungry, hungry to eat something other than sweets for once, yet it seemed that sweets were all Laura knew how to make. Laura picked the dish back up and used the spoon to slice off a small piece, holding the spoon up to your mouth to feed you, since you couldn’t do it yourself with tied hands. For once, you didn’t eat it, even though your stomach rolled and your mouth salivated. You turned your head away, pursing your lips. Defeated, she put the spoon back in the bowl, her bottom lip trembling as she held back tears.
“Laura, before I eat, I need to tell you something,” you said quickly, hoping you wouldn’t set off a tantrum. She nodded silently, still cradling the dish.
“I think… I’ve been thinking, Laura. About what you did,” you began to explain. “About how you sent me all those letters. How you came to me at the meet and greet. How you snuck backstage, took me home. You’ve even killed for me. Not to mention, you built all this.” You move your head to gesture to the vast collection of merchandise surrounding you both as you sat on the floor of her bedroom. “You must really love me. Don’t you?” Laura slowly nodded, unsure where the conversation was going.
“More than anyone,” she managed to choke out.
“And, I assume, you want me to love you too?”
“I… I don’t just want that. I need that,” she said, suddenly emboldened by her desire, her voice steadily growing louder. “I know you love me, even if you don’t realise it yet! We were meant to be together!”
“I know,” you say softly, hoping to calm her. “I know we must be because, well… I think I’ve realised it now.” Laura’s eyes widen, the tears that had been building up before now falling down her face. You wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t - she’s frozen in place. Just as you open your mouth to speak, she leaps towards you, nearly spilling the dish as she puts it down and pulls your immobile body into a tight hug, squeezing as if she would die if she let go. She reached behind you and untied your wrists, your shoulders popping as they ached with relief. She clung tightly to your clothes as you gently and stiffly put your arms around her, letting sob happy tears as you two embraced.
“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.”
Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post
#yancore#yandere#yandere blog#yandere fic#yandere imagines#yandere x darling#yandere drabble#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#female yandere x darling#female yandere oc x reader#female yandere oc#female yandere#yandere female#yandere gf#yandere girl#yan blog#tw stalker#tw stalking#stalking#stalker#Laura#Story#Ask
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DONT LET ME LOVE YOU | hwang hyunjin
royal au | prince hyunjin x princess reader
PART TWO -> the plan (6k words) (smut warning!)
directory
Jeongin's house was practically your second home. His parents had left him a small fortune when they died, allowing him to keep and maintain the house they'd left in his name. It had served you well over the years, especially when you needed some time away from your overbearing duties.
The cottage lay encapsulated by greenery; shrubs and tall oak trees leaving it hidden to the naked eye. It was one of those places you would only be able to find if you knew were to look. Jeongin had told you it was his great grandmas, and she had handed ownership down the family. That was evident from how old the building was, the walls covered in years worth of vines and wisteria.
After informing your brother of what your whereabouts were going to be for the next week, you'd had to beg him not to say anything to your father. "He'll just get on at me for not being at the palace," you'd said, not wanting to explain to your potentially traitorous brother the real reason you were leaving the palace for just short of a week.
Chan had, peculiarly, dismissed you quite simply. He'd appeared busy at the time, working in your fathers office, and you'd returned to Jeongin in your bedroom relatively easily. An hour was all it took for you to pack a bag of essentials, grab your horses and start your journey to Jeongin's house.
He sits in front of you, now, holding an array of playing cards in his hands. He was bluffing - you were almost certain of it. You could read all his tells - the way his eyebrows raised slightly whenever he lied, his confidence growing.
"I win," you say simply when the time comes, laying your cards flat onto the table after Jeongin reveals his hand. He scoffs, double takes, and then sits back on his heels and rolls his eyes.
"It's unfair," he whines, collecting his hand of playing cards and shuffling them. "I bet you were literally trained on how to play cards well."
You don't bother arguing with him, because he's kind of right.
"Another round?" Jeongin asks, but you shake your head in response. You'd only been at the cottage for an hour or so, but you were already getting antsy. After making sure the horses were safe in the stable behind the house, you and Jeongin had brought out the cards whilst you waited for Minho to arrive. You'd had word from Felix that he'd managed to get a pardon from his duties under the pretence that he'd come down with an illness and needed to set the next couple of days out.
Minho was supposed to already be here, though. You'd told Felix to tell him two sharp, reinforcing that you meant two in the afternoon and not two in the middle of night. Yet, here you were at just past three with no sign of him.
You needed his intel to even start putting together the basis of a plan. Three heads worked better than two, especially when the third head was a Royal Guard of your rival court and could bring information that would be impossible for you to ever get your hands on.
"Why don't I make us some lunch?" Jeongin says suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts and putting the deck of cards back into their case. He stands up from the floor of the cosy living area, smiling down at you. "I brought some food with me."
"You mean you stole some from the larder," you point out, tilting your head and pulling yourself up from the floor. "They do daily stock checks, so it's your ass if they find out, by the way."
Jeongin waves a hand in front of his face as though he doesn't care, which you assume he probably doesn't. He could talk circles round anyone, that boy. He walks past the sofa from the front of the downstairs area and into the kitchen in the back corner, pulling out a load of bread from the cupboard and laying it onto the countertop.
"Why don't you put your stuff in your room?" He proposes, turning around to talk to you face on from where you remained behind the couch. "I thought Minho could use the room straight on from the stairs, and you could use the one to the left? I'll be in the one on the right."
You nod, giving him a half smile. "Who thought we'd ever see the day Minho is sleeping in the same quarters as us?" You ask, picking up the bag you had packed which you'd dumped onto the floor upon arrival.
"If he ever shows up, that is," Jeongin points out, looking towards the old grandfather clock that sat against the wall to his left. You shrug, unable to say much else, as you wander up the stairs and into the bedroom you usually stayed in whilst you crashed here.
Jeongin had seemingly gone to great lengths to try and make his home as inviting as possible. He'd changed all the bed sheets and cleaned up tremendously since the last time you'd stayed, which may or may not have involved a bottle of your dads best champagne and the two of you getting way drunker than you should have.
You open your bag onto the bed, pulling out your clothes and placing them in a dresser. You'd be here for the next week, after all, and as silly as it seemed you thought it would ease your nerves to try and make yourself seem at home here. This whole situation was completely unknown territory, and you honestly felt as though you were in over your head.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind, you finish unpacking, taking a minute to look out the window and watch the setting sun. Now that the warmer weather was well and truly gone, darkness surrounded you quicker than it used to. There was some sort of commotion going on downstairs, and your best bet was that Jeongin had some how fucked up making sandwiches, though that wasn't so hard to believe.
You have to blink a couple times after you walk downstairs and see Minho sitting at the counter, practically hoovering up a sandwich as Jeongin stands at the other side of the counter filling up a glass of water.
"When did you get here?" You ask, taking the sandwich Jeongin had handed to you and taking a bite.
"Two minutes ago," Minho responds before chugging the rest of his water and placing the glass back onto the counter. "It was a mission."
"How come?" You take a seat beside him, giving Jeongin a look. He shrugs in response, leaning against the counter to listen to Minho talk.
"Do you know how hard it is to get out my duties and escape palace grounds and steal classified information all in the span of a day?" He states the obvious, raising an eyebrow at you. "This isn't going to be an easy feat, princess. We're wasting time just sitting here."
You nod, trying to hide the roll of your eyes. It was obvious Minho ran a very militant ship, which was not what you nor Jeongin were used to. But, if it meant saving both of your courts from whatever shit storm was about to brew, you'd be more than happy to get on board.
Minho bends down to pick his bag up from the floor, unzipping it to bring out a folder. He pulls out some documents as Jeongin clears space on the table, spreading out the sheets of paper.
"Correspondence from the logs of people who have entered in and out of the palace," he states, pointing at a few pieces of paper. "Dated back to a month ago. There's not much information, just your brothers initials a couple times, but it proves I wasn't lying about your brother being involved in all of this. The logs are kept hidden, but even though your brother has been coming secretly, they still keep note. Probably incase he tries to deny it."
It's true; your brothers thick handwriting is scrawled on these pages, his initials in multiple places on the sheets. You lean back in your seat as you read them, feeling Jeongin's intense gaze on you.
"So Chan really is double crossing us?" He thinks aloud. "His own family?"
"Don't jump to that conclusion too quickly," Minho offers, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I know what it looks like, but we don't want to paint him the bad guy so quickly. We still don't know why he was meeting with Hyunjin's dad."
"And you don't think Hyunjin knew anything about this?" You ask, turning to look at Minho directly. He shakes his head.
"I mean, I can never speak for certain, but I was with him almost every hour of every day before he left for training. The only times I wasn't we were either sleeping or he was with you, so I don't see how he could be involved in this," he answers, which reassures you, but also pains you. To know he was out training with no knowledge of the schemes taking place behind his back was terrifying.
"I'm sure your prince isn't in on anything," Jeongin adds, giving you a genuine smile. Minho turns to him, giving him one of those downturned smiles as if he's proud. Jeongin doesn't notice it, but you do. "I think right now we need to focus on Chan. He's your brother, after all, and I know you two don't see eye to eye sometimes, but I'm sure he would never intend to put you or your family in harms way."
That was an understatement. Your brother was a good few years older than you, and whilst you got on well for the most part, your brother was always much closer with your father, opting to spend most of his time learning the ways of running a kingdom whilst you were gallivanting with Jeongin. Despite that, you did agree with Jeongin. Surely your elder brother would never plan something behind your back in a malicious way.
"I don't know," you groan, leaning forward to rub your temples. "This is all pretty insane."
"It's a lot to wrap your heads around," Minho agrees, nodding with his brow furrowed. "First things first, I think you guys need to do some digging. Go back to your palace, find any information you might deem useful. Tomorrow I'm gonna meet with Felix, whilst I'm here, and talk to him. If anyone knows about messages between your brother and Hyunjin's father, it will be him. He oversees all communication between the courts."
"He does?" You ask, shocked that you didn't already know that. You realise now that there was a lot about your court that you had absolutely no idea about.
Minho nods. "Felix knew Chan from school, apparently, so he got him the job."
Jeongin seems to remember this. "I did see them together often," he relays, clearly deep in thought. "I knew I recognised him from something important."
"Yeah, well, I'll see what he knows," Minho confirms, and you nod your head at him in thanks. "He might have picked up on something suspicious. And, I can ask him to make sure he looks out for anything else."
"That would be a great help," you say genuinely. "So while you meet with Felix, Jeongin and I will head back to the palace and snoop around for anything we think might help. Then, we can reconvene afterwards and discuss what we find and try and make a plan from that?"
"That sounds good to me," Jeongin says, giving you a half smile. "Minho?"
"Yeah, fine by me, too," he agrees, and you all look at each other for a second in understanding. There's a moment of peaceful quiet, as you ponder over your plan and the only noise is the birds, until there's a sharp knock on the front door.
Jeongin turns to you with wide eyes, and you're thankful you closed all the curtains. If anyone saw the three of you here...you dread to think what would happen. As you're about to grab the small pocket knife you keep with you at all times to answer the door, Minho saunters up to it without a second thought.
You're first instinct is that he's double crossed you, and somehow you're about to be sent to your deaths. Jeongin seems to be thinking along the same lines, moving forward instantly, until Minho unlocks the door and someone's on the other side.
Hyunjin.
"What the actual fuck?" Jeongin almost shouts, doing a double take as Minho turns and gives him a 'shh!' whilst Hyunjin quickly walks into the house, dumping a back on the ground as he breaths heavily. You make eye contact then, him giving you a half grin, you with your jaw hanging open, dumbfound.
Nobody moves for a good minute, until Jeongin punches Minho lightly on the arm. "You knew he was coming?"
"First of all, ow," Minho responds, rubbing his arm. You and Hyunjin continue to stare at each other as though the other two aren't there, your open jaw becoming a smile. "Second of all, yes."
"How did you? What did you?" Jeongin says, looking between the two men and failing to finish any of his sentences, before turning his gaze to you. "Did you know he was coming?"
You screw your face up. "Do I look as though I knew?"
"It's nice to formally meet you," Hyunjin says to Jeongin, sticking his hand out. Jeongin shakes it cautiously, his face stoic. "I'm Hyunjin."
"He knows who you are you idiot," you say, rolling your eyes and walking over to greet him. He pulls you into a hug absentmindedly, his hand going straight to your hair to hold you in place. You stay like that for a second, until Minho clears his throat and ruins the moment.
"If you two are done canoodling?" He says, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull away from Hyunjin, feeling your cheeks redden.
"How the hell are you here?" Jeongin says to Hyunjin, taking the words from your tongue.
"You should be asking Minho that," he says, finally catching his breath and resting on the arm of the sofa. "I don't even know why I'm here. I take it there's no family emergency?"
"There actually kind of is a family emergency," Minho says with a knowing smirk. "We've got a lot to catch you up on."
"That's for certain," Hyunjin says with a raised eyebrow. His black hair is short, and you reckon he had to cut it for his training. He has a bruise forming near his eye and a split in the middle of his lip, but besides that he looks incredible, as always. "How come you three are in the same room without strangling each other? I though you were still mad at him for punching you?"
He directs the question to Minho, who scoffs. Jeongin butts in before Minho gets a chance to reply.
"If anyone should be mad, it's me! He punched me with a knife!" He groans exasperatedly, rolling his eyes before composing himself. "However, we have put our difference aside us for the greater good. Or the greater evil, whichever."
"How did you get him out of training?" You say to Minho, trying to deter the conversation, and still not really understanding how Hyunjin is sitting in front of you.
"Forged a letter from his father demanding he come to this address in lieu of training, due to a family emergency. I take it my grand escape worked?" He asks Hyunjin, who chuckles and shakes his head.
"It was my grand escape, but it wasn't actually very grand. I showed the general the letter and he believed it without a second glance. Honestly, that man needs fired - he's off with his consort more than he's conducting army training, and he doesn't seem to care much for the whereabouts of his cadets," Hyunjin explains with a shrug. Minho grins, happy his plan worked. "You're lucky, cause if I get found out it's your ass."
You smile inwardly at Hyunjin using a phrase he picked up from you. Before you met him, he talked impossibly proper, so hearing him say thinks like, 'your ass' makes you smirk.
"But it did work though? You're excused until after the ball?" Minho asks, and Hyunjin nods.
"Unless I get caught out, yeah. And I can always say that I had the letter sent to get myself out of army duties, so don't actually worry," he says to Minho, as if Minho was every actually worried. It honestly warmed your heart how much he cared. "But will one of you please explain what's actually going on?"
Jeongin, Minho and you share an uneasy look, and you decide to take the brunt and explain the situation.
"Your dad wants to overthrow my dad. Or, he did until my brother went to see him the other day. Basically, there's a load of shady shit going on and we think Chan is involved but we don't really know anything," you explain as simply as possible. Hyunjin blinks a couple times, turning to Minho for confirmation.
"That pretty much sums it up," Minho says with a shrug. "Did you know about any of it?"
"None," Hyunjin replies, and you can tell he's more than deflated from having no clue about the ongoings of his court, just as you were. "I knew that my dad was getting impatient about how many problems there were in our court, like the overpopulation - but I had no idea he was planning on doing something."
"There's more to it," Jeongin reminds you, and Hyunjin turns to face him. You realise he's going to tell him the part you didn't really want to mention. "Your dad wanted an alliance with hers, and proposed you two get married to solidify it."
Hyunjin blinks again, looking at you with soft eyes. You smile bashfully, trying to avoid his eyes. "Yep."
"I take it your dad didn't agree?" He asks, and you nod.
"Minho knows more about it than I do," you say, looking towards Minho who sighs as he takes a seat on the sofa.
"It seems as though her father denied the grand wedding request and your father didn't appreciate that. However, I suspect her brother has had some sort of involvement to stop your father from declaring war," Minho explains nonchalantly, as if this all wasn't the craziest thing ever. Jeongin scoffs with a smirk.
"That pretty much sums it up," he says, joining Minho on the sofa.
"That's...a lot to take in," Hyunjin raises his eyebrows, looking towards you and you nod at him. "So what are we going to do about it?"
You love the way he doesn't question anything before becoming on board with your elaborate plan to go behind both of your Courts backs. You realise then how much you'd missed being able to talk to him face to face rather than through your letters. Seeing him in the flesh almost didn't feel real.
"That's what we're still trying to figure out," you answer. "Jeongin and I are going to our palace tomorrow to try and find anything of use, and Minho's going to talk to Felix. We don't have enough insight in whatever's going on to come up with a proper plan yet."
"If I know my father, and reluctantly I do," Hyunjin says begrudgingly. "He won't have abandoned the idea of war so easily. He's been looking for an excuse to declare war for years, and now that he has one, I'll be damned if there's not a proper reason as to why he doesn't see it through."
"My thoughts exactly," Minho agrees. There's a moment of silence as the four of you look between each other, agreeing without words that something bad was happening.
"I knew something was off the minute my father was so adamant we attend your ball on Saturday," Hyunjin looks towards you, tilting his head in a way that makes the now cropped black pieces of hair fall onto his forehead. "If it wasn't a sacred tradition, my father would stop the balls altogether, yet this time he was forcing even my cousins to go, and they always seem to weasel their way out of them."
Hyunjin's cousins, Seungmin and Jisung, were two of the strangest boys you'd ever met. The brothers were constantly at odds, yet spent all their time together. Although, they did have a habit of pulling the most elaborate pranks at your balls, which always made you and Jeongin appreciative. At the last winter ball, they'd somehow managed to switch the Winter Court King's chair with a faulty one, sending him topping to the ground, without ever being caught. But by the snicker and low key high five you caught them sharing, the perpetrators were obvious.
"Why don't we get a night of rest," Minho suggests, looking at you for confirmation. "We have a lot to do, and we can start trying to come up with a proper plan once we have more information tomorrow?"
"That sounds good to me," Jeongin says as he stretches. "Now that we know Chan's involved, we know more about what we're looking for. Correspondence is kept in storage in the castle cellar, and there's a locked off area for confidential pieces."
"My fathers kind of insistent on correspondence being kept private," you say, not revealing that it's due to the fact he has a million consorts on the go and receives an influx of letters from them daily. "We each have a safe to keep anything we want private, since the staff deep clean our rooms every other day."
Hyunjin nods, clearly deep in thought. "That's your best bet," he agrees. "How trustworthy are your maids?"
You and Jeongin both look to each other, puzzled looks plaguing your faces. "I mean, I'd like to think pretty trustworthy, why?"
"You didn't hear this from me," Minho smirks towards Hyunjin. "But it's interesting how much maids overhear and don't say anything about because of their oath of loyalty. It's quite easy to get information out of them."
It's obvious Minho has used some pretty unsubtle methods of finding out information when Jeongin starts mimicking kissing noises and he only laughs. You roll your eyes, shocked at how well these sworn enemies are seemingly getting along.
"Well, I'm not going to be using your methods on my maids," you grimace. "But...Daliyah might be of help."
Jeongin snickers, shaking his head. "You're not wrong."
When Minho and Hyunjin give each other a look, you decide to explain yourself. "Daliyah and Chan had a bit of a...secret love affair. My father still doesn't know about it, since Chan cut it off before it became anything serious, but poor Dal has been more than unhappy about the whole thing. She spends a lot of time trying to be in his company. If anyone's overheard anything, it's her."
"Well I never," Minho raises his eyebrows. "Chan with a maid consort?"
You roll your eyes. "We can talk to her when we visit the palace tomorrow. Then, we should really start putting together a plan for the ball."
All three men nod in agreement, leaving the four of you in a peaceful silence. Although nothing substantial had been achieved yet, and time was ticking, having Hyunjin here lifted a weight off of your shoulders. His presence alone calmed you.
"I'm going to do some perimeter checks on the area. I'll take first watch, too," Minho says, stealth mode switched back on. Jeongin rolls his eyes.
"You don't need to take a watch. Nobody knows this place exists. I'll come with you on your checks since I need to make sure the horses will be okay for the night anyway, but don't bother staying up," he mutters to Minho, following him when he ignores the younger boys jeers and leaves mid sentence. Once Jeongin has locked the front door behind them, there's a calmness as you turn to Hyunjin.
"Hi," is all you say sheepishly, unable to quite believe that he was standing in front of you.
"Hi, beautiful," he replies easily, taking a step towards you and engulfing your hands with his own. You lean into his embrace, sighing contentedly as you do so. For a man that just basically escaped the military, he looked and smelled as divine as ever. "I'm sorry about all of this."
You look up at him as he says that. "As long as you're not double crossing me, there's nothing to apologise for. It's not your doing. Plus, if anything, I should be thanking you and Minho. There was no way Jeongin and I could have done anything to stop whatever's happening together if we caught wind of it."
"You doubt yourself," he tuts, smiling down at you. "Shall we go upstairs? My back is killing me. I had to jump over a dozen walls to get here, you know."
"My hero," you fake swoon, leading him up the stairs and into your allocated bedroom. He shuts the door behind him, shrugging off his thick winter coat and placing it neatly on the dresser beside the door. After lighting the logs on the fireplace to provide some warmth for the chilly bedroom, you sit down on the bed, patting the space next to you. "Why don't you tell me all about your time away from me?"
"Well," Hyunjin chuckles, lowering himself onto the bed beside you. "It was torture. The only thing that brought me any joy was reading your letters."
"Really?" You reply, unable to contain your smile as you stare into the eyes of the handsome man beside you. He nods.
"Mhm. I especially enjoyed reading about Jeongin falling off of his horse on one of your outings. I actually laughed out loud," he shakes his head with a smile. "It's a lot to wrap my head around, all of this, but it doesn't shock me in the slightest."
"I understand," you agree, giving him a sad smile. "I feel the same. Let's just forget about all of that while you're here. I take it you won't be staying long?"
He shakes his head, and you feel your shoulders drool subconsciously. "I'm afraid not. I need to return to training before my father finds out I'm gone, which means I'll have to leave as soon as I can tomorrow. But, I'll be back for the ball. You should be used to only seeing me in small doses by now, darling."
His nickname sends a shiver down your spine, but his words cause an ache in your chest. "I miss you terribly regardless."
"As do I," he takes one of your hands in his, beginning to rub small circles in the palm of your hand. "Is it too crazy to believe that one day, our courts will be civil and we can be together in peace?"
"Yes," you can't help but say, which thankfully makes him chuckle. "But I have hope."
"All I want is you," Hyunjin says sincerely, looking between your eyes. The stillness of the air and the white shining light from the moon adds a heaviness to the moment, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "Always. You've consumed my every thought."
You can't find the words to reply, instead letting him move closer towards you and instinctively brush some stray hairs from your face.
"I wish things could be different for us," he sighs, looking between your eyes. You can't help but play with the short dark strands at the nape of his neck, missing the long locks you were used to.
"Me too, Hyunjin," you respond, closing your eyes momentarily and breathing the moment in. When you feel Hyunjin's soft, plush lips push against yours your response is instantaneous, kissing him back with all the want and desire you'd kept captive while he was away.
It takes no time at all for him to deepen the kiss, and you can't help but think about how this was the first time you were kissing him within the safety of four walls and not outside in the warm summer air. He gently pushes you so your back is leaning against the plush bed, embracing it as he moves his body so that it's caging yours.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he says, pulling away momentarily. You shake your head, smiling up at the handsome boy in your vision.
"I don't want you to ever stop," you say, because truthfully you would never be able to get enough of him. It felt as though you were on cloud nine, having him all to yourself without worrying about being caught. The reasons you were in the confinements of Jeongin's home were forgotten as you stared dreamily into Hyunjin's eyes.
His mouth turns into a small smile. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, my love," he cautions, but his efforts are futile when you pull him back down towards you and place your lips against his again. He chuckles into the kiss, knowing you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
You didn't know if you'd ever get the opportunity to be intimate with Hyunjin. The relationship between you and him was secret kisses, hiding in the fields of the border, never wanting to take it too far for fear of prying eyes. Now, however, it felt like the days of hiding were so far in the past.
He undresses you slowly, carefully, as if he doesn't want to rush. You have to remind him that Jeongin and Minho could come back any second, but he doesn't seem to care. When you're both topless, he kisses down your neck and mumbles, "I have you all to myself for tonight. Those idiots won't ruin this for me."
You can't help the laugh that escapes you, his comment turning the somewhat bittersweet moment lighthearted, if only for a second. The tension between you rises quickly, kisses becoming heated, hands unable to stay still. Hyunjin touches every part of you before finally giving in, taking off every piece of clothing both of you had on and discarding them beside the bed.
He doesn't waste a second, kissing down your body until he's right where you need him most, looking up at you as he gently kisses your inner thighs before attaching himself at your core, making you feel a way you've never felt with any other partner you've been with before. He's so gentle, yet eager, and your breathes become short when he starts to use his fingers and tongue at the same time.
There's no feelings of self consciousness with him, not when he looks at you as though you hand painted every star in the sky. The way he comes back up to your face when you squeeze his hand, staring at you under him as though he can't believe he's looking at you. The way he caresses your cheek with his thumb when he finally pushes into you, his other hand interlinked with your own. You wince for a moment, adjusting to his size.
"I've got you," he whispers, forehead pressed against yours, his voice thick. He's suppressing himself for your sake, his eyes squeezing closed as he holds back a groan. "Don't worry, you're okay."
He starts slow, making sure you're comfortable, nodding when he starts increasing his pace and looks into your eyes for confirmation. When the pain starts turning to pleasure, you allow yourself to let go, forget about every ounce of stress plaguing your mind to focus on Hyunjin and this moment.
He kisses you deeply as he pulls himself in and out of you; your collarbone, your neck, your mouth. Your hands find his back, fingers digging deeply into the smooth flesh, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You have no idea if Minho and Jeongin have come inside yet, but right now you couldn't care less. He breathes deeply into your ear, shuddering when you pull at his hair and pushing into you so fast your gasping.
You could stay in this moment forever, attached mentally and physically to the man of your dreams, your prince. The closeness of having him inside you for the first time is a feeling you never wished to forget.
He changes his rhythm, placing one hand against whilst keeping his other firmly enclasped with yours. His combat stamina is no match for how able he is to keep himself together, keeping himself as quiet as possible. You wished for the day you could let loose, do whatever you wished in your own bed in your own home, together. To hear him groan properly without holding it in.
You take what you can get of each other, trying to keep composed but ultimately failing. Your whines slip, especially when he brings his face close to yours. All you want is for him to hear how good he makes you feel. Maybe it was because he was the first person you'd been intimate with you you'd ever loved, or maybe it was because you were so infatuated with him, but you were losing yourself to him.
Never had you been so organically yourself during intimacy. You'd only ever had sex with a couple of men, but you could never call this 'having sex'. Hyunjin was making love to you as passionately as someone had ever before.
It's not long until Hyunjin's quick and powerful thrusts send you over the edge, your toes curling and your heart racing. He doesn't just stop at once either, letting you recover and bringing back the immensely pleasurable feeling again. He brings you to your high multiple times, watching you closely and whispering sweet nothings in your ear before finally letting go himself.
What must have been an hour later, his head is resting against the headboard as you're on top of him, his firm hands gripping your sides and guiding you slowly. That's when you hear the front door open and the unmistakable sound of your supposed arch nemesis best friends laughing together downstairs.
Hyunjin rolls his eyes in annoyance, thrusting up into you, hitting the best spot a couple of times before slowing down and pulling himself out of you with laboured breaths. You're exhausted, physically and mentally, but it couldn't matter less with Hyunjin by your side. He pulls the sheets around you as you latch yourself onto him, trying to get your breathing under control as the sound of impending footsteps make their way upstairs.
"That was incredible," Hyunjin whispers softly, tracing his pointer finger over your facial features delicately. He's still staring at you with a smile when Jeongin and Minho call 'goodnight' from their rooms. You both reply, thankful that neither of them decided to come inside the room.
"I don't want you to leave again," you whisper back, your stomach twisting into knots at the thought. He shakes his head, tracing your lips.
"Don't think about that right now, hm? You're here with me now. I promise you, my darling, I will figure something out," he stresses, and you know he's being sincere. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
"I love you," he says, and although it's not the first time he's said those words out loud to you, they hold so much more meaning now. "I am so hopelessly in love with you it kills me inside knowing that life has made it almost impossible for us to be together. But if I do one thing, it will be to do everything in my power to be with you for the rest of my life."
Tears well at your eyes with his every words, but you hold them back for his sake, knowing that it will make him leaving tomorrow so much worse for the both of you if you get upset in front of him. Instead of crying, you composed yourself, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
"I love you, Hwang Hyunjin. No matter what," you say honestly, watching as his features soften and he smiles down at you. "It's you and me forever, yeah?"
"Of course, my princess," he agrees, childishly interlinking your fingers. You giggle sleepily at the action and cosying yourself up to him. "You and me forever."
I am so ridiculously sorry for the wait!!! I was gonna make the whole series three parts but I just keep writing too much so it’s now gonna be four hahaha, I hope you enjoy this part !!!
#hyunjin x reader#stray kids#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin#jeongin#lee know#felix lee#skz#han jisung#stray kids fanfics#stray kids fic#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin fluff#hyunjin fluff
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above all.
because above all, it was getou.
a/n: your honour! i love him <3
pairing: getou suguru x f!reader
warnings: brief mention of past abuse.
“You don’t think that I would?”
Getou stands there and he thinks, would you?
Would you betray everyone, all your loved ones, for him?
“I…” Getou pauses, the words stuck because even he’s not sure just what exactly he is trying—wants to say. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” is what he settles with. It’s honest, at the least, and it’s placating enough.
And yet, your face twists at the words and you seem… angry? Upset? Hurt? Getou’s always prided himself on being able to read you, understand you, but right now he can’t make out just what exactly it is you’re feeling. Least of all the possibility that he’s hurt you.
But then again, how could he not think he’s hurting you?
Your face falls and your lips turn downwards, frowning, and your eyes shift from his own as you shake your head. “You don’t think that I would…” you repeat, but your words hang in a way as you fight to finish the sentence. Fighting through the hurt of his doubt. “For you?”
Getou’s lips part, surprised.
You turn to meet his gaze again. “After everything… everything we’ve been through, you don’t think I would follow you this time?”
“I don’t want to assume,” he explains, desperate for you to understand. “This… this is different from following me into a fight. You’d—we’d be betraying everyone.”
“But if I didn’t, I’d be betraying you.”
Getou blinks. Quite honestly, he’s stupefied by your words.
“Do you believe in it?” He asks, because that’s the real test of it all, isn’t it? What’s the point of betraying everyone if you don’t believe in why Getou’s doing it in the first place? He hasn’t just decided to become a traitor for the sake of it, this… this is beyond just the two of you and your relationship. “Do you truly think that anyone without cursed energy should die? Die by my hand?”
There’s apprehension in your face and Getou hates the way his heart sinks—isn’t this what he wanted? To not force you to do something you weren’t whole-heartedly prepared to do? Least of all for him… for your feelings for him.
Still… it hurts. An uncomfortable twist in his heart that tugs and pulls and reminds him just how truly alone he is.
“I think…” You start slow, that same hesitance to find the right words. “I think what you found was—is horrible. I think what you and Satoru dealt with that day last year isn’t fair and you shouldn’t have had to witness that; either of you. I know why you feel this way and why you’re doing this and that’s why I would be willing to do it.” Swallowing thickly, you’re the first to take the step, moving towards him and closing the distance that had existed between the both of you. You stop right in front of him and your fingers twitch, as if to reach for him, but you hold back.
Unsure.
“There’s a part of me that does agree,” you admit, turning to glance at your feet. “Because… it isn’t fair, is it?”
Getou is reminded of you, young, scared, the first time he’d ever met you and he blinks, as if suddenly remembering—how could he have not realized?
“My parents… well, it was just lucky Yaga-sensei found me when he did.”
You’re the first to take the step but he breaks the distance. That awkward, tense distance that has been building as Getou takes steps closer and closer towards the darkness and you teeter, stuck in the middle, unsure. It’s been weeks of this, growing further and further apart while he refused to listen to you or explain and you were left in the dust, just trying to understand.
Getou breaks that with one fell swoop, letting his hand fall on your cheek, cupping, his thumb brushing across the skin under your eye whilst the tears well and he blurs through your vision as you turn to stare up at him.
“I can’t believe people would do that to two little girls,” you whisper, voice cracking at the end. “Two innocent little girls.”
Getou feels sick. Not because of you, but because of the fact that it’s still not yourself that has you listening to him, understanding him. Yes, how could people do that to two little girls. Yes, you were right.
But how could your parents have done what they had?
“It’s okay, Suguru.”
“No, it’s not—”
“It is because… you’re my family now.”
“It’s all just so… cruel,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, lips trembling. “I don’t want to hurt people but I don’t want to be hurt anymore either.”
“I… I won’t let them,” he utters, the words coming out rushed, fast, desperate for you to hear them and understand them and believe them. He means every word. Even if you hadn’t come with him, he would’ve understood and he would’ve continued because it all started the day he found out how your parents had beaten and starved you and did unimaginable things to you all because you could see curses.
All because they thought you were a monster.
It had started with you and he’d be damned if he ever let anything ever hurt you again.
“Nobody will ever hurt you again, Y/N.” He promises, “I'll make sure of it.”
You reach up, grasping the hand on your cheek on your own, squeezing as you pull it down, letting it rest next to you. You smile, soft, lightly, the edges of your lips curling upwards ever so lightly, as you nod. “I know.” Because you do. Of course you do. “And I'll make sure no one else will ever hurt you either, okay?”
His face twists; “even if it means…”
“Even if it means leaving them,” you nod. “They won’t understand. But… but you’re my family, remember?”
It’s twisted the way he feels elated at your words. Proud that above all, you’ve chosen him. Chosen his love and his protection and his beliefs.
But you wouldn’t have ever chosen otherwise, would you?
Because he was everything to you. “Okay,” Getou whispers, pressing his forehead against your own. “Okay.”
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#getou suguru#getou suguru x reader#getou x reader
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♥️ Choose A Pile ♥️
How A Fortune Teller Would Describe You To Your Future Spouse
Welcome! Now, choose the window that appeals to you the most. ✨
(top left is #1, top right is #2, bottom left is #3 and bottom right is #4)
PILE ONE
Mon amour... your heart belongs to a wild child. You will instantly know when you see them. The spark in their eyes certainly doesn't lie, as it's a signature of their liveliness. Their hair.. you will always admire their hair. There's something unique about it. The colour, the length.. the way they like to decorate it with flowers, hair clips, anything. Anything that will remind you of the abundance of zest they carry in their soul. You see, they truly love to get dolled up. So if you whisper to them "I like your hair this way" they will keep styling it this certain way. Following orders or advice isn't their cup of tea, but they will make an exception, just to please you. You haven't met anyone with a heart this open. With a smile so warm, bright and contagious. I'm being serious, mon amour.. their heart knows no limits. They do not count on rules and invisible borders. All they rely on is their inner wildfire. I see them dancing alone in a flower field, right here on the side of the cup. See their figure? How it covers the whole cup's side! Don't laugh, mon amour.. All this person desires to know is laughs and adventure. And they take pride in it. Offering their heart in a box, just like that, to anyone that is able to earn their trust. These wild children are, you know.. how they call it.. God's favourite. Because it is only theirs and God's love that knows no bounds. Be careful though.. do not mistake their childlike spirit with carelessness. This soul has endured the struggle of making difficult choices before.. they have come face to face with the harsh, cold, factual reality. Oh do not assume they have had it easy, mon amour, because you will devastate them. They have made their sacrifices before. And trust me when I tell you this - it took lots of courage for them to choose gentleness every time. Because their love overpowers all of their mental battles, precisely like the way the light is able to overpower the darkness.
PILE TWO
Mon amour... your heart belongs to a homesick soul. See this teary-eyed figure inside of the cup? Are you able to discern the stars all around them? This, mon amour, is the one that has been expecting you for a while. It is certain that this soul is not used to the earthly plane. This explains why they are mostly living inside their minds and fantasies. This being has been fighting against their mental chains for their whole lives, on their own. While they are capable of pouring into everybody's cup, they are still in search of how to pour into their own. Although they are highly self-reliable, they are also secretly craving for a sweet taste of what this so-called romantic love promises to humans. Every time they brood, they can't help but wonder how.. how are they capable of nourishing the whole collective and yet face trouble whenever someone approaches them a little closer than they allow? A potential lover will almost instantly get rejected ; your other half will dismissively shake their head towards them and silently whisper "oh, but you do not know how to love ME". Oh, but it's both a curse and a blessing for them to see through everything and everyone. They are curious, whether one day they will be read like an open book as effortlessly as other people are read by them. Oh, mon amour.. if they only knew that your loneliness matches perfectly with theirs.. if they only knew that when they get to connect with you, their whole world will start glowing, just like the carefully chosen jewellery they wear on their skin.. just like the stars their soul essence originates from.. Their heart is made of pure golden stardust, but they have digged deep under the soil of the earth to plant it. And you, mon amour, not only will you be able to dig this heart out for the sun to see, but you will teach your other half how to plant the prettiest flowers out of it as well.
PILE THREE
NOTE: (please don't get offended if you are a man 😂 helen of troy was what i literally heard during the reading and it strongly gave me this type of feminine vibe, in general. Just think of an equivalent if it is bothering you. thank you for your understanding ❤️)
Mon amour... your heart belongs to a Helen of Troy. When you meet them , you will instantly recognise that this is a high caliber woman/man. They are desired by many. They attract people like moths to lights.. their appearance is mesmerising and their sensuality never goes unnoticed. But what strikes to me, mon amour, is their ingenuous nature. Although they acknowledge the power of their charm, they seem -not only down to earth- but they also desire to stay almost hidden from the world. For many, they are their "ideal" and instantly grow heart eyes around their presence. But rather, your other half knows better than throwing away their precious heart. They might not come from a wealthy family.. but they seek to be treated like royalty. And that is so, only because they are able to offer as much. Be aware, mon amour.. I am not referring to riches and material gifts.. but rather the only thing they view as true treasure ; wisdom of simplicity. That is right.. your one true love is quite traditional. Not necessarily in a religious, old era way.. but they prefer a life with all the God given pleasures. This soul is craving for simple life concepts like stability and a beautiful home.. and they hope to share these with you.. oh mon amour.. I can envision the way their ethereal face will soften whenever you reassure them and hold them close to you.. I can see them praying for a life partner like you.. someone who shares the same values and cherishes what life has to offer.. They pray for a reality away from the lustful eyes, the misery of the world, the envy, the mere hearts of those around them that cannot comprehend the wealth of their inner world, of those who mistaken her self-defense for arrogance .. they pray for their kindness to never be taken advantage of again.. And trust me, mon amour.. their prayers have already being heard by the one strong force that seeks to put you two together.. Your hearts beat as one.. always have..
PILE FOUR
Mon amour.. your heart belongs to a mystic. I envision of someone who is beautifully complex. They are frequently viewed as someone with a golden tongue or someone whose tongue cuts sharp. Allow me to inform you, mon amour.. they are both of these people. Your other half does not hesitate to state their opinion. Elegantly, they pose as the messenger of truth and they fully embody this role, as they seem to be light years ahead of the rest of their peers. Now you might think, mon amour.. is this person... overly critical? Are they being inconsiderate? No... I can clearly see the size of their flaming heart right in your cup. I know that, their soul comes from a place of love. They are gifted with psychic talents, sharp intuition and they are always prepared to sacrifice themselves for love. Oh mon amour.. if only you could see the amount of effort they put in all of their relationships.. how willing they are to help their friends.. the romantic movies they watch over and over again, catching themselves daydreaming of someone like you.. Do not let their bluntness fool you once you meet them. Their heart is as soft as silk. All they live for is to protect the vulnerable and act directly out of pure love. Don't you worry about the soft mischief God gave them.. it is their spice that makes them, them. And put your trust in my vision, mon amour.. you will have access to their transparent sweetness.. because as you click with each other.. all of their walls will be demolished.. and they will make sure you get a taste of their otherworldly tenderness. Because, you are the only one who they will view you as someone who is on the same level as theirs.. For them, a life partner is somebody whom they spread the same creed with. And do not forget to cherish them, mon amour.. for they are the most sincere, the wisest soul you have ever met.. and they will almost forget of their boldness every time you will lovingly stare into their eyes..
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Jungkook
𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 : I can't save us
There are lessons in life no one should have to learn.
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt & Comfort, Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of depression and depressive thoughts, heartbreak, homelessness, it's a bit heavy sorry, mentions of mental abuse and manipulation, betrayal, slow burn, eventual smut, dead dove do not eat
Dead Dove do not eat: warning for potentially triggering content that can't be tagged without spoiling the story.
Length: 2.5k words
-> Masterlist
~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~
"Have you informed police about it?" Yoongi wants to know, sitting on the youngest's couch, but the idol in question immediately shakes his head.
"They'll put her into a shelter, and she would stay forever in there due to the fact that you can't put a legal NDA on her- so the company told me she could never be adopted by anyone ever again- they, they'd make sure of it-" Jungkook rambles, holding his head, and Yoongi feels both confused and concerned over the entire situation. He himself never really knew why Jungkook suddenly gave his hybrid away back then- he never really talked about it, avoided the topic, so the rapper simply assumed you both broke up and decided to part ways. But from what he hears right now, Jungkook still very obviously still cares about you.
So what really happened?
"But if you care about her so much, why'd you give her away?" He wonders, looking at the younger Idol in front of him.
"When.. Jin-hyung got engaged, remember?" Jungkook tries to explain himself. "The stalking, the comments, the airport incident, the protests- I… got scared. I just wanted her to be safe, a-and when I saw everything happen to him, I just felt so awful because I never thought of that.." He rambles, making Yoongi nod in understanding.
"I mean, I won't lie and say it was a cakewalk-" Yoongi starts. "But they got through it, didn't they? No one really cares about it anymore." He shrugs.
Jungkook stays silent at that, looking at nothing in particular, while his hands hold the tri-colored dog plushy that belonged to you at some point. "Jungkook.. you're not fine." Yoongi tries to reason next to him. "And you won't be fine unless you either fix this, or close this chapter-" He attempts, but Jungkook shakes his head, letting his head hang low.
"There's no fixing anything, hyung." He sighs in defeat. "There's nothing left to fix." The idol simply says, seemingly having given up.
"You're not even trying-" Yoongi shakes his head, but Jungkook grows irritated at that, it seems like.
"I've tried!" He argues with teary eyes. "I've tried, I failed, and I can't accept it!" He sobs, fingers clenching the soft material of the plush toy. It's long lost any scent of you, and he feels terrible for it. He should've just left it in your room, where it would've waited loyally until he himself would man up and bring you back home. But was this even a home to you anymore?
He can't tell.
What's the point of anything if he completely fucked up not only his potential future, but yours as well? He's taken every chance of a happy life from you because of his own selfishness back then. Because he didn't think it through, didn't realize that there were issues at hand that he should've been able to foresee. But he had been blinded by his own love for you that he was convinced love alone would be enough down the line. That if he loved you enough, the world would protect you as well.
But it doesn't work like that.
"How about we go one step at a time?" Yoongi wonders from the side, careful not to rile the young man up again. "one step at a time, nothing more."
"But every step I take towards her will only make it worse.." Jungkook denies, shaking his head. His eyes are still red from crying, head aching from the force of his sobs. He can't deal with the fact that you're still outside, sleeping god knows where, probably running off further and further away from him. Maybe you're not even there anymore, maybe you've been hit by a car, run over by a train-
"Jungkook you're having a panic attack-" Yoongi worries, trying hard to calm his friend down. "We can get her back here, just for now, okay? We can bring her here where it's warm, where she's safe- Jungkook there's security here, no one will harm her here." He attempts to push through whatever train of thought is running through his friend's mind at the moment.
"And then what?!" Jungkook breaks out. "She hates me, she has to- I hate myself too.!" He confesses, and the producer nods in front of him.
"I know, Jungkookie." He nods in sympathy. "I know you do."
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"Come on tannie, do your business so we can go back inside!" Taehyung whines, watching his tiny dog roam around the streets, a rare break from the rain having given him a chance to have his dog go a little round outside to stretch his own legs as well for once. The weather is terrible, and he hopes that everyone's safe tonight.
His dog is yapping at something in the distance, before he seems to try and jump up at a person, a white cat tail peeking out from a little oversized dark blue coat. Similar to one Jungkook used to have, he thinks to himself, as the person bows down to pet the dog.
Wait.
Taehyung walks closer, can't see your face- but he knows it must be you. He doesn't know the entire story, or what's really going on- but he knows that Jungkook and you were together at some point, until you both broke up, the reason never declared to anybody. And he himself didn't ask- at the end of the day, he'd hoped his best friend would open up to him at some point himself, but he never really did. What were you doing back in Seoul? Last time he saw you, you'd taken a train.
"Hey- you should probably go inside soon, before the weather gets worse again." Taehyung tells you, picking up his dog. "I'm sorry he's barking so much. He doesn't like cats." He apologizes, and you just nod, smiling at the little dog. And much to his surprise, you reach out to pet him, something the Pomeranian eagerly accepts. "Oh? You're just excited?" He asks his dog, and you nod as if to answer for him.
He gets why Jungkook liked you. You seem very friendly, but also calm in nature- and from what he can see, you're very pretty as well.
"Hey- Jungkook asked about you a few days ago." Taehyung tells you, and you tense up at that, as if you just realize who he is. "He never really said what happened between you two?" He questions. "Though, it's fine if you don't wanna say. It doesn't really concern me, I was just wondering." He shrugs, and you don't answer. Ah yes- he remembers Jungkook once said something about you being really quiet. "Well-" He nods, bowing respectfully to you. "-take care, okay?" He offers, and you nod, before pointing at him as if to say 'you too'.
Before you leave, swallowed up by the night.
And he can't help but feel a bit weird.
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You're sure he just wants you to go back to Hanako.
You won't be doing that- Hanako doesn't want you, and shouldn't be forced to take care of you. You didn't even need to hear why he was there- his scent had immediately alerted you of his presence. You could never forget him at any point in your life. He's haunting you like a bad dream, constantly filling your mind. You were definitely stupid to even come to Seoul- but your transportation ticket has expired at this point, giving you no legal way of getting out of here.
You don't want to go back to Hanako. She should live her own life, and not spend it taking care of you. It's not fair.
You didn't sleep at all since yesterday- somehow now terrified of him finding you at any point, forcing you to go back where you came from. He's mad, isn't he? You didn't do what he said, even if he didn't even say anything at all. Will he send out authorities after you now? Has he told police you're missing yet? You can't trust anybody now, shouldn't- or maybe you should dye your hair and hybrid features, maybe that would help you at least a little not to stand out anymore. Maybe that'll help.
Maybe it'll make you a better ghost.
You're awfully tired today, but not as in sleepy. Your muscles feel weak, like you've done a horrible workout- but they're not hurting. It's more like they just won't work the way they're supposed to- and it's making you stumble and trip constantly, jeans already cut open by the pavement ground. You're also not sure anymore where exactly you are- you know you should remember these streets, but the memories are foggy, unclear, making you unsure and scared of your surroundings.
And your arm is hurting, skin tender and muscles below aching bad.
You know you shouldn't scratch it, but you can't help the irritating feeling of it bothering you to the point of tears. You've got no money for food left, nothing to really buy you anything- and in a way, it feels like the end.
Like you're about to become a real ghost.
Is Jungkook at home? He must be, considering its pretty late, and the weather is still pretty bad outside. No one really wants to be out in the rain like this, the wind constantly blowing your hair around, wet strands sticking to your face. It forces you somewhere more secluded, a parking lot belonging to an apartment complex- having you climb over a fence to get to it, a more tedious action than usual considering your physical state. You know something's wrong with you, but you can't really do much about it, can you? Going to a hospital would just lead you into a shelter, or worse, back to Hanako who's probably happy right now you're not with her.
You just want to sleep a little, right here, underneath the little roof for the bikes standing around. It's not dry at all, but it's at least something. It's a dark corner where no one will see you until tomorrow morning when everyone will start going back to work. It'll be alright until then.
You just need a little nap, you think, as you curl up in the very corner to close your eyes just for a moment.
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"Let's go." Yoongi offers suddenly, getting up.
"What?" Jungkook whines almost in protest, before his friend forces him up from the couch as well.
"Grab a blanket or something we can put in the back of my car. We're gonna go out, search for her, get her back home." He says.
"But what if it's not home for her anymore?" Jungkook weakly protests. "She-"
"One. Step. At. A. Time." Yoongi shakes his friend by the shoulders a little. "First, find her. Then, get her here, where she can warm up, where we can talk. Step after step Kook, no running this time." He scolds, and Jungkook weakly nods, walking into his bedroom to fetch a blanket.
Later in the car, it's silent for a moment- until Yoongis car alerts him that someone's calling his phone. A little annoyed, he declines it, instead turns towards his friend in the passenger seat.
"Where do you think she might've gone to?" Yoongi asks the Idol sitting next to him in the car. The rapper has put down the seats of his car in the back, making room for you to comfortably lay in in case they find you tonight- a thick blanket covering the interior of the backseats and trunk area.
"I don't know." He sighs in defeat, trying to keep an eye on everything passing by as they drive around the neighborhood you were last seen- but there's no sight of you. "She's probably hiding. Hyung, the weather is so bad-" He worries, watching how they have to drive a bit slower to not spray the water everywhere on people walking past them, and his fears only grow when the first lighting of the night rips through the sky above. It's barely seen amongst the tall buildings, and for the first time, he feels small, tiny, insignificant. Do you feel intimidated by the tall structures? He remembers when you first met, you told him he was scary because he was so much taller than you.
Tall things scare you. You've got a fear of heights, a fear of flying.
"I know it's scary, but focus." Yoongi offers, driving carefully. "She's smart though, isn't she?" He offers, and Jungkook nods almost on instinct. Of course you're smart. The smartest around, the smartest cat he's ever known. "Then she must've tried to find shelter around somewhere further away after she's noticed you. She wouldn't want to get caught in case authorities are after her- she doesn't know you didn't call anybody, right?" He asks, and Jungkook nods again. "See? So she probably wandered a bit further away, tried to find somewhere secluded, sheltered, where she could sleep for tonight."
Yoongi is right. But still, it worries Jungkook greatly that there's no trace of you, that he can't seem to figure out where you could've gone. He's lived together with you for years, has loved you- but right now, he's so unsure of everything he's done and doing and going to do, that he doesn't trust in anything his mind comes up with. It could all just make it worse, and he doesn't want to make it worse.
He's done that enough.
Taehyung calls again, and this time, Yoongi accepts, well aware that his friend won't stop until he's picked up the call.
"Taehyung- it's not a good timing right now." Yoongi says into the car's speaker system as he accepts the call from the younger singer.
"Yeah I know, but Jungkook isn't picking up his phone." He whines almost, in the background the sound of Yeontan's nails clicking on the floor. "Has he made up with his ex?"
"I'm in the car, what are you talking about?" Jungkook snaps almost irritated. He doesn't like that word, 'ex' all that much. It implies that you two broke up, which.. never actually happened. You were broken up by everyone around you, but you never chose to break up willingly. That's a huge difference to him.
"Oh, hey" Taehyung greets. "It's just- cause I saw her outside a few minutes ago, and-" He says, but immediately, both Yoongi and Jungkook try to interrupt him.
"Where?!" The youngest bandmember asks, leaning into the control console of the car as if that would make his friend answer quicker. "Taehyung, where the fuck did you see her?!" He presses.
"Uh, near your apartment, why?" He asks. "I thought she came from yours, that's why I thought you two made up or something.." He says, and one look towards Yoongi is all it takes.
His hands immediately setting the turn signal before he rushes back.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#hybrid imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook imagine#bts jeon jungkook imagine
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A Mission of Another Kind
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N
-- Both Parts
Summary: Jake is assigned to a mission he did not think he would have to take part in, despite training for it with everyone else. Considering its high level of danger, you had been happy he hadn’t volunteered for it, until he came to your house one morning to tell you he had been assigned and would be leaving within the hour.
Warnings/Notes: Um…it’s a little angsty I guess. There might be cursing (I don’t actually know. I didn’t go back and check. I just assume there is because that’s usually my thing). Love confessing because I am a s-u-c-k-e-r for it. happier stuff at the end. Bradley “the brother” Bradshaw. Smut No Minors (18+)
Part of Wants and Needs Series. Takes place after Scrapes and Bruises. I just put both parts together for this.
Words: 4178
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“Baby,” Jake sighed. “Baby, say something.”
He kneeled in front of where you sat on the couch, trying to catch your eye as you picked at the fingernail you accidentally broke when your boyfriend walked through the door and told you he was leaving you.
You swallowed hard, voice raspy from the sudden dryness at the back of your throat when you said, “I thought you weren’t on this one.”
He took your hand in his and squeezed. “Plans…changed a bit,” he said, but you still couldn’t get yourself to look at him.
You knew what truths you would see in those green eyes if you did: that this mission was no joke, and the potential for something happening to him was now significantly higher than you were comfortable with, to put it mildly.
He had explained a bit of it to you, back when he thought we wasn’t going to be a part of it. Mav and Cyclone had asked for volunteers first but based on what Jake told you—the level of accuracy and skill required to succeed—you couldn’t imagine why anyone would. There would be no room for error. You were just glad he hadn’t been first in line to sign himself up. Jake loved his attention, and a few months ago he would have stepped forward, ready to further prove his talents, but when he met you that goal became secondary. And while he had been on missions since you committed to one another, they were nothing like this one. This one, which had been dubbed by the team “the riskiest since their first at Top Gun.”
Learning about that first mission gave you nightmares for weeks. By the time you came around, the team didn’t so much talk about it anymore, their conversations drawn more towards the present, but eventually Rooster gave you the details.
He told you that had it not been for your boyfriend, your honorary uncle and best friend would have died that day. But as you slept, your subconscious twisted those details into a million different nightmares that were so vivid behind closed eyelids they had you shooting out of bed, suffocating solely because your lungs refused to take in the available oxygen prying at your airways. Jake, not the heaviest of sleepers as it was, would shoot up a minute later at the sound of your gasps, putting his hands on your face to ground and center you with his touch. He’d beg you to open your eyes, to see him, and on the nights when your brain couldn’t quite comprehend his words, he’d kiss you until your chest stopped constricting and you remembered how to inhale.
Every night as he tucked you back into his side, he would ask what happened, but you never told him. You would just shake your head and settle against the warmth of his body, knowing you wouldn’t be able to explain what went on in your head without sobbing. You wouldn’t be able to both breathe and describe just how tortured you were by your own subconscious’s crafted images of his death.
“They only gave me an hour,” he said.
An hour that surely started the minute he left base, which he would have to be returned to before those sixty minutes were up. You tried to calculate the time: the sum of the drive to your house, the drive back, the full minute he spent staring at you after you opened the front door to let him in, the five minutes it took for him to tell you what was about to happen, the three minutes you spent in silent shock. How many minutes were you wasting by not looking at his handsome face? How many minutes had you already wasted without your mouth on his? You didn’t know. You had no idea where to start, and no desire to spend another minute trying to figure out just how little time you had left with him.
His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking back and forth along your cheekbone, and you raised your head to look at him. He was so beautiful, even with his brows pinched in concern and eyes greener from the red tint surrounding the irises.
“They wanted me to call instead,” he whispered, “but I couldn’t not see you.”
His eyes were scanning over the features of your face. Memorizing, you realized. Packing away into the corners of his mind every freckle, mole, and sunspot on your skin. The curve of your lips, the line of your nose, the angle of your jaw. Memorizing it all, the same way you were as you looked at him so you wouldn’t forget a thing; not even the scar above his brow from that time he and Rooster decided to be idiots and attack one another.
“Why you,” you asked.
“One of the guys who volunteered was declared unfit this morning. We all trained for it. They asked for me, and I can’t tell them no,” He replied. “I told Rooster. He’s going to come stay with you while I’m gone.”
You nodded in understanding, proud of your strength in the simple action when every fiber of your being begged you to shake your head at every word that had come out of his mouth from the moment he walked through your door.
His fingers slowly drew lines down the curve of your cheek until his index finger found its spot crooked under your chin and his thumb carefully ran over the plumpness of your bottom lip. He rose a bit on his knee and kissed you hard.
Your hands met at the back of his head, fingers weaving through his hair as his tongue brushed against yours. He sucked lightly on your bottom lip before giving it a little bite, forcing a weak whimper that his deep groan muffled.
You didn’t know how long you sat there, pouring every good, intense, honest, beautiful feeling you had for him into that kiss, but he clearly did. He must’ve been counting down the seconds you had left. Every time he tried to stop himself by separating your lips, only a half-second would pass before he was kissing you again. And three times that happened before he finally stopped, let out a shaky breath, and met your eyes.
He sighed as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and with a small smile that was not the tiniest bit believable, he said, “Baby, I need you to tell me to go.”
“What?”
“If you don’t tell me to go,” he shook his head, “I’m never going to walk out that door.”
“But—”
“Baby, please.”
The thought made your stomach flip. To say the words that would send him away was not an ability you had within you. But when you looked at him, when the pain behind his stare bore into your heart, you knew you’d have to find a way to do it; to be strong for him.
You kissed him again and settled your hands on the sides of his face with a smile that was no more convincing than his had been. Then you leaned forward, rested your forehead against his and closed your eyes. You took a moment, just to breathe in the same space as he was, to know that was he was alive and safe.
Your lips parted, and with a crack in your voice, you said—
“Go to work, Jake.”
A tear streamed down your cheek, and you bit your bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
He inhaled deeply, it exhaling as a puff against your face.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Then he slipped out of your grasp like sand through spread fingers. And by the time you opened your eyes, he was gone, door closing behind him with a slam that echoed down the hollow hall in tune with your sobs.
“What’s going on in there,” Rooster asked, tapping your forehead with an index finger.
You curled your legs under you in the cream armchair and tucked your fuzzy blanket around your hips as your friend handed you a cup of coffee. Mumbling your thanks, you took a drink before placing it on the side table.
Rooster sat on the couch across from you, sipping from his own mug and carefully watching your every move. He had been doing so as much as he could for the last seventy-eight hours and thirty-two minutes. From the moment he arrived at your doorstep, he barely let you out of his sight.
He knew how terrified you were, even if you didn’t quite show it. He knew what you had experienced before: the fears you’d had as a child when your father was sent on missions, and then the horror of his death a year and a half ago when his plane went down during a joyride. You had your reasons to be afraid, valid ones, and Rooster promised to do everything within his power to be there for you in whatever way you needed. Even if that meant ignoring the emotions you were trying so hard to conceal from him.
And he knew you were heartbroken, having heard your desperate sobs as he sat by your door each night after you said you were going to bed. He’d dragged your comfiest lounge chair right outside your bedroom and took post like a guard dog, even though the threat attacking your heart was not something he could reach out and touch, let alone defend you from.
But still, he waited, just so you could have the reassurance that if you needed him, if you chose to share your emotions, he could be by your side in five seconds or less. He would stay with you if that was what you wanted; maybe attempt to distract you with lame jokes and stories of sweet memories, or maybe hold your hand the way he used to, when you were children having sleepovers in rooms so dark your minds would run away with you until you saw monsters that weren’t there. You had always been like a little sister to him, and he wasn’t about to leave you alone in the darkness.
“He’s going to come back, Y/N,” he said. “I know…I know your dad didn’t. And,” he swallowed hard, “I know my dad didn’t. But—”
“Brad,” you uttered his name with a detectable ache. “I love you, but you don’t have to do this. You just being here is enough.”
A look of uncertainty flashed across his face, but it was gone with your next blink. Then he chugged the rest of his coffee, wiped his mustache free of remaining droplets, and said, “Mav will call us they minute they get back. Which could be at any time.”
“Could be, yea.”
Rooster shook his head. “Y/N—”
“He told me he loved me,” you blurted out, “right before he left.”
Those words were at constant war with the horrible fears that wouldn’t leave your mind, and they were losing. When he whispered those three words in that perfect order, your heart had swelled—but it then plummeted into the pit of your stomach before you had a moment to feel the beautiful weight of his declaration. You wanted to be happy to hear him say it; you wanted to smile and laugh and kiss him and hold him and have him inside you, but you couldn’t. You didn’t even have a chance to say it back.
Your vision began to blur from the glossy coating of tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.
Rooster stared at you, and you couldn’t begin to guess what was running through his head, but then he blew out a breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, and said, “Good. I was wondering when he was going to man up and say it.”
“You knew?”
He made a face that perfectly complimented his snort. “It’s painfully obvious,” he chuckled. “But yes, he said so as well.”
Sitting up a little straighter in your chair, you rubbed the trails of salty water off your chin. “When?”
“When you were having those nightmares.”
He raised an eyebrow at the way your lips parted as if ready to deny his claim, but you restrained yourself, so he continued.
“Yea, he told me. He was worried. Some might say overly worried, to be honest with you. I asked him if he was in love with you, and he said yes.”
He said yes.
The words reverberated within the shell of your skull. It had been two months since those nightmares. Now, even if you wanted to, his confession of love was not something you could convince yourself was an impulse driven by your shared worries of losing one another. No, he loved you; fully and truly, and apparently had for a while. For a man who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, you were surprised he managed so well with such a secret. Or perhaps it wasn’t a secret, and you just didn’t see what was there. You could suddenly recall those moments when Jake gave odd reactions to comments about your future that you casually brushed off without a second thought.
That day at the beach, watching the neighborhood children play in the sand as you let the sun dry your skin. Their giggles when they ran about splashing water at one another had made you smile. Jake had looked over at you and said, “do you want one?” but you only chuckled and shoved at his arm, never once considering why it was that he had not laughed with you.
At breakfast that one weekend morning when his uncharacteristically nervous energy kept him from taking a bite of his eggs until he blurted out, “do you think your dad would have liked me? Like really liked me?” Your head tilted in confusion at the randomness of the question as you chewed a mouthful of bacon, but then he just shrugged and mumbled, “Nevermind.”
The night the two of you returned to your house after driving to the next state over for your cousin’s birthday party. You were slightly tipsy, groaning about your aunt being unable to go twelve seconds without bragging about her daughter’s impending wedding while simultaneously complaining about its horrendous but “necessary” price tag. From the snide comments she had thrown at you for years about how you probably wouldn’t marry, you found her incessant chattering incredibly irritating. Jake handed you a glass of water to calm you down, and with thoughtless sarcasm you said, “maybe I should just make her happy and never get married.” His smile was small and weak and unconvincing, but you figured he was just exhausted from the drive.
Too many moments in the past few months had completely gone over your head, and now your mouth was full of the taste of naïve idiocy.
“Bradley, I’m, um—” you shoved the blanket off your legs and stood on wobbly legs. “I’m going to take a nap.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yea, f-fine. I just need to rest.” What you needed was to pass out so the memories of you unintentionally hurting your boyfriend didn’t torture you while he was off risking his life.
“Y/N—”
“Really, Brad. I’m OK.”
But he still followed after you, taking a seat in the chair he set up outside your bedroom door as you closed it behind you.
You had finished your fourth cup of coffee, fourth in the one hour since Rooster left, and were now ready to pour yourself a fifth from the freshly brewed pot. Its effectiveness had worn and it had practically lost its taste at this point; its purpose now only serving to give you jittery hands and something to do while you waited for your friend to return.
He hadn’t told you why he was called back to base, though you couldn’t blame him; he didn’t seem to have the answer himself. Truthfully, you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that he had been called away because of something to do with Jake—that mission—but you tried not to allow yourself to focus too intently on that possibility.
“You going to be ok,” he had asked you, to which you smiled and nodded. He didn’t quite seem to believe you, but he didn’t have the choice to stay behind and spend the time dissecting the look in your eyes.
Stirring sugar into the mug, you heard the click of an opening door and the following thud of it closing. He’d come back sooner than you thought, but it was for the better. Alone with the silence of the house for the longest time since Jake had left heightened your anxiety and pricked at your nerves.
“I hope you want more coffee, because I made a ton and I don’t know if I can have another cup after this,” you called from the kitchen. “I’m already getting a little shaky.”
“Well damn, baby, how much have you had?”
The mug slipped from your fingers, shattering on collision with the kitchen tile.
Rooster was going to kill you. The fact that the mug he bought you was now a scattered disaster of ceramic pieces on the floor when your ‘My Boyfriend is a Pilot,’ one sat protected in the upper cabinet was bound to piss him off. But he would just have to forgive you, if only this once.
You took a step back, but before you could turn, strong hands on your waist stopped you.
“Careful.”
Your body was pulled away from the mess at your feet and your back hit a solid wall of muscle. Those hands left a trail of tingles as they slid across your stomach until arms were wrapped around your middle. Soft lips found the side of your neck.
“Hi, baby,” was a mumble between kisses.
Tears were pushing their way to the surface. You knew his voice, every element of it—its tone, its depth, the gravely way it could get when he was turned on and desperate—but knowing was not hearing. And hearing him, especially when there had been the possibly of never doing so again, overwhelmed you. “Jake?”
“Who else,” he snickered. “Gone for a few days and you’ve already forgotten what I feel like, huh? We’re going to have to fix that.”
He twisted your body in his arms and lifted to sit you on the island counter, already pawing at the buttons of the shirt you wore—his shirt—but he stopped when he noticed the droplets that were making little puddles on your thighs.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He tucked the stray pieces of hair behind your ears so he could see you fully. “Talk to me.”
He was so beautiful; everything about him. And knowing that he loved you, that this man loved you enough to fight to get home to you, broke a dam. You sniffled and rubbed your fingers under your eyes to rid some of the moisture gathered there. “I just can’t believe you’re ok.”
“Oh, baby,” His hands cupped your face, thumbs smoothing the tears you missed into the skin of your cheeks. “I know you’re disappointed, but you don’t have to cry about it.”
“That’s not funny,” you weakly snapped, smacking him in the arm.
“You smiled, though.” He chuckled and pulled your face to his. “Come here,” he whispered and kissed you, tongue immediately sneaking between your lips. Fingers went back to work on your shirt buttons, quickly undoing each one until he could slide the fabric down your shoulders, but just as he nearly removed it entirely, heavy footsteps had him breaking your kiss and wrapping the shirt closed to cover your bare torso.
“Home all of five minutes and you’re already attacking one another,” Rooster snorted. “Well, if I am not just stunned. I came back to get my stuff, not to see a free show.”
Jake groaned when Rooster went to grab the bag he had brought over days ago, and he looked up at the ceiling as if praying for the inner strength not to pummel your friend into the ground. “I hate him.”
Giggling, you said, “No, you don’t,” and you tilted his head back down so you could see every fleck and speck and shade of green in his eyes. He nudged his nose against yours, lips a hairs-width away from connecting again.
“I’m still here, you know.”
“Oh, my God, Rooster,” Jake’s head fell against your breasts with a sigh before he rose and looked to his left. “Thank you, truly, for taking care of her, but if you don’t leave now, you will be watching us have sex against this counter.”
Rooster made a face. “Fair,” he said, “that’s fair.” And he was out the door faster than you could say your goodbyes.
“Jake—”
He hummed, eyebrows downturned at the center and still fuming, stare attached to the direction Rooster had taken to leave as you rested your hands at the back of his neck.
“Kiss me.”
“I feel like he’s going to come back.”
Your laugh—your first real, loud, joy of a laugh since he had returned, drew his attention back to you, and he grinned wide, without restraint. “I missed you,” he said and ran a knuckle softly down your cheek. “You have no idea how much.”
“I know exactly how much.”
Jake’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion when you hoped down off the counter and folded your finger behind the front of his belt. As your other hand began to undo the clasp, you walked backwards and led him to your bedroom.
Quick as you were, he rid himself of his clothes and grabbed you, attaching his lips to your neck to suck and nibble and leave little marks behind. You didn’t care that anyone would see them the moment you stepped out the front door. You wanted his claiming kisses and bites and bruises, and to wear them with pride. You wanted his love documented on your body.
“Lay down, Jake,” you whispered, and he did as he was told, stretching across the mattress and weaving his fingers with yours to steady you as you swung a leg over his thighs.
Shifting your hips on top of him until you were stable only made him harder, cock resting against your stomach as his eyes drank in everything before him. He groaned when you placed a palm the outside of his length and pressed it harder against your belly, running that hand up and down and smearing pre-cum over his tip with your thumb.
“Jake?”
He hummed, eyes screwing shut as your fingers wrapped around him and lightly squeezed.
“I love you.”
Those emerald eyes shot open and he sat up fast, your breasts pressing deliciously against his pecs. He stared into you, and one at a time his hands found your cheeks. His kissed your forehead, and then your nose, which made you giggle, and then your lips.
With a hoarse moan, you melted and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Lift up, baby,” he said.
You rose on your knees, and with a hand between your bodies, Jake pumped his cock and lined himself up with your entrance. “Down,” he whispered, helping you ease yourself lower until he was fully sheathed inside you.
He cursed under his breath when you ground your hips, and you whimpered. He stretched you so perfectly and filled you so fully. Every moment with him, every second since you heard his voice in the kitchen, was just one more piece of him you realized you could have lost. His sounds, his feel, his taste. Days ago, you weren’t sure how you could survive losing any of that—now you knew you wouldn’t be able to do so if you tried.
“I love you,” he said with a soft sigh, hands trailing up your spine.
And that. Those words, had you never again heard them from his lips, the part of you that he owned would have died with him.
His thumb swiped under your eye and he kissed your cheek. “Don’t cry.”
You hadn’t even realized you were, too far gone to the feel of your hips grinding against his, your breaths melding, hearts thumping in beat with one another.
“You’ve got me,” he said, and you nodded.
He wrapped his arms tighter around you and flipped you over until your back hit the mattress. Slowly, he pressed gentle kisses up the valley of your breasts, to your collarbone, your jaw, and when he met your lips, he grabbed the back of your knee and hiked it up around his hip, thrusting into you hard. The air wanted to leave your lungs, but that gasp was smothered by his mouth on yours.
“You’ve got me, baby. I’m here,” he whispered, his lips grazing yours as he dragged his cock out before pushing back into your clenching walls. “We’re safe.”
Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @moonknightscape @fangirlingoverfangirls
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#glen powell#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin x y/n#jake hangman seresin fic#top gun jake seresin#jake seresin oneshot#jake seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin fanfic#top gun hangman#hangman x reader#jake seresin top gun#jake hangman x reader#top gun maverick#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun
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Wake me up when the battle ends | Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You and the Hawkins gang prepare for the grand battle to defeat Vecna, which includes getting separated from Eddie. Or, you and Eddie say your last goodbyes
Word count: 0.8k
Request: Can you write about Eddie in a bandana
A/N: Do you get the title ref? Also...Eddie in a bandana, YES
-
You knew you were going to have to separate at some point. It was inevitable. Teamwork is better when divided into smaller teams. It’s like in the army. Soldiers are divided into smaller teams to protect better, to fight better.
Now, neither of you were soldiers. Steve was gravely injured, but he was holding up, which played in your game plan.
The plan was simple; go to Creel house and kill Vecna from the source. In order to do that, you had to send a team to Creel house and another elsewhere to distract the bats long enough for Steve, Nancy and Robin to make it to the house.
‘’I could play guitar?’’ Eddie suggested. ‘’Would that be loud enough to attract them?’’
Dustin nodded. That worked. And, since the Upside Down was pretty deserted and vaste, the sound would echo and be louder. It was perfect.
‘’Y/N, you go with Max, Lucas and Erica to the real world Creel house,’’ Dustin continued to explain.
‘’Me? No! I’m staying with Eddie,’’ you protested, refusing to leave his side. Perhaps you were being selfish, but you fully assumed your selfishness. ‘’I’ve seen this film before and I didn't like the ending.’’
Getting separated is never a good idea.
‘’One of us gotta go with them,’’ Nancy explained. ‘’Me, Robin and Steve will be at the other Creel house, Eddie will be at the other trailer, which leaves you.’’
Your jaw tightened. Easy for you to say, you’re teaming with the guy you’re still in love with, you wanted to tell her but you bit your tongue. Right now was not the best timing to start an argument.
‘’I’m staying with Eddie,’’ Dustin announced. ‘’Someone’s gotta stay and help him when the bats get here.’’
Once Dustin fished explaining the plan, everyone got ready. You found army supplies in Wayne’s closet - vests, pants, and even a beret - from his old days in the army, along with weapons and bullets, which will be handy.
You traded your jeans for pants, having more movement possibilities in those, and tied your hair in a ponytail to get them out of the way. Your shirt was bloody and ruined, so you stole a black long sleeve from Eddie’s closet.
With the few emergency supplies in Eddie's bathroom, you were able to clean and bandage the bat bite on your shoulder. Same went for Steve.
You were just finished tightening your belt to its tightest to hold the camo pants when Eddie walked into his room, looking for you.
''Can you help me with that?'' he asked, coming to you with his bandana messily tied over his head.
You nodded and helped him tie it on his head, snug enough so it won’t fly off, but loose enough so it won’t put pressure on his head and give him a headache. Some shorter pieces of hair fell in his eyes, so you brushed them away. ‘’It’s unfair you look so handsome right before going to war.’’
A small chuckle left Eddie’s lips. ‘’You’re not bad yourself,’’ he flirted back, making you shake your head. ‘’How’s your shoulder?’’
‘’Not infected. We can tell Robin I don’t have rabies,’’ you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Eddie chuckled again. ‘’That’s a win.’’
‘’Eddie?’’ He hummed, flicking his eyes to you, taking in your face before leaving for battle. ‘’I…I’m scared,’’ you confessed, your voice cracking.
''Come here.'' You felt his arms pull you in an embrace and you melted against him, allowing the comfort of your boyfriend’s hold to alleviate your fears for a bit.
Your fingers clutched his shirt and you tucked your head under his chin, resting your head against his chest. He didn't smell like Eddie anymore, with all the dirt, sweat and lake water, but it brought you the same feeling.
He kissed the top of your head, then looked behind him, checking if there was anyone in earshots. ‘’Don’t tell the others, but I’m scared too,’’ he whispered, only for you to hear.
‘’I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go,’’ you begged with fearful eyes, terrified he won’t return.
Eddie’s heart clenched.
Leaving you wasn’t easier for him. He was leaving you with kids. No offense to Max, Lucas and Erica, but he didn’t trust you to be safe in their presence. You were the one sent to keep them - mostly Max - safe.
‘’We’ll see each other soon.’’ He gave you a lingering kiss, then uncurled your fingers from his shirt to kiss them. ‘’You have to trust me, okay? You have to trust me, sweetheart,’’ he said, looking right into your eyes.
‘’I do. You’re the person I trust the most, but I don't have a good feeling about this, Eddie. I feel like this is our final goodbyes-’’
‘’It’s not. Here.’’ He reached into his shirt by the collar and took off the chain around his neck. He slid one of his rings - your favorite - on it and clasped it around your neck. ‘’It’s like I’m with you, even when I’m not.’’
You looked down at the bulky ring dangling on your neck, the corner of your lips twitching. And they say metalheads are not romantic. They are, in their own ways. You tucked it safely inside your shirt.
-
Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3 @cursedandromedablack @Slashersimpfor @savagejane1 @wh0reforbucknasty @eddiemunson-slut @slvdsjjk @hehehehannahthings @dreamdancers-world @grace-loux @iamharrystyleslover
Eddie Munson taglist: @nighttwingg @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @heizenka @eddiemvunsongf @Eddie_munsons_girlfriend @magicalchocolatecheesecake @eddiemunsonistheloveofmylife @avril-reblog-cave @Fandomfaeryreads @harrys-tittie @paola-carter
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things s4#eddie stranger things
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Bestowed
Title: Bestowed
Fandom: Star Wars (AU)
Rating: M
Pairing: Kylo Ren x Undescribed.Reader
Word count: 1345
Warnings: kidnapping. sacrifice. assumed murder. stalking. magic.
Summary: Based on the scary story prompts from @darkpromptsyouneveraskedfor. Prompts include: 13) "I don't think of it as a curse, more a blessing." and 13) You wake up in the dark, on a slab of stone, with a pentagram drawn around you.
Notes: This is part of the Horror prompts series here.
You woke up slowly. And cold. That was the first thing you noticed. You tried to sit up but your arms don’t move the way you want them too. They’re bound together. The area is lit by candles and the fear that was growing in the pit of your stomach skyrockets to your throat. You’re on stone. It’s marked with something that you can't entirely make out in the flickering light, but it’s easy to trace the fact it goes around you. And under.
“Don’t move.” The voice was deep and you looked around, trying to figure out where it came from. “It’s alright.”
“Pretty sure this is as far from alright as it gets,” you snap back. You lift your hands up, trying to tear at the binding with your teeth. Anything to get you out of here. It takes a few minutes before you even realize that every rip you manage to make heals itself. The bindings look as unblemished as they were before you started. “What the fuck?”
“You won’t get out,” the voice tells you. “They won’t release for anyone but me.”
“Then let me out.”
A figure moves into the candlelight. He’s tall and broad-shouldered. You can make out dark hair, pale skin, and a prominent nose. “I can’t do that.”
Your throat tightens but you try to ignore the fear that’s building. “Why?”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. “For longer than you know.”
“Well, I’m not really into stalkers,” you try to be polite but firm and ignore the way your hands are shaking. “Next time, just ask a girl out for coffee, okay? Now can you untie me? My family is going to be looking for me.”
“Ah yes. The sisters.” He starts to circle you and it’s hard to twist and keep him in sight. “There are five of you now, correct? Two passed away. One at birth, one as a child.”
You clench your jaw tightly. It was a painful reminder of the siblings you lost. The ones who came before you and just…never made it. They didn’t even get a chance. “How do you know that?”
“I told you, I’ve been waiting for you. Public records and the internet do the rest if you know where to look.”
You shift, trying to throw your legs over the side of the platform you’re on. You need to get out of here. You need to go…as far away from here as possible.
“It has been increasingly difficult to find one like you. The seventh child of a seventh child.”
“My dad really wanted a boy,” you explain. It hadn’t happened but they tried. They stopped with you. It had been your mother’s demand. She couldn’t take anymore. “That doesn’t fucking mean anything.”
“It does.” He says it with complete assurance. “I have been waiting. Others have too. I won’t wait any longer.” He moves forward, shoving your legs back on the stone slab. “Don’t move. It’ll be less painful if you stay still.”
“For what? Being ritualistically sacrificed? I think I’ll pass.”
“It’s more than that. I am offering you something in return for what I will take. In fact, something you yourself are not able to access due to your heritage. Others would simply rend the power from you and discard the husk that was left no matter what it did to you. I call this a fair trade.”
“I don’t want it. I don’t want anything you’re going to curse me with.”
“I don’t think of it as a curse, more a blessing. Regardless, you do not have a choice.”
He says something you don’t understand and lightning shoots down your spine. It feels as though you’re being electrocuted. The flames on the candles grow and the heat in your stomach increases. You cry out, tears building in your eyes and falling as it feels as though the blood in your veins is boiling.
“Please! Stop!” you beg but his voice continues, echoing in your ears.
The fire increases, your head swims and all you can do is scream until you black out.
-
The next time you wake up, it's on something soft.
Everything hurts. Your muscles keep twitching but you don’t feel like you can move. At least until one of your feet and calves cramp up. You can’t stop the tears or shooting up to sit, reaching for your leg. You don’t get the chance to. Someone touches you, fingers digging into the sore muscle. You swear but as the pain releases, you can’t help but fall back, exhausted again.
You stare at the ceiling, ignoring the hands that continue to ease the cramping muscles. “What did you do to me?”
“An exchange. Your lifespan is now tied to mine in exchange for access to the power you cannot reach for yourself.”
“What?” You force yourself to sit up, ignoring the pain. “What are you talking about?” you demand again when he doesn’t answer.
“You have always been beyond…mortal. Now you are more.”
“I don’t want to be!”
“There was no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
You slap him without thinking. Your head whips to the side, cheek stinging. He hasn’t moved but you feel as though you’ve hit yourself. You stare at your hand in shock, wondering what happened.
He gets up and you think you see a red mark where you know you hit him. As soon as his back is turned, you let yourself wince and mouth out an “ow”.
“Here. Eat.” A plate is thrust into your vision. There is a small selection of fruits and granola bars.
“Uh…thanks?”
He nods and sits back down where he was before. He waits until you pick at one of the orange slices. “You’re an attractive target for those seeking to increase their power.”
“...” You stare at him for a moment. “How is that possible? I’ve never done anything.”
“You don’t need to. Power crosses from father to daughter or mother to son. It is inaccessible to the offspring, but not to one like me.”
You frown slightly. “What does that even mean?”
“But you cannot take something for nothing,” he continues as though you haven’t spoken. “There is always a price. I gave as much as I thought I would receive.” He leans forward. His hand touches the growing bruise on his cheek. You can see it fade, and as it does, sparks tingle under the skin of yours. His eyes bore into yours.
“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say any of this before kidnapping me?”
“Would you believe me?”
“That doesn’t matter!”
“You want the truth?” He waits until you nod. “After scrying for you, I…got sloppy with the search and I had to deal with two others who were on your trail. My home is warded for intruders and the ritual was done quickly. Neither of us is in danger anymore. You won’t be a target unless they kill me too.”
“That doesn’t solve everything,” you say, wondering if he’s going to ignore the kidnapping.
“It does,” he nods. He pulls back slightly and reaches for something. You watch as he lifts a small bowl filled with a dark red liquid. He sets it down on the edge of the bed before reaching and grasping one of your wrists. You try to yank your hand back but his grip is firm. He dips his finger into the liquid and brings it to her skin. You watch as he draws a sigil. “This is where the magic pools.” He repeats the action with more symbols on your other wrist and neck. The marks burn slightly and your protests at the action fade as you realizes that the pain in your body is gone. Your psoriasis is even gone.
“Holy–”
He leans forward, blowing on the mark on her wrist. They light up, glowing red.
Your breath hitches as the sensation. You glance up, meeting his dark eyes as he watches your reaction. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. “What’s your name?”
“Kylo. You can call me Kylo.”
taglist: @raith-way @zeleniafic @jvstjewels @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @kingsmakers @far-shores
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Hello Franky!
Can I please ask Sabo or Law with prompts L (yandere if possible) or 9 (fluff)?
Thank you so much!!!
My first truly horror themed one and I am exicted.
Sabo x GN Reader
Modern AU
HORROR THEMES - YANDERE THEMES
SFW
Word Count: 1,260
The rain beat down on your little car, the constant rippling dots that bombarded your windscreen, the rate the sky was attacking you caused your windscreen wipers to struggle, you could barely see anything as you drove down the country road. Your wheels hit each and every bump along the track, the car shaking and rumbling over poorly surfaced roads.
Your radio, the only reprieve from how horrible the night was crackled and spluttered, and as you averted your eyes from the window towards your radio you felt one nasty bump in particular, even with your seat belt fastened you lurched off the seat and let out a pained cry.
That was when your car told you it had, had enough, and spluttered to a grinding halt. Your breath left you, ragged and heavy as you slammed your hands on the horn letting out a loud disgruntled shout to match the noise that penetrated the rainy world outside.
You already knew what the answer would be as you picked up your phone and it was showing as no signal. You laughed, the sound was hollow as you once again stared out the window, nothing but trees on either side of the grubby road, your lights casting an eerie glow.
At least it was some comfort out here in the dark country lane. The issue was more than likely something to do with the tire but you weren’t ready to brace the hardship of going out into cold, wet stormy darkness.
“Fuuuuck, what the hell was that?” You jumped and spun around seeing Sabo, you almost forgot about him taking a nap in the backseat.
“I think I hit a pothole too hard and the wheels fucked.” You explained and unfastened your seatbelt to swivel around and face him.
“So, are you saying we are stuck out here in the middle of nowhere?” He asked and shifted in his seat, sitting between the two front seats, leaning in and watching you, you saw something in his eyes, was that a smirk tugging the corner of his lips?
No, it was dark, don’t be crazy you told yourself. You weren’t excited to be stuck in a car with your boyfriend, after this trip you were going to break up with him and this little issue was going to delay your progress in getting away.
“Does anyone know we are on the way back?” He asked as he leaned even closer to you, his hand on your shoulder, digging his thumb into you as he tried to hide it as a ‘calming’ gesture but you twitched.
“Ace? You sent a message to him right?” You asked and he hummed, nodding a little and suddenly you wished you’d fired off a message to your friend about it.
The cold world outside with the lashing rain and the winds that swotted at the mighty walls of trees on either side of your car seemed warmer and more welcoming than being sat in here with him. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you pulled away from Sabo.
“So I’m going out to see if I can fix it” You announced as you grabbed your coat from the passenger seat and started to awkwardly shimmy into it while sitting in place.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to do that?” His voice seemed so flat, his eyes focused on your every movement, his lips set to a firm line as you stuffed your phone into your pocket and opened the door.
The rain beating on the hood louder now, hearing the clanking of droplets against metal and you plastered the best fake smile on your face and shrugged. “Nah, it’s alright, maybe nap again? I should be able to get it sorted myself.”
Before he could comment you were out the door, all but slamming it in his face as you tried to steady yourself on the side of the car, your feet slipping and sliding in the mud, you hissed and crouched down to look at the wheel, the flash from your phone your only guide. The tire was fucked, it must have hit the hole, just like you assumed.
Another sigh, not enjoying how the angry weather beat at you. Rain soaking into your jeans, your feet somehow finding very puddle and soaking your feet. You stood up and made your way around the car, popping open the trunk and peering in.
You leaned into the dryness and looked at your phone, one single bar of signal and you felt relife wash over you, almost enough to drown out the anxious gnawing at your gut. You quickly opened up messages, typing as fast as you could with wet fingers, sliding across your screen as you tried to press send.
“Need help?” You felt Sabo right behind you, feeling his arms on either side of you, boxing you in, making you drop your phone into the trunk, the light flashing in your face and it was enough to see the smirk on Sabo’s face.
He leaned in, never breaking eye contact as he grabbed your phone and read the message, you hadn’t managed to press send but the message was clear as day sitting there on your screen and he clicked his tongue before he tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.
“I’m very glad you came on this trip with me,” Sabo said as he pressed against you, forcing you to feel the burn and pinch of the edge of the trunk against your legs. “I saw those messages you sent, about wanting to break up with me and well, it upset me a little.”
“Sabo! What the Fuck? I.. can we talk about this when we get back?” You asked and grimaced as he pressed even harder. You wanted to be livid about your phone, but fear was gripping you harder and tighter around your heart then the anger that tried to pulse through you.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He shrugged and let you up, you let out a sigh of relief as you had breathing space.
You eyed your phone that sat half submerged in a muddy puddle and knew there was no way you were going to save that, you briefly mourned the loss of memories on the device before you watched Sabo take the spare from the trunk.
He held the wrench in his hand, gripping it and staring out at the darkness, listening to the rain pitter-patter and the sounds in his mind, the gripping fear of losing you. You were about to step away and sit in the car when you felt the sharp stinging pain in the back of your head.
Darkness, far darker than the lonely woods that stretched for miles. He picked you up and tossed you into the trunk. He sighed and dug into his pockets, pulling out gloves that he put on, flexing his hands, and feeling how the leather felt against his skin before he dragged a metal box from the back of the trunk and flipped it open.
“I wish you hadn’t been so ungrateful, willing to throw away everything we had together, now I have to do something drastic.” He said to himself, you out cold with blood seeping from the wound he’d caused. “I gotta make sure you never leave…”
The rain poured, the wind howled, the tree’s swayed and a scream pierced the night.
#yandere#yandere sabo#yandere sabo x reader#horror themes#horror story#yandere one piece#one piece yandere#sabo one piece x reader#sabo x reader#sabo x reader insert#sabo x y/n#sabo x you#sfw#one piece x reader#one piece reader insert#one piece x you#gender neutral reader
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hiii uh first of all can I be 🫧 anon? I feel like i might come here a lot just to talk or request so sorry from future me 😭
Okok! So like me thinks the members handling an insecure reader? I don’t know if you’ve already done that but recently because of a lot of things and my period i’ve been kind of depressed and feeling like i’m not good enough for anyone and that i’m ugly, so maybe like comfort from txt ?? If you don’t wanna do the whole group than I would really like if you did Huening Kai! Thank you so much! ( ＾◡＾)っ❤
- 🫧 Anon
hi lovely!!! yes!!! so sorry this took a while to get around but i wanted to finish up the mini fics first and i didn't want to answer this ask just yet bc i was saving it to answer with the written blurb! with requests like these i'd prefer to have it with just one member (as the ones with all members take much longer and i'd want to get them out quickly when people requests something!). it's long overdue but i do hope it offers you comfort of any sort and that you're feeling better!
[🐧] embrace
✿ pairing: kai x reader / non.idol!au / small mention of food / word count: 838 words
✿ when some days get a bit too difficult, kai's here to carry them with you
[masterlist 🌸]
as playful huening kai was known to be, he was still the lovable sweetheart that knew when the days got difficult for you. it's like he feels it in his bones, in his nerves, in the way you breathe and exists around him, it's like he has the fine print on the back of his hand that lets him know you're not feeling the best.
kai struggles with words sometimes, finding that it's so difficult to get everything out that he wants to say in his mind in fear he'd be too emotional to get his point across. so what does he do? well... for starters, you return to the hints of jasmine and honey wafting in the air. the dim glow of light on the hallway is what lures you in to put your bag down, ditching your coat, locking the door and your curiosity gets the best of you.
as you reach the bedroom, you spot a familiar looking figure hunched over the bed. creaking the door to a push, lightly ajar, the sound makes the shoulders of–"kai?"
with jumped shoulders, he looks over his shoulder with wide eyes. a small 'o' forming on his mouth and when he stands, you're able to peek at the plushie on the center of the bed. while you're surprised, there's something deep inside you that allows you to show the genuine gratitude you feel at the inkling that he might've caught on with the way you've been–"ah, i didn't know you'd be back so soon,"
you swallow and fiddle with your fingers, but kai's gently smoothening his fingers between yours to hold.
"i guess you're just in time to head for the bath first," he easily shakes your hands away so he can grip onto one of them, tugging you to follow his lead to the bathroom. just as he walks around you and assumes you'd follow, the way you remain put is what gets him to turn around to see that you remain unmoving.
"what're you doing?" your voice is soft, and while kai wanted to avoid... exactly this. (for now, at least, he thinks he'll be able to explain later but... well, might as well get on with it...)
"trying to take care of you," he answers as a matter of fact, now returning to stand in front of you with a small smile. he hates how you gaze down to your hand in his and the way he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb as if he's gently caressing your heart does nothing to hold back your soft, cracked why?
he gapes. it's like you don't know. or you don't believe his intentions. and he knows it's not that he didn't try hard enough but it just... it just feels like stress might've gotten to you lately. the insecurities that swift by every now and then that swims in your consciousness... kai knows that well. and he hates that he can't make them go away indefinitely.
but every time you feel that way, he's prepared to combat them. (some days more aggressive than others, he'll admit)
"because i love you," he doesn't hesitate in saying with his full chest, yet, in a tone that is delicate as it tugs on your heartstrings. he keeps hold of one of your hands, the other now reaching up to pillow against your cheek, "and knowing, feeling that you might've been feeling low these few days, i wanted to try to make you feel better."
he lifts your chin up with the hold he has on the side of your face, aligning your gaze until he sees how your gaze softens. from a guarded, stonecold expression earlier, it's melted down your defenses until you're left vulnerable in front of him. he knows there's a 'why' hanging on the tip of your tongue and he's quick to answer before you have the chance to ask.
"and seeing you sad, makes me sad. so we can't have that, now, can we?"
he watches as you swallow, shaking your head after. he chuckles and nods, "good. now, bath first. food later."
when he tries to make you follow him and you don't again, he huffs and turns around with a frown, "c'mon now, just let me–"he stops talking when you shake his hand off so you can spread your arms out. the plea lining your eyes, the begging to be held. it's like that was all you needed. that was all you wanted. and it hits him harder than it should've when his heart drops at the sight. oh, huening kai, you fucking idiot–he strides up to you and puts his arms around you, pulling you close to his embrace.
the bath... the food... it can all wait. for now, this was all you wanted. with the way you release the heavy breath held in your chest, arms squeezing kai's waist and burying your face to his neck, kai knows the longer he holds you, the lighter you already feel.
#qqtxt: anons#qqtxt: 🫧 anon#txt huening kai#huening kai scenarios#huening kai x you#huening kai#huening kai txt#hueningkai x reader#huening txt#hueningkai#txt stories#txt x you#txt imagines#txt x reader#txt scenarios#txt reactions
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A non English speaking reader instead of Korean is totally okay! Yeah I just meant rick is aggressive with reader but daryl calms him down when he sees reader is scared and not trying to hurt anyone, and then daryl is soft with reader. I love everything you write so however you wanna write this is cool, I'll love it either way <3
I really do like this request because it truly gives me, as a writer, the opportunity to step back and write something- a connection between two characters- without using language. Super cool!
I hope this is everything you wished it could be! Thank you for your support and understanding ❤️
You never really realize how alone you are in an unfamiliar terrain until all of your family and friends are suddenly gone, vanished or evolved into the monsters walking among us.
I was always quite the loner though my mother never wanted me to be. She wanted me to be out there in the world, getting on the Deans list, the honors lists, anything that would make me stand out and make her feel proud that my success was ultimately her responsibility.
But that need to venture out on my own and to keep my head down, to do the opposite of what my family wanted of me, it stuck after the first Emergency Broadcast signal went out, echoing in my small car as I was driving home from work that night.
The cars lined the highways, people were trying to escape and I always assumed, though I wasn't able to say goodbye to them, that my family got out and were cooped up somewhere safe where they could live the rest of their lives.
I never ended up finding out what had happened to them.
I've stumbled across people in my time alone, bouncing along from group to group. But it was difficult when there were little to no people who spoke my language, constantly creating a conflict in communication with me and explaining my lonesome situation.
The language barrier, in a big group like that, ultimately would lead me to being the weak one and I believed it would eventually be left behind. So I always left before they could leave first, I figured it was the safest thing for me.
But now, looking up at the man above me as he points his revolver in my face, I can't help but think I could've avoided this if I would've just stayed with one of the many groups I've abandoned.
I watch as the group yells to each other, arguing over my presence as hateful words and furrowed brows pass through every expression of those around me. The man above me does not hesitate, he just continues to stare at me, ignoring the man behind him, tugging on his shoulder.
I gasp, clutching my hand to my chest that I previously landed on, a crack resounding around us at the hard landing. Tears fill my eyes as my lips part, shaking my head as the red-faced man asks me angry questions, cocking his gun after I don't answer after a few moments.
"No English." I gasp, finally forming the words as the man's face falls, turning to the kinder looking man behind him with a confused look. I look to the women above me, their eyes sorry as one of them sends me a soft, sad smile.
The man with the longer hand places a hand on the angry mans chest, forcing him back and away from me and he looks down at me with a soft smile. Kneeling down in front of me, he looks a bit awkward as he holds a hand out to me but my brows just furrow. He points to his wrist and then to mine and realization wafts over me and I realize he's talking about my injured arm. I nod hesitantly, still cautious of the rest of them around us who are whispering under their breath and giving me careful looks.
The kinder man in front of me takes my arm in his hand gently, examining the bruised tissue. He clicks his tongue and turns to the tall pretty woman behind him that he refers to as 'Sasha' and he asks for something, holding his free hand out to him.
She rustles through her bag for a few moments until she finds what she's looking for, handing a roll of medical wrap to him. He turns to me again and holds it up in the air before pointing to my wrist. I nod, giving him silent permission as he works on wrapping my wrist and forearm tightly, small, painful hisses leaving me every once in a while.
When he's done, I told my arm to my chest once more and shift in my spot so my legs are curled up beneath me. My eyes flicker back and forth between the mans kind eyes and he signs, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before pointing to himself.
"Daryl." He smiles and holds a hand out to me to shake, introducing himself in a much kinder way than his friend did just minutes ago. I take his hand in mine, shaking it politely before finding my voice once more.
"Y/n."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi
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31 - Raelyn Let Loose
Part 32
Gemini Runaway
Tag list ask to be added @dragonixfrye @secretdreamlandmentality
Walking through the woods at a lake house ground I could hear everything around me. It had been a few days since everyone in the town I cared about had to get up in arms about me turning my humanity off. Shoving some Cheetos in my mouth it was hard carrying one baby let alone three. My phone rang where I saw it was Rebekah. “Why are you dodging my phone calls?”
“You know the answer to that. Because you betrayed me and oh yeah I don’t give a crap.” I snapped back at my blonde original friend.
She sighed through the phone, turning on the video call so we could see each other. “Realyn, I’m sorry about the intervention the other day but we are just concerned about you. You aren’t meant to be a monster like we have been.”
“I already became one the night I killed Jacob. The only difference now is that I don’t have to feel all the guilt that came with it. Hey, would you be able to find me any cute outfits for my pregnant belly when I become fat as a balloon. Because your brother's shirts are starting to become tight.” I responded to her shaking the bag in front of the camera.
“Look, we can go on a shopping spree if you will just turn your humanity back on. I miss seeing you and the miracle babies deserve to know their auntie Bex.” She spoke to me, throwing her hair in front of her eyes.
Rolling my eyes at her someone vamped behind me making me glance over my shoulder seeing the hybrid. “Rebekah, I've gotta call you back. Your brother is here to be a pain in my ass. What do you want, Nik?” Placing my phone in my back pocket I glared at him.
“When I let you go the other day I didn’t expect you to come out here for food. I would have assumed you head back to New Orleans seeing that vampires rule the city.” He pointed out to me slowly walking forward.
Whipping fully around to face him I stomped up until we saw the other's face still glaring at him intensely. “I figured you would look there so I went somewhere I didn’t think you would be here, so why the hell are you following me, traitor?”
“I’m not following you out of concern if that is what you are asking. And I wish that you wouldn’t look at me like I betrayed your trust. You lied to me too by not telling me you flipped the switch.” He responded back at me reaching up with his hand to touch my cheek.
Snatching his wrist in mine I pushed his hand down. “Tell me why you are really here now or I’ll snap your neck!”
“I am here to see if Jeremey Gilbert has killed anyone vampires. He needs to grow his mark to find the cure. So when he does I can destroy it so it’s not used on me.” He explained.
Knitting my brows at him. “Cure to what. What exactly don’t I know?”
“The cure to vampirism, Raelyn.” He spoke back at me simply.
Snapping off at him I didn’t like that now since I was a vampire he was keeping things from me. I thought if anything our lives would be easier when I turned but that doesn’t seem to be the case. “And why am I just now hearing about this supposed cure. Are you just a complete liar now since I am a vampire?”
“You were passed out in transition when all of this started coming to the surface.” Klaus slumped his shoulders running his fingers through his messy curls. “I was so terrified that I didn’t feed you my blood in enough time. Wherever you were before you came back. I’ve never been there so I don’t know. You just need to tell Raelyn that I haven’t lied to you.”
Crossing my arms over my chest I huffed taking a few steps away from him. “Are you going to use the cure on me if they manage to get it?”
“No. Never a chance in hell. I have seen inside your mind sweetheart. I don’t wish for you to be so afraid of living every day. But I do wish that you would come back to me. Being a vampire without your humanity won’t be good when the babies are born. If you won’t do it for me, do it for them.” He raised his hands like I had offended him so how which took me by surprise.
Tapping my boot on the ground I reached for my phone heading in the direction of the lake house dialing Rebekah back. "I'll think about it but I need blood and I'm gonna call Rebekah and find out what's going on with this cure? Hey Bex, care to fill me in on this whole cure thing."
"Raelyn, of course darling. I actually have the whole gang here with me so you just have to watch." She turns on the video call again showing me that she was in a library holding Stefan, Elena, Caroline and a girl I didn't know. "You've all been compelled. You know the rules. Answer my questions honestly, no disobedience, no one leaves. April, my sweet, take notes. This is how you get answers in this town. Let's start with a little quiz. In the year 1114, my brother learned... thanks to yours truly... About a brotherhood of vampire hunters with tattoos that grew with each kill. And these tattoos reveal what? Elena?"
Elena replied. "A map."
Rebekah turns towards the other blonde. "Which led to, Caroline?"
Caroline has her arms crossed over her chest. "A cure for vampirism."
"Perfect. We're all caught up. Stefan Salvatore, the last time we saw each other, you had a vampire hunter, but in order to decode the map, you needed the location of the hunter's sword, which you got out of me using some very dirty tricks assuming you found the sword, you must have found the cure, and yet you're all still vampires, which means something went wrong." I noticed the April girl writing making her pause. "What are you doing?'
April said, sitting her pencil down. "You asked me to take notes."
"I wasn't being literal, darling. But now that you mention it, a flow chart would be nice, which means index cards and push pins. Go fetch." Bex sent her away.
Stefan grumbled under his breath. "You're wasting your time. We don't know anything."
Rebekah flipped her hair over her shoulders. "So you just gave up? I thought you'd do anything to save Elena, even if it meant taking the cure yourself so you could grow old and die with her. Why do you look so surprised? I'm missing something. What is it?"
Caroline threw her hands. "They broke up, okay? Now let us go."
Rebekah made a face and I rested my chin in the palm of my hand. "Wait. I'm confused. I thought Elena was your epic love, Stefan. I asked you what happened, and you have to tell me."
Stefan muttered. "She slept with Damon."
"Oh dang and here I thought I was the only girl who liked the bad boys. Hey, I gotta go." Turning my head I watched Klaus walking back in the direction of Damon sitting in front of a burning fire until I called his name. "Nik!"
"So you're talking to me now hmm. What do you need, love?" He asked me to shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
Rising to my feet I put my hands behind my back walking up to him smirking. "The real question is what can I do for you. Since Bex just told me Jeremy has to kill vampires and I am rather hungry. Aren't I right that there's a bar down the road?"
"Come with me, Rae." He whispered, leading me to the fire.
Damon said, feeling us standing there. "If you're here for payback, go for it. But you'll be stuck baby-sitting the little hunter that could."
Klaus sat down pointing to the knife he was cutting a stick with. "You know... If you adjust your angle a little bit, you'll find a sharper edge."
Damon made a face. "I know how to whittle. Thanks. Now I know why those hybrids hated you. You are annoying."
"Not as annoying as you can be according to Caroline." I teased him.
Klaus shrugged his shoulders. "Actually, I'm just perplexed as to why Jeremy hasn't killed any vampires."
"Darwinism, Klaus. He needs to be able to protect himself before we hunt down his first vampire nest." The raven haired vampire said.
Leaning my back against one of the trees I shook my head seeing Klaus glancing back at me before focusing on him. “And here was I, thinking you were the fun brother. Well, let's play a little game, shall we? Jeremy needs more victims, and there's a whole town of people down the road just waiting to be turned into vampires for the slaughter.”
Damon asked, moving his knife not meeting his gaze. “You don't think that occurred to me, Klaus?”
“The tragedy is, Damon, it did occur to you, yet you chose to ignore it. And my guess is you did it to impress Elena. Somehow, to honor her, you'll find a way to spare innocent lives and walk Jeremy down the moral high road.” Klaus turned around staring at me waving me over.” Raising a brow at him leaning down where he leaned his head into my ear taking my fingers where he traced my fingers against his neck sending me a hidden message meaning to go find the bar and wait for him. “That's why I've already made the necessary corrections.”
Damon questions him before Klaus vamps away, not answering him, finding me waiting outside the bag for him since I had vamped away before he could notice that I was gone.” What did you do?”
Klaus pushed the door open for me to see a whole bar filled with people and I could hear all their hearts ringing in my ear. “Why bring me here if you know I will drain them dry?”
“Because I have already fed them my blood. So when you kill them…” He trailed off with a smirk on his face watching my reaction.
Wrapping my arms around his neck I kissed him for the first since I had turned into a hybrid. “They will be in transition to be vampires. You are brilliant and so hot right now. I’d say I always had a thing for the bad boys.”
“I knew that about you before you turned, Raelyn. Now before the boys get here I suggest that we start this little show. Ladies first.” He gestured with his hands out in front of him before I vamped forward onto a guys back sinking my fangs into his neck draining him quickly.
Grabbing two girls by their necks I held them down drinking from one after the others throwing my hair around in a mess. It all became too much for me to not just see blood everywhere where I started vamping around like a madwoman. Klaus the whole time was just standing by the bar watching both turned on and sick to his stomach by how much his former witch was enjoying herself. He never imagined this fate for his love. Losing her twin brother took more of a toll on her then he was ever capable of understanding.
Ripping my fangs into half of their necks I pulled back letting blood drip down my chin. He reached up, taking some off of me moving his other hand to my neck. I watched his eyes flash gold nuzzling his nose into my neck whispering. "I want you to know that it pains me to see you like this. I want nothing more than to find pleasure seeing you like this. But my heart can’t allow that in.”
“You only feel horrible because you have your humanity on. So why not just turn it off with me huh. We’ve got time before these babies come out of my belly. So turn it off with me, together forever." I smirked before he hooked my legs around my waist, vamping me against the wall kissing me hungrily. Everything felt right, his hands and lips on mine. Blood mixing together where he started kissing my neck slowly. I gasped, gripping his locks in my fingers, throwing my head back.
The bar door opened and the three others entered before he ever gave me an answer where we sat down back at the bar clinking our glasses of blood together. “I was beginning to worry you boys wouldn't find the place.”
Jeremy gasped. “What the hell…?”
Matt sounded frightened and I could hear his heartbeat faster. “Did you kill all these people?”
Klaus explained downing his drink and getting some alcohol in his next glass since I couldn’t have any being pregnant. “Not exactly. They're in transition. killing them is your job.”
Jeremy looks at Damon. "You said you were going to convince Klaus to do this another way."
"I thought about it. And then I realized his idea was better." Damon responded looking over at Nik and I as he smirked, raising a shot glass in his hand.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
#gemini runaway#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus mikaelson x reader fanfiction#klaus mikaelson x heretic reader#klaus mikaelson x oc#klaus mikaelson fic#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson x witch reader#joseph morgan#oc : raelyn lane#indiana evans#caroline forbes#rebekah mikaelson#elena gilbert#stefan salvatore#damon salvatore#jeremy gilbert#matt donovan#tvd fic#tvd fanfiction#tvd fandom#tvdu#tvd#tvd universe#siphon witch#tvd siphon#wattpad fanfiction#ask box is open for feedback#comments really appreciated#klaus mikaelson x you
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you know I feel like you're the only person i have ever seen who likes Aizawa but actively dislikes Shinsou, cause if someone likes Aizawa you always assume it's a given that yes they must also like Shinsou because they both have so many charcter traits that they're basically Dr Evil and Mini-Me, they're both insomniacs, they're both assholes, they both have non offensive quirks that are incredibly overpowered given the circumstance, they're both arrogant and they have the same mindset of how heroing goes on hating the flashy heroes who are literally keeping society stable and thinking haha yes underground the best
Sorry, this took so long! I’ve been busy with a lot. ^^; Anyway, I’m going to use this to address some stuff that’s been on my mind.
Any! Long-ish post below. Oh, and this was written in a rush as I’m busy during this time, so forgive any grammar mistakes, repeats, and inconsistencies.
Oh, and if you feel I made a mistake anywhere, please be polite in your corrections.
Notes:
*A bit of Shinsou-Critical which may come off as anti-Shinsou (it’s not, but some people are sensitive.)
*Small bits of Aizawa Defense
*Spoilers for Vigilantes and the Main Series
*Bakagou critical (Yeah, somehow he slipped in.)
*Take it with a grain of salt
*Bad language
*images
*Again, very hurried so not as detailed as I would like
Basically, this is just me explaining why Shinsou doesn’t appeal to me. I’m not trashing Shinsou or anyone that likes him, these are just my thoughts. The gist is that he’s not a bad flavor, just not one I care for.
I’ll go into another post about why I love canon Aizawa later when I have the time, but this one is about my issues with Shinsou currently.
Before we dive in, a few things I think you might have misunderstood;
1: Neither are insomniacs. Insomnia means you have trouble falling asleep, staying asleep, or getting good-quality sleep, but that’s not the case here.
Aizawa has zero issues falling asleep. In fact, if SB is canon he can do so very well and instantly. In the same chapter, he was able to stay asleep despite Mic shaking him. He only woke up when his boss came in. The only reason he doesn’t get “quality sleep” is that he’s always working, either as a hero or as a teacher. He only sleeps out of necessity as his eyes need to rest work (along with the rest of him).
Shinsou just has bags under his eyes which could just be from iron deficiency. (I have permanent bags under my eyes and I have a decent sleep schedule.) We have never seen anything to hint that he can’t sleep or is even tired.
2: I think any quirk can be overpowered depending on circumstances but whatever.
3: I disagree. Shinsou is definitely arrogant in his own way, but Aizawa isn’t. He comes off as being so at times but is more than willing to humble himself. One of the reasons that I like Aizawa so much is that he is more than willing to admit his mistakes and flaws and then works on his own to overcome them. Aizawa has even admitted that he admires people like All Might a few times. Speaking of which;
4: Aizawa doesn’t hate flashy heroes, nor has he once stated that being an underground hero is better. He respects All Might as a hero he just doesn’t agree with his teaching methods. At most he doesn’t understand the idea of needing to bother with interviews and such, but not seeing eye to eye and looking down are two different things.
5: Never once has he stated that being underground is better.
6: When he insults people with flashy quirks, he’s not insulting the quirk, but the person. All he’s ever said on the subject was that UA’s entrance exam was unfair, which EVERYONE online has agreed with.
And Shinsou doesn’t look down on flashy quirks. HIS quirk is flashy. The only issue is that it’s non-combative and it’s associated with villains. Shinsou’s only bitter that it’s non-combative and tries to tear others down because of his insecurities. That’s not looking down, it’s being jealous. If you want to see how it looks to look down on non-flashy quirks, look to Bakagou who looked down on everyone except Todoroki.
Okay with all that out of the way, let’s get to why we’re here; I like Aizawa and not Shinsou for a few reasons.
First, is that Aizawa, even when he was disadvantaged, never blamed the world for his weaknesses or shortcomings.
He actively worked hard and trained, even before Oboro died. He knew he had weaknesses and while he would bemoan them, Aizawa always did his best to improve. (Actually, Aizawa is a lot more like Tamaki than Shinsou, in that respect, but I digress.) Again, Aizawa trained himself AND he got himself a weapon that worked six years to master.
Shinsou is willing to humble himself later in the manga, however, he did very little on his own. He wanted to get into UA, so submitted a form to general studies and waited for the sports festival. That’s it. He didn’t train, he didn’t study combat or anything to overcome a weakness the entrance exams would have made very clear to him. And even at the sports festival, he relied on the strength of others to get him through it, then complained that the world was against him (we’ll get to that).
That’s not a failing as Izuku was the same before he met All Might. I’m not saying that it’s a flaw that Shinsou did nothing himself.
However, I am saying this is a point for why I like Aizawa over him as I like people who recognize their weaknesses and try to overcome them. He has low self-esteem but he tries. When he was a teen he saw that he had a disadvantage in combat and became a decent brawler and even taught himself to use a very complicated weapon. He saw a flaw in himself and works to overcome it (except for the smiling thing, but oh well).
The next Aizawa never tries to tear people down to make himself look better. He doesn’t actively look to cause a fight or hurt others.
Aizawa was kind even to people who tried to tear him down. (I’m not calling Laser eyes a bully as there’s a big difference between being a bully and being a jerk.) Even after laser eyes insults him and calls him useless--
--Aizawa acts like the bigger person and extends his hand twice by letting him keep the sunglasses he liked--
and then by offering advice on how he could improve.
At first, Shinsou reminded me of Bakagou, in that he looked down on everyone around him. (Again, he got better later on, but for nearly a hundred chapters this was my main impression of him.) True, he didn't insult them, but it came off that he was looking down on them as he had people carry him like slaves.
(Here, he may be thanking them, but that smirk makes it clear it's not sincere.)
Yes, Aizawa’s rude as well and can come off as a jerk but that’s because he’s blunt. He’s not purposely being an ass to stomp over others. And on the occasions, he is an “asshole” it’s with the intent of helping others (or in the case of Hizashi, playful fun).
The worst thing he does is put a black mark of expulsion on student records and yes. It is VERY extreme but at the same time, we’re kinda forgetting something. See, here’s the thing;
Aizawa is training these kids to fight villains.
They can’t afford to fool around as one single mistake can and will cost lives, either theirs or others. The black mark makes it clear that they’ve got no choice but to improve. And Aizawa doesn’t throw them to the wolves. He does what he can to help them become better (when plot armor doesn’t get in the way). Hell, he remained loyal to the traitor despite that latter setting up Class 1-A to get killed twice. It’s very clear that the expulsion and the black marks are scare tactics. We have seen any evidence of his actions ruining anyone’s life. In fact, we see that the scare tactic actually worked a few times.
In chapter 6 we see that scaring Izuku with the thought of expulsion forced him to figure out how to use his quirk without wrecking his entire body at once like he did the first time using his quirk. And even then, Aizawa wasn’t an ass for the sake of bullying his student like Snape would. He explained to Midoriya why what he was doing was stupid and why that wouldn’t fly in the future.
“But threatened to expel Izuku for not controlling a quirk he only had for two months!” Aizawa was locked out of the loop and didn’t know that. As far as he knew, Izuku had his quirk his whole life.
Everyone likes to point out that because of the law there’s no way to properly train quirks but students like Bakagou, Todoroki, and Ochako have full control of their quirks along with the rest of the students. Later in the series—in Tamaki’s flashback—we see that students do get training for their training. Further evidence is that we’ve never seen one person in the world not know how to properly use their quirk. (Morally is another story.) Therefore, from his POV, there was no excuse that Izuku shouldn’t have control either.
Moving on, all of that was to show that his most jackass actions are not for the sake of being an asshole, it’s actually to help. And you know what? The expel threat and the black marks do help.
It made the rest of the students of Class-A put their best foot forward on the quirk assessment so he could see where everyone’s starting point is. Then there’s a scene where a student states that it scared his previous class into doing better and helped them to grow. So, again, while it’s extreme, we’ve seen that it works.
The bottom line, when Aizawa is an asshole, it’s with the intent to help others. When Shinsou does it, it’s to help himself.
And I do understand that Shinsou does this because a) that’s the best way to use his quirk and b) he has severe low self-esteem in himself.
He truly seems to believe that everyone thinks of him as a villain because of his quirk. (They don’t. They just don’t like it when he uses their quirk on them, something Shinsou very much enjoys doing.)
And I do sympathize with him on that, believe it or not, but that doesn’t mean I like his attitude. Maybe if he was called out and forced to grow out of this I would be more endeared but still.
But to be fair, we do see him act better after the sports festival as he is grateful to work with the others. He’s even mostly polite. Shinsou even admits that he does want to help others and we see that when he helps Izuku, who has lost control of his quirk.
We also see that Aizawa cares for his students and fellow teachers. We see him make friends with former criminals.
We only get a glimpse of this with Shinsou in School briefs, which I’m not sure how much to take as canon as it’s written by Anri Yoshi and not Kohei Horikoshi, but let’s assume it has the Star Wars canon logic (before Disney got a hold of it) and say that it’s canon because it got his stamp of approval.
In School Briefs, Shinsou is kind, thoughtful, and considerate towards his classmates. He even admits guilt for the effect his actions had on Ojiro, whom he brainwashed without consent.
What annoys me about him though, is his writing.
He is always going on and on about how everyone looks down on him and his quirk but we see the opposite.
Shinsou is overly praised for everything he does and no one has ever said anything bad about him or his quirk. They’ve only said that the quirk is usually associated with villains and not to use it on them. Oh, and that Shinsou could force people to do things for him. It’s thoughtless and insensitive but no malice was intended.
And I’ll throw him a bone and say that Shinsou internalized these comments to the point where he cannot believe people’s compliments. It’s still annoying.
To me, it’s like a woman bemoaning she’s ugly when she looks like a model and has everyone telling her, “Wow! You’re gorgeous.”
And you know what? From a storytelling point, it’s a waste! Shinsou could have been used to explore how people can be prejudiced against quirks. And it’s really simple to do this;
1: At the sports festival have some of the heroes make comments about how questionable his quirk is.
2: In his flashbacks actually have people say bad things about him and call him a villain, or have him overhear conversations.
3: Or—if you want to have an arc where Shinsou just internalized ill-thought words—have him come to realize that he was mistaken.
It really was that easy for the bare minimum. As is, we just have Shinsou’s perception which, when you look at the evidence, shows that he’s wrong about what people think.
He could also be shown struggling with the moral implications of his quirk; true it’s cool and powerful, but it involves taking away someone’s free will and at times affects their memory. Even if he doesn’t see it as a big deal, others obviously do. Why not explore it? See how he handles this, how he comes to terms? Maybe use it to develop Ojiro as well, as he was the one most affected by Shinsou. Have them debate and explain their sides where Ojiro points out the shittiness of using others without their consent and forcing them to do things against their will while Shinsou states that’s how his quirk works, then find a middle ground.
As is, we’re told that Shinsou was told that he couldn’t be a hero with his quirk, but we constantly see otherwise. Again, the only person who gets more narrative dick-sucking is Bakagou. And even with Bakagou, we see him get humbled here and there. (For two seconds, but I digress.)
Plus, Shinny’s personality is basically just copied and pasted. He’s a mini-zawa with a slightly different backstory and a bit more arrogance. And yes. Despite his low self-esteem, Shinsou is arrogant and prideful. (True, this is mostly at the sports festival where his arc starts.)
Look how he uses his quirk; he has others carry him around like a king. This isn’t bad and I like that he is one of the few to stand up to Bakagou. (I wanted them to fight and have Shinsou win, which would have been good for both arcs, but I digress.)
I just prefer Aizawa’s personality with Aizawa, who I see more of and whose backstory and character I like. He’s also not a one-note character, Shinsou is.
Aizawa is a strict teacher but he loves his students and wants to help them in his own way. He’s also a tsundere friend to Mic and Midnight. His relationship with Shirakumo is heartbreaking as he was the one who always inspired him and now he’s a brainwashed corpse.
Aizawa is a hero who stops to help people even on his days off and uses villain fights to get out of events he doesn’t care about. He made friends with low-collar criminals and had them make him so much coffee, he inspired them to open a cat cafe. The list goes on.
Shinsou is just a one-note character. He wants to be a hero but struggles because externally he’s no good at combat and internally he’s got the idea that everyone thinks his quirk is villainous to the point he can’t believe anyone who tells him otherwise (even when it’s LITERALLY everybody). Which is compelling I grant you, but what else? Who's his best friend? What food does he like? Why does he have bags under his eyes and what's up with his hair? Shouta looks like a hobo because he doesn’t think it's rational to waste energy on personal upkeep, what’s Shinsou’s excuse?
This is why Shinsou is a favorite for fanfiction. He has a setup for a tragic backstory that people can have fun with, he has a canon connection to a fan favorite, his past is mostly blank, and family is never mentioned, and his personality is basic enough that writers can add whatever they want to fit the story. But for me, why go for the bland diet version when I can have the more rounded original?
And finally, here are a few very pretty reasons;
1: I don’t like his design. The color of his hair is nice but that’s it.
2: He has angsty teen vibes where he acts “oh, no one likes me!” when everyone is praising him more than Narcissist did his own reflection and people are literally throwing themselves at him to sing praises. And no. The fact he’s literally a teen doesn’t help.
3: And the pettiest reason I don’t like him; he is always shoved in my face. (I told you it was petty, but this is an opinion piece so fuck it! :p)
Everyone and their mother has decided that Shinsou is Aizawa’s son which is annoying. I already don’t like the character, so having him forced in my face is grating. But he’s everywhere because people like the potential of his character. And to be fair, there is a lot of potential. Like Ari, he is good fanfic material. I just don’t like him enough to explore it.
I mean it, I filter every tag I can with them and these fuckers will still show up. I can’t tell you how annoying it is to really get into a fanfic only to have these guys suddenly thrown in. It’s like eating a really good meal only to find a fly in it. Maybe it won’t ruin the meal but it’s not as enjoyable as it was before. (Sorry, small rant.)
It didn’t help that I was getting the face full of Shinny when I was doing the first read and still had the SF impression of him where he reminded me of an Emo version of Bakagou who I REALLY dislike.
His relationship with Shouta doesn’t appeal to me either. Again, there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just we didn’t get to see too much of them interacting and the scenes where they did weren’t much different than the ones with his other students. And there’s not enough contrast in their personalities to set up potential interesting interactions if that makes sense. They’re too much alike to be fun for me and the things that separate them aren’t enough. Yet, in 90% of fanfics, there he is, written as a poor woobie child who needs daddy Aizawa to love him (shut up internet, you know what I mean). I just can’t stand him anymore mostly because of that. (Fanon Shinsou is the worst for me because I know what he’s actually like in the manga.)
Bottom line;
Aizawa is a well-rounded character with virtues and flaws. He struggles with having a non-combative quirk but instead of just blaming the world for being unfair, he works to overcome his weaknesses, earning the admiration of his friends. He’s blunt and rude, but he’s also kind. As a teacher, he’s super strict and merciless, but also forgiving as sin. Why hasn’t he expelled Bakagou or Mineta? He wants to help them get better (not that he takes action to do so but I digress). He’s also more than a one-note character.
Shinsou is very one noted and—mostly due to lack of screen time—relies on exposition for character development. He’s rude and arrogant, and because of his low self-esteem wants to drag others down. He uses his quirk on others without consent even though his quirk requires taking away someone’s free will, then treats them like slaves under his control. Then when they mention that the quirk made them uncomfortable, he blows it off. He also comes off as someone with a victim mentality. He’s always claiming that everyone thinks his quirk is evil but the majority of the scenes show the opposite. People overpraise his quirk. Now, I’m sure he doesn’t have this but it comes off that way.
Shinsou’s writing annoys me and he just doesn’t appeal to me as a character.
I have Shouta who’s a lot better and more fulfilling emotionally. Why do I need his less-developed clone? It didn’t help that due to his lack of screen time, his first impression of the sports festival is what stuck in my mind for the longest time before we got to see him grow up a little and we didn’t even see that development.
Again, it all comes down to personal tastes and I hope I explained this well. I did this all in a rush and luckily I had some images on standby for other characters.
#anti shinsou hitoshi#anti hitoshi shinsou#Shinsou critical#bakugou critical#mha aizawa#Aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa#I should have gone with a shorter answer but here we are#Shinsou may not be a bad character but I do not like him#Shouta on the other hand#while not perfect is great and I love him#bnha#mha#bnha meta#take with a grain of salt#written in a rush#mine#meta issues#long post
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IT PROMPTEE TIME MAYA
I'd love to see you write Autistic!Gideon, with whoever you want (with a preference for Aaron or Spencer but anyone else could be fun too!), maybe on one of his darker days? Maybe sharing the cabin with someone for the first time to show them he has a safe space and maybe so they know where to take him/where he goes when he needs an out? 🥺💙
Gideon invites Spencer and Hotch over for dinner, but he doesn’t tell them why–doesn’t let them know that there’s a reason that he’s asked them to his cabin on a random Thursday night. Spencer has only been on the team for a few months, but Gideon and Hotch have been working together for several years at this point, and the whole thing has Gideon on edge. He doesn’t feel ready for this. He also doesn’t think he can put it off any longer - not if he’s going to continue as he has been.
Spencer and Hotch arrive at the same time, and Gideon pours them glasses of water. The harder stuff can come out later if they need it. Right now, he wants everyone to be clear headed.
Hotch looks at him curiously, knowing that he’s usually one to drink wine in the evenings, and Gideon just shrugs. Spencer tilts his head and narrows his eyes like he’s working something out in his head, and Gideon wonders if he’ll be able to guess what’s going on before he has to say it. He wouldn’t put it past Spencer. The kid is beyond bright.
“Thank you for coming,” Gideon says, sitting down with his guests in the living room and taking a sip of his water. “I know this cabin is a little out of the way. I appreciate you making the trek out here.”
“It’s no problem,” Hotch says, at the same time that Spencer says, “We carpooled.” Spencer turns red and blinks a few times, and Gideon knows that he’s afraid he said the wrong thing.
“I asked you to come, Hotch, because I wanted to share something with you. Something I probably should have told you when we first started working together. I didn’t really feel that it was relevant, but a few things have happened lately that have changed my mind on that.” He turns to face Spencer. “And you’ll understand why I asked you once I explain everything.” From the look on Spencer’s face, he’s pretty sure Spencer has already guessed it anyway.
“Is everything okay, Jason?” Hotch asks, and Gideon nods.
“Sure,” he says. “Everything’s just fine.” He glances at Spencer again. “You already know, don’t you?”
“I have a suspicion,” Spencer admits. “But I’d rather you say whatever you’d planned, in case I’m wrong. I don’t want to make things weird or uncomfortable.”
“Hit me with your best shot.”
“Well,” Spencer says slowly. “I’m assuming this has to do with Tuesday afternoon when you slammed your hand down on the table in the conference room and then disappeared for three hours and no one could find you and you didn’t answer your phone.”
“That’s correct.”
“And that’s not the first time something like that has happened…”
“No, it’s not,” Gideon says guiltily.
“Jason, what’s going on?” Hotch interjects, and Gideon looks at Spencer and raises an eyebrow.
“Gideon’s trying to explain to us that he’s autistic,” Spencer says carefully. “He invited me tonight because I’m autistic, too–everyone obviously knows that already. But I can see how it would feel less daunting to tell someone with a similar experience. He’s telling you because you’re his senior agent.” He turns to face Gideon. “And I’m assuming you’re not planning on telling anyone else on the team.”
Gideon shakes his head, relaxing now that Spencer has said it all aloud and he doesn’t have to. He feels like he can breathe again.
“You’re autistic?” Hotch repeats, but his voice is gentle. Kind. He doesn’t sound angry or worried or judgmental, which is all Gideon can really ask for.
“Yes,” he confirms. “I’ve known for many years now.”
“How come you didn’t tell me when I told you?” Spencer asks.
Gideon shrugs. “I never tell anyone,” he says simply. “This is the first time it’s seemed relevant for you to know.”
“It explains why you were so quick to assure me that autistic people can be FBI agents when I came to you with my doubts.”
“Hey, I’m living proof.”
“Is it in your file?” Hotch asks.
“Yup. Couldn’t keep it out. So I guess technically you aren’t the only people who know, although I doubt many people are going through my file on a regular basis.”
“Thank you for telling us,” Spencer says loudly. “Thank you for feeling comfortable enough to share that part of yourself. That’s not an easy thing to do, especially for someone so intensely private like you.”
Hotch nods. “I’m glad you feel that you can trust me with this.”
“I invited both of you here specifically to talk about it, because this is my safe place,” Gideon explains. “This cabin is free from all the stuff we deal with at work–it’s mine, just mine, and I feel more comfortable here than anywhere else on the planet. If you ever see me struggling and we’re in town and it’s possible, please bring me here.”
“I can do that,” Spencer says. “Goodness knows you’ve saved me enough times when I needed an out. Although I will say, the 12th floor supply closet is a little bit easier to access than this place.”
“You can take me there, too, if necessary,” Gideon says seriously. “I know we can’t always just pick up and drive off somewhere. I also know I’m not always in a place to be moved great distances. In those instances, the supply closet or, ideally, my office, will suffice. But this place will always be my safe space outside of work.”
—
Nearly three months later, Spencer runs to Hotch’s office and closes the door behind him.
“I think we need to take Gideon to his cabin,” he says pointedly. “Like, right now.”
Hotch stands up. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing yet,” Spencer says. “But I was just in his office, and he seems really…dark. And obviously uncomfortable. He didn’t exactly snap at me, but he looks like he’s hanging by a thread. I thought about taking him upstairs, but since it’s just a paperwork day and you’re around, I thought maybe we could just–”
“Take him to the place where he feels safest,” Hotch says, nodding. “That’s a good idea. I’m glad you came to me. Why don’t you grab your stuff and we’ll take him over together.
It doesn’t take any fighting to get Gideon to come with them–as soon as Hotch says the word “cabin” Gideon perks up a bit before going back to rubbing his hands together over and over and over. The three of them make their way outside, and Spencer hands Gideon his sunglasses, which he had grabbed from the desk on the way out. He offers Gideon his own headphones, but Gideon declines, saying he doesn’t want to feel anything on his ears.
They drive in silence the whole way, and 30 minutes later they arrive at the cabin. Gideon practically runs to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it only takes him two tries to fumble the door open. He goes straight to the bedroom and closes the door behind him.
“Should we stay?” Spencer asks. “Or do we just…leave him here?”
“I’m not sure I feel comfortable leaving,” Hotch admits. “But I don’t know how long it’ll be until he’s feeling better. Are you okay staying for a while?”
Spencer nods. “If it starts to get too late, I can always cook dinner for the three of us.”
“You can cook?”
Spencer rolls his eyes. “Who do you think cooked when I was growing up? I’ll give you a hint–it definitely wasn’t my mom.”
“Fair point.”
‘Besides, cooking is really just chemistry. And I have a Ph.D. in chemistry, so.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
They play a few games of chess, and when it gets late, Spencer looks through the fridge and cabinets and scrounges together a nice pasta meal for the three of them. When everything’s ready, Hotch approaches Gideon’s room.
“Jason?” he calls. “We made dinner, if you’d like some.”
There’s no response.
“Jason?” he calls again. “Can I come in?”
When he’s met with silence the second time, he gingerly pushes the door open and finds Gideon on his stomach on the bed, head turned to the side, staring straight at the wall.
“You okay?” Hotch asks.
Gideon looks at him, but doesn’t speak.
“Do you want me to get Reid?”
Gideon nods once, and Hotch dashes out to the living room to grab Spencer. When they get back to the bedroom, it takes Spencer only a second to figure out what’s going on.
“Are you having trouble speaking?” he asks, and Gideon quickly nods again. “Okay. Blink once for yes and two for no?”
Gideon blinks once.
“Are you hungry? We made dinner.”
One blink.
“Do you want to come eat in the kitchen with us?”
Two blinks.
“Do you want to eat in here by yourself? I can bring you a plate.”
One blink.
Hotch gets up and grabs a plate of food for Gideon, setting it carefully on the bed, but Gideon makes no move to get up.
“Do you need help getting up?” Spencer asks.
Two blinks.
“Do you want us to leave you alone now?”
One blink.
Spencer and Hotch leave Gideon alone with his food, closing the door behind them and fixing their own plates of food in the kitchen. They eat in near silence.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Hotch finally says.
Spencer chews thoughtfully.
“It happens,” he says. “We don’t really have a lot of control over it, most of the time. I mean, we can try to minimize environmental triggers and practice self-care, of course, but sometimes there’s only so much you can do. I’d imagine Gideon has become pretty practiced at holding it together until he’s got privacy, and having his own office probably helps with that a lot.”
“Does it happen to you often?” Hotch asks. “I mean, more often that we see? You don’t have to answer that if it’s too personal.”
“No, it’s fine,” Spencer says. “I don’t know if I’d say it happens often, but more often than you see, yes. Definitely.”
“I guess I’m learning a lot about both of you.”
“I guess you are.”
A few hours later Gideon emerges from his bedroom holding his empty plate. He sets it in the kitchen sink and then sits down on the couch next to Spencer.
“Feeling better?” Spencer asks.
Gideon nods.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For dinner and…for everything.”
“Anytime,” Hotch says from across the coffee table. “Glad we could help.”
#autistic jason gideon#autistic spencer reid#aaron hotchner#maya's autistic spencer collection#maya writes more than 5 sentences
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A Mission of Another Kind
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N
Summary: Jake is assigned to a mission he did not think he would have to take part in, despite training for it with everyone else. Considering its high level of danger, you had been happy he hadn’t volunteered for it, until he came to your house one morning to tell you he had been assigned and would be leaving within the hour.
Warnings/Notes: Um…it’s a little angsty I guess. There might be cursing (I don’t actually know. I didn’t go back and check. I just assume there is because that’s usually my thing). Love confessing because I am a s-u-c-k-e-r for it.
**Part of “Wants and Needs” series, and takes place after “Scrapes and Bruises,” but you don’t have to read either to understand this**
Part 2
Words: 1322
“Baby,” Jake sighed. “Baby, say something.”
He kneeled in front of where you sat on the couch, trying to catch your eye as you picked at the fingernail you accidentally broke when your boyfriend walked through the door and told you he was leaving you.
You swallowed hard, voice raspy from the sudden dryness at the back of your throat when you said, “I thought you weren’t on this one.”
He took your hand in his and squeezed. “Plans…changed a bit,” he said, but you still couldn’t get yourself to look at him.
You knew what truths you would see in those green eyes if you did: that this mission was no joke, and the potential for something happening to him was now significantly higher than you were comfortable with, to put it mildly.
He had explained a bit of it to you, back when he thought we wasn’t going to be a part of it. Mav and Cyclone had asked for volunteers first but based on what Jake told you—the level of accuracy and skill required to succeed—you couldn’t imagine why anyone would. There would be no room for error. You were just glad he hadn’t been first in line to sign himself up. Jake loved his attention, and a few months ago he would have stepped forward, ready to further prove his talents, but when he met you that goal became secondary. And while he had been on missions since you committed to one another, they were nothing like this one. This one, which had been dubbed by the team “the riskiest since their first at Top Gun.”
Learning about that first mission gave you nightmares for weeks. By the time you came around, the team didn’t so much talk about it anymore, their conversations drawn more towards the present, but eventually Rooster gave you the details.
He told you that had it not been for your boyfriend, your honorary uncle and best friend would have died that day. But as you slept, your subconscious twisted those details into a million different nightmares that were so vivid behind closed eyelids they had you shooting out of bed, suffocating solely because your lungs refused to take in the available oxygen prying at your airways. Jake, not the heaviest of sleepers as it was, would shoot up a minute later at the sound of your gasps, putting his hands on your face to ground and center you with his touch. He’d beg you to open your eyes, to see him, and on the nights when your brain couldn’t quite comprehend his words, he’d kiss you until your chest stopped constricting and you remembered how to inhale.
Every night as he tucked you back into his side, he would ask what happened, but you never told him. You would just shake your head and settle against the warmth of his body, knowing you wouldn’t be able to explain what went on in your head without sobbing. You wouldn’t be able to both breathe and describe just how tortured you were by your own subconscious’s crafted images of his death.
“They only gave me an hour,” he said.
An hour that surely started the minute he left base, which he would have to be returned to before those sixty minutes were up. You tried to calculate the time: the sum of the drive to your house, the drive back, the full minute he spent staring at you after you opened the front door to let him in, the five minutes it took for him to tell you what was about to happen, the three minutes you spent in silent shock. How many minutes were you wasting by not looking at his handsome face? How many minutes had you already wasted without your mouth on his? You didn’t know. You had no idea where to start, and no desire to spend another minute trying to figure out just how little time you had left with him.
His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking back and forth along your cheekbone, and you raised your head to look at him. He was so beautiful, even with his brows pinched in concern and eyes greener from the red tint surrounding the irises.
“They wanted me to call instead,” he whispered, “but I couldn’t not see you.”
His eyes were scanning over the features of your face. Memorizing, you realized. Packing away into the corners of his mind every freckle, mole, and sunspot on your skin. The curve of your lips, the line of your nose, the angle of your jaw. Memorizing it all, the same way you were as you looked at him so you wouldn’t forget a thing; not even the scar above his brow from that time he and Rooster decided to be idiots and attack one another.
“Why you,” you asked.
“One of the guys who volunteered was declared unfit this morning. We all trained for it. They asked for me, and I can’t tell them no,” He replied. “I told Rooster. He’s going to come stay with you while I’m gone.”
You nodded in understanding, proud of your strength in the simple action when every fiber of your being begged you to shake your head at every word that had come out of his mouth from the moment he walked through your door.
His fingers slowly drew lines down the curve of your cheek until his index finger found its spot crooked under your chin and his thumb carefully ran over the plumpness of your bottom lip. He rose a bit on his knee and kissed you hard.
Your hands met at the back of his head, fingers weaving through his hair as his tongue brushed against yours. He sucked lightly on your bottom lip before giving it a little bite, forcing a weak whimper that his deep groan muffled.
You didn’t know how long you sat there, pouring every good, intense, honest, beautiful feeling you had for him into that kiss, but he clearly did. He must’ve been counting down the seconds you had left. Every time he tried to stop himself by separating your lips, only a half-second would pass before he was kissing you again. And three times that happened before he finally stopped, let out a shaky breath, and met your eyes.
He sighed as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and with a small smile that was not the tiniest bit believable, he said, “Baby, I need you to tell me to go.”
“What?”
“If you don’t tell me to go,” he shook his head, “I’m never going to walk out that door.”
“But—”
“Baby, please.”
The thought made your stomach flip. To say the words that would send him away was not an ability you had within you. But when you looked at him, when the pain behind his stare bore into your heart, you knew you’d have to find a way to do it; to be strong for him.
You kissed him again and settled your hands on the sides of his face with a smile that was no more convincing than his had been. Then you leaned forward, rested your forehead against his and closed your eyes. You took a moment, just to breathe in the same space as he was, to know that was he was alive and safe.
Your lips parted, and with a crack in your voice, you said—
“Go to work, Jake.”
A tear streamed down your cheek, and you bit your bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
He inhaled deeply, it exhaling as a puff against your face.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Then he slipped out of your grasp like sand through spread fingers. And by the time you opened your eyes, he was gone, door closing behind him with a slam that echoed down the hollow hall in tune with your sobs.
Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin x y/n#jake hangman seresin fic#jake hangman seresin fanfic#top gun#hangman top gun#hangman top gun maverick#hangman x reader#hangman seresin x reader#top gun hangman
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