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synthetickitsune · 2 days

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svt + when they see you walking down the aisle a/n: a tiktok i saw sent me down a delulu spiral

Seungcheol ❧ His world stops and the universe crashes down and the stardust settles in his eyes as he watches you approaching him slowly. It’s just stars. It’s not the lights reflecting in the hint of tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. Love is pain, Seungcheol realizes. His cheeks hurt so much from the effort to keep himself from smiling too widely, too like a lovesick fool that he is. He can’t take his eyes off you, which makes it hard to keep a straight or at least decent face that won’t betray how embarrassingly excited he is for this moment. Then again, maybe that’s good - he thinks when he notices you biting back your own smile. You didn’t want him to see the final look before the actual thing and would it be too inappropriate to tell you how gorgeous you look and kiss you before he gets the blessing? Perhaps, and he wants your wedding to be perfect so he’ll be patient but you’re making it ridiculously hard. He’s already failing to hide how unbelievably in love he is and how impatient he is to put that ring on your finger.

Jeonghan ❧ His lips part and he loses his breath. His racing mind comes to a stop, the time does too. He doesn’t care that he’s showing all the people around his rawest emotions, because he knows nobody is looking at him. They’re all looking at you. They must be. What could be more important than you right now? You coming towards Jeonghan slowly. You, who will be his - who chose him, who accepts him. He swallows the lump in his throat and looks towards his friends for support. Does he deserve this? He wants to have the ring on his finger already. Something, anything to reassure him he’s not dreaming. Maybe he’s not ready. Is he enough? He can’t cheat his way out of this one. What if he tricked you into believing he’s worthy of you? He’d never lie to you, but what if he did this entire time and you fell in love with someone he isn’t? You’re perfect. You’re perfect to him, and you’re perfect with him. He wants to tease you, even here and now, like he always does but he can’t. He gets too bashful when you look at him with this much adoration.

Joshua ❧ Standing straight and awaiting the moment the love of his life will appear and walk down the aisle towards him, towards your shared future, Joshua doesn’t feel nervous at all. It’s fate, it was all predestined from the beginning until now. You will exchange your vows and seal the promises with a kiss. There’s no reason for anxiety, no reason to feel nervous. Yet the moment the music plays and he sees you, he can’t help but swallow thickly and feel a pang of displeasure at the strained way he smiles. He doesn’t want to be nervous, but his hands start to tremble. You’re so beautiful, you’re glowing like the sun. It’s blinding him but he can’t look away. He can’t because he needs to take you in, and he needs to know it’s real and you’re not running away. He knows you won’t. He knows it, but what if? He’s too blessed, something is bound to get ruined - and he prays it won’t be you and him. You’re everything he wants, isn’t it unfair he gets to achieve his dream? You always tell him to be more selfish. Perhaps he should listen to you more and doubt himself less.

Jun ❧ He barely stops himself before he can move towards you, his hands twitch subtly in their longing to hold you. Jun knows he can’t mess this up - you’re supposed to be given away to him, you need to be the one to come to him. That’s the whole point. He knows you love him, feels blessed for it every second of every day. He has no doubt the ceremony will go just as he imagined - better even because it’s real! No one will take you away from him, there’s no evil plot in place. It’s just a ceremony - it will take a while. But he simply wants to hold you already. You must feel so awkward in the unfamiliar clothes you’re wearing. The shoes look uncomfortable too - what if you stumble? Wait. You’re so beautiful. He finally focuses on looking at you and not worrying about you. And suddenly he can’t move. It would be too daring to approach you. Is it really alright to let someone else guide you for the last time before you’re his to protect for a lifetime? He’ll have to take it this time, but never more afterwards. His lips stretch into a proud smile. You’re really his, and it makes him giddy like a child.

Hoshi ❧ He’s breathing slowly and deeply to calm himself, to stay still despite the waiting stretching on forever. He thinks he’ll feel relief when he sees you, but when the moment arrives… Soonyoung laughs, blinking up at the ceiling to stop the tears that flood his eyes from spilling. He does feel relief, but more than that he feels overwhelming joy, gratitude, and pride. He needs to be fast with his little breakdown because he needs a second look. He needs to enjoy the opportunity because it’s only today that he’ll get the chance to experience it. You’re blurry through the unspilled tears but he still sighs a soft woah that makes his best man sigh in exasperation that he ignores completely, desperately wiping away his tears. He’s beaming at you, and he envies you for looking much more composed than he is, with only a slight pink blush adoring your face. He wants to kiss it away. Would that be too improper to do? Yes. So would be screaming for the whole world to hear that you’re marrying him today, so suck it up everyone who isn’t him. Yet that’s what he wants to do the most - right after saying the ‘I do’.

Wonwoo ❧ It feels like the first time he saw you. You wear the same bashful smile, nerves just radiating off you like you can't believe he's waiting for you. Wonwoo remembers that back then he felt the same - in disbelief you'd actually come. He feels no such foolish feelings today as he smiles at you warmly and appreciates how beautiful you look. His chest is filled with pride knowing you chose him, and that the people that matter the most to him will witness the moment that you become his in yet another way. It's not the most important, he tries to think, just a formality. What matters most is that you agreed to spend your life with him, this is just a celebration. Yet with all eyes on you both, it's impossible not to feel pressured. Maybe he lied. He is nervous like he was back then, but now he can look at you and find the promise of a future filled with love in your eyes. He has it all planned out - the peaceful mornings and quiet nights. Bickering about new furniture, sharing chores. Forever suddenly doesn’t sound so scary - it sounds like too short of a time.

Woozi ❧ He needs to look up, but he knows that once he does he'll be damned. He waits for the moment the music starts with dread that has nothing to do with any doubts and everything to do with the fact he feels himself getting emotional. Jihoon refuses to cry. He’ll make an exception for you, as he always does, and he’ll allow his emotions to show but he will not cry. And yet the moment you appear, he almost feels his efforts go to waste. You’re so beautiful, and he’s hit with memories from your first meeting all the way to where you’re now walking towards him. It feels more like the reverse is true - like he’s the one running towards you, towards your embrace that he learned to call home. He takes a deep breath, lets it out in a wistful sigh that gives him enough strength to smile without cracking. It feels too much like he’s showing off. He told you before that he could’ve lived forever and he’d still feel he didn’t do enough to deserve the privileges he can currently enjoy. You most of all. How did he get so lucky? He won’t cry. So why are you looking so blurry…

The8 ❧ Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, methodically. Minghao is nothing if not a master of self-control. So he doesn’t allow his cautious excitement to be ruined by his rising anxiety. It’s just the expectation of everyone. He’s not performing, but it almost feels like he is, and he feels guilty for putting so much pressure on you too. On the other hand, he feels his chest swell with pride just seeing how many people will witness you and him intertwining your lives together until death do you apart. As much as he wants to appreciate how breathtaking you look, he holds your gaze. You need his support, and he can worship you later too. He smiles without realizing. It finally feels real, and he feels calm. His life is finally clicking in place. He sees nothing but trust in your eyes, and it’s all the reassurance he needs that everything will work out. You trust him to take care of you for the rest of your life, and he knows he can rely on you to do the same. He can’t wait to grow old with you. All those years later, he’ll still tease you for telling him he looks handsome before he could compliment you first.

Mingyu ❧ He knows there’s a bet in place whether he’ll cry or not, but surprisingly for everyone (including himself) Mingyu doesn’t feel anywhere close to tears. What he feels is a sense of accomplishment. He has the love of his life walking down the aisle to where he’s waiting at the altar, both of you looking immaculate - although if he’s honest, he feels like he’ll look like a fool next to you. Like a piece of dirt next to a diamond. Honestly he forgot about the room. He can’t take his eyes off you, but he’s worried he’ll say something embarrassing if he doesn’t look away. The ground is nowhere near interesting enough though, so he bites his tongue and looks up again. You look even more beautiful. He grins at you at least, because he needs you to know that he’s obsessed with you - like you (or anyone in the room) can not see the heart eyes he’s giving you. It’s not his nature to be possessive of you, but something in his chest can’t stand that he’s not the one leading you down the aisle. Showing off his pretty love like that? Boasting who he pulled? Unthinkable. He would’ve cried then.

DK ❧ He is trying to get it together, he swears he is. He told himself he won't cry, he told his friends he won't cry. But damn, is it hard when he hears the music… and it's impossible when he sees you. Seokmin knows you're everything he ever wanted and everything he'll ever need when he sees you and the tears come way too easy. Barely stopping himself before he can ruin his suit by wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he laughs and just keeps looking at you. There’s nothing he can do, he’d just keep crying anyway. He sees how you try to speed up, to be given away to him if just a second sooner, but the person next to you won’t let you, and he chuckles. Just like he always runs to you when you need him, you always do the same for him too. Did he forget that when he cries, you cry as well? He tries to calm down, you can’t both be a mess. He wouldn’t do that to you. Suddenly he wishes it could be just you and him. Would that be not enough? You started calling him your husband a long time ago anyway.

Seungkwan ❧ He's been a mess since morning. He's probably been bottling it up for months though - through the chaos of wedding planning and everyday life, all the way until now. The moment he sees you, the dams just break. He reminds himself to breathe, manages to smile at you, and even watch every step you take through the tears. You are gorgeous. You kept hyping him up for this moment but Seungkwan will need to have a talk with you - how could you fail to mention he'll be overwhelmed by love and adoration the second he lays eyes on you? He wipes off his tears carefully and hopes he still looks presentable. He'd hate to ruin your photos. He doesn't know what to do with himself. Even out of the spotlight, very honored to stand in your shadow, he feels nervous. It feels silly to stand and wait, he can't stop his racing mind that floods with memories of you two. Your loving gaze on him does little to help. Your smile is so bright, and he realizes that despite the tears he's smiling too. He wants to kiss you already. It feels like a waste that he can't, but perhaps he'll talk you into making it up to him later.

Vernon ❧ It's not a big deal. He promised that to you and he promised that to himself. So why is he getting nervous? The crowd is full of familiar and supportive faces, and yet the one who'd chase away his nerves is missing. Tension keeps building up in Vernon's body all the way until the music plays and he sees you lead in to be entrusted to him. That might be a tad dramatic, but it's an interesting part of the ceremony nonetheless and he can't wait to mention it to you and get your opinion on it. Your lives are merging, so why act as if you're being given away, as if you're a burden to be passed around? You could never be a burden to him, which is rare for him but then again you are a miracle. He feels his cheeks burning. All it took was one look at you and suddenly the tension is gone, isn't that crazy? How are you his anyway? You're so beautiful he would've approached you even if you were strangers. Again - you are a miracle. He feels a smile settle on his face and he thinks how you're the only one to make him smile by simply existing. He's in for a good life, that's for sure.

Dino ❧ His chest is filled with pride and his entire life flashes before his eyes in the few moments between the music start and you entering. Chan feels lucky. Not for the first time in his life, but the feeling now is so intense his whole body tingles. He sees you and he sees the rest of his life. He loves you unconditionally, the feeling washes over him just as strongly as when he first realized it. Isn't it foolish that even though you'll exchange your vows in just a few minutes, he wants to propose again? How can he let you know how much he loves you? He knows loving takes time, and he’s excited beyond words to spend the rest of his days loving you. He can’t wait to spend his time with and on you. But what can he do right now? He wipes under his eyes, laughing at himself before standing straight again. He'll be the best man he can be for you, and he’ll start right here. His smile is wobbly, but he hopes you can feel its sincerity. He runs his vows through his head again, but he thinks he'll improvise and add more anyway. You look too beautiful not to promise you the stars - a promise he will keep.

#seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt reactions #svthub #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #fluff

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aria0fgold · 1 year

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Omori was created for the sole purpose of protecting the dreamer, Sunny. Keep him from anything harmful, keep him from discovering the Truth, anything that can possibly hurt him. And Omori resolved to do so from start to finish, a mechanical clockwork of duty he had been enacting for 4 years. It’s so simple, and oh so easy for him.

Except, it wasn’t.

Not when he started gaining his own sentience, not when he started thinking for himself. Not when everything started to fall apart as he recalled all the past resets.

Arriving in Blackspace always mean one thing. The dreamer is close to discovering the Truth again. An area that is ever changing and never constant, with pitch black doors leading to cursed sights that Sunny buries deep in his mind, it’s something that Omori had gotten used to.

“Omori... You came back for me!”

It seems he had chosen a door leading to Basil’s one of many deaths. He’s used to it.

“Watermelons sure are delicious!“

He’s used to it.

“Summer vacation with friends was the best, wasn’t it?“

He’s used to it.

Walking to the far right, finding themselves in a room full of watermelons scattered about with Basil closely following behind in silence. He’d cut open every watermelon he sees for the key, the way out of the place. Until his cut was directed to Basil instead, turning it bits and pieces of a bloody watermelon staining the floor behind him. He didn’t look, and instead continued to cut the one in front of him, grabbing the key to hurriedly leave the place with pursed lips. Unbeknownst to him that he subconsciously bit his inner cheek, not too much so as to draw blood, but it is an action foreign to a boy with neither a will and emotion of his own. Supposedly.

Omori continued opening the other doors.

. . .

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Omori. I thought I was gonna be stuck here forever.“

Another impending death. Omori stared at Basil for a moment, trapped within a large cobweb. He easily gets him free with one slash.

“Phew... That feels so much better.“

He led the way just the same as he once did with the other one.

“You know... I think spiders are really misunderstood...” Basil started to talk again.

Omori merely listened in silence.

“There’s so many spiders here all of a sudden...“

They continued to walk again. Omori tightly clutched his knife. He’s feeling a certain emotion he has yet felt at all, he doesn’t know what to describe it as.

“Ack! They’re biting me!”

The feeling grew. What is it, what would the others describe it as. Omori glanced at Basil. There were too many spiders on him, it made Omori feel uneasy. Was it uneasiness? No, it couldn’t be. Basil was comforting the spiders, awaiting Omori to move again.

They’ll hurt him. They’ll kill him.

Another impending death...

Could I... prevent that?

Omori took a deep breath as he turned around.

“Wh-what is it, Omori? Why are you holding your knife like that?“

“Stay still...“

Omori carefully swatted the spiders away with the blunt side of the knife before slashing them with its blade.

“Oh! Th-thanks! But.. ack!“

He kept at it. Yet no matter how much he swat away and kill, more emerges from seemingly nowhere. And soon, there was far too many of them.

“There’s so many of them... I can’t get them off!“

Omori can only watch in horror as Basil was engulfed by them.

I couldn’t prevent it...

Perhaps, he never could. Omori continued on to find the key and open another door.

#ariawrites #lost au #another writing jumpscare boo!#anyway in this au omori got sentience earlier #and started to have emotions too! but hes unfamiliar with everything #spoiler alert: it was worry that he felt during the part of basil with spiders #also i wanted to write more by covering all the basil deaths #and omori just breaking away from his duty as he tries to save basil each time #i think the only time omori gets blindsided is the death of the raft #during the elevator part omori tried to hold the door open #but it wont budge at all and unfortunately if he continued to hold onto it #his hands boutta get cut too so he had to back away as the door slammed shut #omori gets kinda desperate with the other death scene #he blocks playground bs aubreys bat but basil gets killed by kel instead #getting real desperate as he gets to the church area #really wanna free basil but he has a feeling that thats not the right choice #sadly had to kill that one instead #so when it got to the part of basil in red space #omori spared him which ties in well with the last snippet of this au #omori spoilers

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peachesofteal · 6 months

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Simple Math / Part Three

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Flirting. Emotional hurt/comfort. Panic attack. PTSD. Comfort. "You'll be with him?"

“-nna let ‘im die out here-“

“-is too risky without adequate-“

Johnny is drowning in a sea of shattered voices, whispers of words that sound like they might be coming from Gaz, or Price, hushed prayers and promises, jargon he doesn’t understand washing over him from unfamiliar, clinical mouths.

It’s overwhelming. He can hardly get his eyes to open, and when he does, they stay half shut for what feels like hours, even though he knows, logically, it’s mere seconds.

He’s no longer strapped into a backboard, but a bed, and the ceiling is not metal and rivets, but white and canvas, voices competing with the constant sound of beeping.

“Soap.” Price leans into his line of sight, hat gone, exhausted. He’s holding a sat phone, the one they usually carry during missions in one hand, a file folder in another. He looks his age, Johnny thinks, for the first time in his career. Looks like he’s spent eons in combat, like he hasn’t had a full night’s rest in a decade. “John. You’re in the hospital on base.” At the use of his government name, Johnny tries to straighten on instinct. The soft, floating feelings he’s been having for the past who knows how long have faded, and his body is starting to feel like it’s been pumped with gasoline, and then lit on fire. From the inside. “Are you with me, Sergeant?” He tries to vocalize, tries to say yes, or nod, but can hardly get his neck to work, bones and ligaments and everything in him screaming in agony. “They want to take you in a flight for life, get you home to a top hospital. Simon's already agreed, but he- he wants to speak with you.” Price wrenches his fingers open and lifts the clunky satellite phone to his face. “I rang him, on the emergency line, at home. Just… you need to-“ he stops, chest heaving with a desperate breath, an indulgence of emotion that Johnny has never seen. His captain wants to tell him- you need to say goodbye, just in case. But he can’t find the words, and Johnny can’t make it fit in his head, the reality, the stark reminder that he could not be here, in a moment. Or an hour. A day. “Open your eyes, John. Stay awake.”

“Johnny.” The Manchester accent crackles through the receiver. Johnny can almost see him, cell pressed to his face, pacing in the living room. He wonders if he’s got the fireplace lit, if it’s chilly now that it's turning to winter, if there’s been frost on the windows of their little house. If Simon is wearing a pair of sweatpants, if he’s got the television on as he tries to make dinner. “Johnny. Sit rep.” The status check comes through harsh, but the truth is tucked away beneath the grit. Fear. Life altering, heart breaking fear drenches every syllable that spills from his partner.

Pain sizzles through his muscles, across his brain, but he swallows it, shoves it down into a dark hole for another minute.

“Pretty banged up.”

“They’re going to lift you to a hospital,” He thinks he knew that. “and you’re goin’ be alright. I’ll meet you there.”

“Ah love ye, Si.” It’s all he can say. All he can think about. The excruciating agony that is radiating through his body robs him of everything else.

“I love you too. Hang on.” Johnny grinds his jaw, blowing short breaths through his nose to try to control his pain response, and then holds his breath when soft babbles echo through the phone. “It’s Da, Pen. It’s Da. Can you say Da?”

“Da?” Penny mimics her dad, and Johnny wonders if they’re sitting on the couch, Penelope tucked up against Simon’s chest, wispy curls tickling just below his nose as she climbs all over him like a jungle gym.

“Ma wee lamb.” Johnny whispers. “Ah love ye, Pen.” There’s more babbling, half strung together words, more than appropriate for a fourteen-month-old, and Johnny’s temples shine with tears that drip from the corners of his eyes. There’s talking, around him, people bustling back and forth. A hand brushes against skin, sharp pinch squeezing along the inside of his arm.

“Can you say, I love you?” Simon encourages, but Johnny knows it’s a lost cause.

“When she’s old enough to understand, ye tell her Ah loved her, loved her so much. Ye an’ her, is all I ever wished fer.”

“Stop.” Simon breathes. “You’re going to be fine.”

There’s another poke in his arm, someone lighting a fire in his veins, and he loses the battle to his eyes once more.

Your neck grumbles in protest when you try to twist it, working out tight muscle and tendon, rolling it across your shoulders and down, back and forth, over and over again.

You should go home.

You know you should. It’s two hours past seven, you should already be home. Should already be in your flat, showering the workday off and crawling into bed. You could be having a tea, snuggled up in your sweatpants, moving playing on low in the background. Warm, safe. Nearly asleep.

Johnny twitches beside you. His fingers clench in the blankets and then relax, face smoothing out in his dreams. The mask is gone, replaced with the cannula that loops beneath his nose, and the monitor beeps in soothing, reassuring, stable tones. One chime right after another, relaying his vitals to where you sit in Simon’s chair, feet slung over the side, kindle in your lap.

You made a promise.

And even without that promise, for some reason, you couldn’t just leave Johnny here to wake up alone. The idea of him coming to and being confused, or scared, again, made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Even before you promised Simon to stay earlier, you already knew.

You wouldn’t be leaving.

“He’s had a seizure.” Simon’s eyes widen above the mask and then flatten into something harder, something almost distrusting. “Neuro’s done an exam and they’re of the opinion there will be no long-term deficits, but we’ll need to wait until he wakes to be sure. They’re still trying to figure out what caused it, but most likely it's a result from surgery.” He moves to shoulder by you, no doubt trying to beeline back to Johnny’s room, but you hold your hand up with a pause. “I can’t let you go back in there yet.”

“Why not?”

“He’s not awake.”

“I don’t-“

“Simon, this is the ICU. I don’t know who or what strings you pulled to even be allowed to sit with him in there twenty-four seven, but it’s not the norm. You won’t be allowed back in that room until we are sure he is stable.” You don’t tell him that you don’t want him to be there when Johnny wakes in case there are deficits, that you’re trying to save him from the pain, the heartbreak, of seeing things that patient’s loved ones are not meant to see.

He regards you silently, and you fidget under the scrutiny, waiting for him to speak, trying to ignore how your mouth is going dry. This isn’t the first he’s watched you like this, stared at you like he’s trying to pick you apart, and you swallow your grimace until the long moment passes, his voice low, gritty with stress. Exhaustion.

“I’m supposed to go home today for a bit. I… don’t want to leave ‘im.”

“You can still go. He’s sleeping for now, and when he wakes, they’ll have to do some more tests that you won’t be allowed in the room for anyway.” He looks down the hallway towards Johnny’s room, before his eyes find yours, heavy with grief, indecision.

“You’ll be with him?” He can’t hide the hopeful inflection at the end of his question, his need for a light in the dark of this situation.

“I-“ The thought didn’t occur to you, to not be there. You imagined you’d wait until Johnny was cleared by neuro and Simon was allowed back in the room, but the morning has dragged on, and he’s been sleeping peacefully. There’s been no desire to wake him unnecessarily. “Yes. I’ll stay with him. I promise.”

“He go home?” Johnny’s voice, scratchy from sleep and medication and everything else, startles you from a half doze, spine straightening into a rod before you’re leaping to your feet, leaning over his prone figure.

“You’re awake.” You find his good hand, slipping two fingers into his grip. “Can you squeeze my hand?” When he does, tightly, more strength in it than you were expected, you give him an honest, happy smile, and retreat to the end of the bed, flipping up his blanket to poke at the bottom of his feet. “Can you feel that?”

“Aye.”

“And this?”

“Aye.” He huffs at you, impatient. “Did he go home?” You sigh in response, hand on your hip.

“Yes.”

“Finally. Been tellin’ him he had to. The man’s back ‘s not made to sleep sittin’ up.”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t want to leave. I told him I’d sit with you.” You reach over to press the page button, looking intentionally away from where those bright blue eyes track you, sweet and soft and open, lips slightly parted. “How’s your pain? I’m not on the clock any longer, so I can’t page the neurologist, but they’ll have come and do a few tests.”

“Ye wanted to sit with me, pretty girl?” Your face gets hot, blood pooling beneath your skin, pit of your stomach liquifying into something honeyed and potent that flows through your veins until you swear you can feel the room getting warmer.

“How’s your pain?” you repeat your question, words dumb on your tongue.

“A five.” You raise an eyebrow. “Alright, a seven. And a half.” The days nurse knocks with perfect timing, all hustle and bustle, bright and cheery, and asks Johnny the same questions, keeping up a perfect stream of small talk between you and Johnny until Neuro is standing at the foot of his bed, and you’re excusing yourself.

“Okay, I’m-“

“Dinnae leave.” He protests, voice quiet. Your stomach lurches at the vulnerability there, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“I’m just going to get a tea.” You promise, even though you know he’ll probably be half loopy by the time you’re back, and the dayshift nurse gives you a nod, acknowledgement of his state, an understanding that she’ll be here with him.

Not an hour later, your pocket chimes with a text from the dayshifter as you half sip your tea, letting you know that Johnny’s exam is done, and as you pass her in the hallway, she gives you verbal confirmation of what you were hoping for: his brain function is normal. He’ll have to go for CT later, but she’s just given him another dosage for pain management. You yawn in the middle of her pass-on, and she tells you that she'll keep an eye on him. You can go.

She's not wrong.

You need to go to bed.

You know your presence at your patient's bedside won't be viewed as unprofessional, since others have done it in far less severe situations, but the pendulum your emotions swing on every time you step foot in that room leaves you with a sinking feeling that's starting to crawl across your skin.

You wanted this. You wanted to stay with him.

Simon asked you stay with him.

Yeah, but for how long? He cannot expect you to spend all day here. You have to go to bed. Are you just going to leave him all alone? Are you going to wait for Simon to come back?

The dread spiral is easily answered when you slide open the glass door and lay eyes on the very handsome man from the other night, the younger one from the chair vigil, now sitting beside Johnny, the two of them softly chuckling.

When Johnny spots you, he manages to fire off your name as a half-effort introduction, more than expected considering his slowly slipping state of consciousness.

“I’m Kyle. Soap an’ I work together.” Soap? Who is Soap?

“She doesnae know me b’ Soap, only calls me Johnny.” He explains your confused look, to which Kyle raises an eyebrow.

“Wow. Letting your nurse call you Johnny, eh? Simon better-“

“Ach, stop.” He rolls his eyes, but sleep tugs his lids downward.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You give Johnny and his monitor a once over, catching yourself on his sweet, sleepy gaze, flushed face and lazy smile, before directing your attention back to Kyle. “I told Simon, I’d sit with him for a bit before he got back, but…”

“I’m here in his place.” Kyle explains, motioning to the chair, and you breathe a small sigh of relief. You will get to go home and get some sleep, after all.

There’s a woman with a confused look on her face just outside the elevator. She looks exhausted, skin raw under her eyes, clutching a baby who’s maybe a year, or a bit older, in her arms, glancing up and down the hall before she spots you.

Fuck. You’re still wearing your scrubs.

“Hi.” You smile, and she visibly relaxes, obviously relieved. The baby tucks her face into the woman’s chest like she’s shy, coyly looking at you from corner of her eye. “You look lost.”

“I’m looking for the nurse’s station. My husband was supposed to meet me here but he’s running late and I-“

“It’s all the way down, take the first left, and it will be at the end of that hallway.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” She glances at your ID, punctuating her gratitude with your name, and you give her another smile, leaning to extend towards the baby as well.

“So cute.” You tell her, pressing the elevator button with a ding.

“Cute. But she’s a little terror, especially when she’s missing her Da.” She grumbles, and then waves, setting off against the white tile as you laugh to yourself. Pretty much sums kids up. Cute little terrors.

A week passes easily, beds and rooms changing over, room two sixty-eight remaining a constant. Johnny takes his battles on the chin, burn debridement on his side, casting for his wrist, removal of his chest tube, a third surgery.

“He’s a fighter.” Simon tells you one night in the dark after he’s slipped off to sleep. “Always has been. He's strong. Spirited.”

“I can see.” You agree, holding out the extra blanket you’ve pulled from a cabinet. When Simon takes it, his eyes meet yours, something soft shining in them, and you give him a smile in return.

“Thank you.” He murmurs. “For everything.”

A few days later, you’re surprised, and secretly pleased, to find Simon in the café.

He’s standing in front of the counter, paying for what you think might a baked good of some kind, sweet lady behind the register eyeing him up suspiciously as he deposits the note into her hand, and you stay on the outside of the doors, lingering in the hallway, watching.

At least he’s eating something. He’s still wearing the mask, and although it’s not uncommon, especially in a hospital setting, it does give you pause. Does he wear it all the time? Is it just because this is a hospital? He observes the room, steadily taking in all of the people meandering about, some eating, some standing, making their selections, engaging in conversation, and you notice how his hand slides to the back of his neck, distractedly rubbing the hair at his nape before he makes his escape, long legs eating up the distance between him and the door, him and… you.

“Hi.” You squeak when he steps into the hall, turning the corner to find you standing there like a deer in headlights, your water bottle clutched in one hand, phone in the other. His head tilts, eyes narrowed, and you manage to give him a half smile. “Getting something to eat?”

“It’s for Johnny.” He notes. “I ah, had something to eat earlier. When I was home.” Oh, good. Being in the hospital twenty-four seven isn’t healthy for anyone. Not even patients.

“Cool.” Cool? What is this, a pub? You swallow your embarrassing, awkward acknowledgement, breezing past the word like it didn’t happen. “Well, I’m about to badge in, so I’ll see you in a bit?” He nods, eyes still trained on your face, and you beat back the heat that’s spreading through your body like a fever when they drift down to your shoulders, and then to your badge.

“Cute sticker.” He points to where it’s clipped to your top, shiny bunny sticker from a patient’s child still there, holographic print sparkling in the dusk.

“Oh, thanks. Another patient of mine has a little kid. I was hanging out with him for a bit yesterday.”

“Suits you.” His gaze dips downward, glancing over the curve of your hip, plush from the swell of your ass, taut pull of your scrubs all of the sudden feeling too tight, too stretched across your waist, and you scramble to make sense of his comment.

“A bunny?” Your brows raise in disbelief, confusion, but he only nods, head tilted slightly, posture broad. Your brain turns over, frantically trying to think of a response, something clever, but he continues to talk, clearing his throat with a question.

“What do you call a line of rabbits hopping backwards?” Huh?

“What?”

“A receding hare-line.” Wait. What? Is he… joking with you? Your mouth drops into a little o of part surprise, part confusion, before you squint at him in disbelief.

“Oh… my god. That’s…”

“’s not that bad.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, giving you the impression that he might be smiling beneath the mask, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating.

“It’s pretty bad.” You croak, nervous laughter bubbling up in the back of your throat. “Well, I… uh-“ His phone dings, pulling his focus to the screen, and he swipes out something quickly with his thumb.

“I’ll see you up there.” He jerks his head towards the elevator, and you mumble out a mild, flabbergasted reply.

“Alright... yeah.”

Your first break comes up fast. Your morning, everyone’s evening, is busy, with a code, a tricky vent, and a needy, elderly man in two fifty-two. It goes from busy to worse, an argument with the pharmacy heating your blood, spurring anger through your veins and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep from berating the poor tech at the window. Useless. You seethe in your mind all the way back up to your floor, frustration driving you to seek solace, eager to escape the eyes of the hospital, running away from the possibility of being noticed.

But supply closet 2b is occupied, a frazzled resident huffing into a pillow in the back, hyperventilating with tear-stained cheeks.

Without even fully realizing, you find yourself inside two sixty-eight, Simon’s sharp eyes falling upon you with scrutiny. He looks at Johnny’s monitor like something might be amiss, relaxed posture straightening into something tense, structured. There’s a card game in progress on the swivel tray table over Johnny’s lap, the glaring reality of your interruption, and you blanche.

You’re immediately incredibly embarrassed. What are you even doing in here?

“Miss me already?” Johnny coos, beaming, and your throat feels dry. He’s feeling the best he has since he got here, albeit not great, still in awful pain, still staring down the barrel of more surgeries, but the pain medication from earlier is working its way through his system, and you’re happy to see it’s taking the edge off it all for him, allowing him comfort and conversation with his partner.

“My um… usual break spot is occupied?” You don’t know why you phrase it as a question, it just comes naturally. Like you’re seeking permission. Agreement.

“Ye want to sit with us? While ye eat?” Johnny asks, somewhat pointing to your yogurt cup, and you shrug, but Simon motions to the extra chair, the one that now sits on the other side of the bed, across from him. Guess facilities finally brought down that recliner you requested.

“Would… would that be alright?”

Johnny looks to Simon, and Simon nods. Slowly.

Your yogurt goes down easy, light chit chat bouncing around the room, Johnny nodding in and out with drawn out answers to your questions, until a noise startles you from the chair, pushing you onto your feet to peer out the door.

It’s a man, yelling, screaming, from a room down the hall, not from sadness or despair, but rage, and your mind goes haywire when security is paged over the PA system.

Deep breath.

This happens sometimes. Patients, or loved ones, become disruptive. Secrets and lies all come out in the wash in a hospital. Custody agreements, battles, DNRs, last wills and testaments, any of these things are a perfect tinder box. One match, and it all goes up.

A siren blares.

“Code black, code black.” echoes through the hospital, each room on every floor, down every hall.

Johnny startles from his near sleep stupor, eyes alert, the outline of his muscles solid beneath his gown.

Security risk. Lockdown.

You straighten your spine.

Deep breath.

This is your job.

Part of your job is being able to handle things like this. Protect, take care of your patients, and their families. Keep them safe.

The man shouts again, sharp tone of anger snapping through the air and across your frame, forcing your muscles tense.

You slide the door lock into place, pulling the curtain to only allow a small line of sight.

“What’s going on?” Simon stands, turning towards the door, and Johnny pats his hand, like he’s trying to soothe him.

“Oh, uh. It’s… just a lockdown. I don’t know.” You’re vaguely aware of the numb feeling that’s spreading from your chest down into your hand, and the sound of the irate man gets closer. Fuck.

“Ye okay?” Johnny’s voice is gentle, and when you glance over your shoulder to reassure them, you realize they’re both watching you, Simon’s eyes locked onto your now trembling fist, as Johnny regards you softly, with kindness.

��Um. Yeah.” You suck in a quick breath, forcing yourself to steady, gritting your teeth against the frozen, involuntary fear that’s trying to overpower you. You think Simon might be frowning beneath the mask, confusion shading his question.

“Why are you standing at the door?”

“It’s standard operating procedure. If there’s an issue, or a disturbance. If you’re in a patient’s room, if I- I’m in a patient’s room, I’m supposed to act like a… barrier. Just in case.” You keep your eyes fixed out the glass, watching for any sights, listening for any sounds. The door is locked, and glass is thick, and security would be here if anything were to happen, they’re already down the hall, everything is fine. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep-

“Go sit with Johnny.” Simon's standing just behind you, voice pitched low, sweetened into one of those softer hums, the kind of tone he usually uses with Johnny. Not with you. He’s so close, you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, and you shake your head with a refusal.

“I have to stay-“ He cuts you off, not even letting you choke out the rest of your quivering protest.

“No. Go sit with Johnny.” He pauses, stepping around to angle his body in front of yours, looking down at you over his shoulder, and you think, for a moment, you see a glimmer of the tenderness there that’s reserved for Johnny. “Please.”

“My wrist hurts.” Johnny calls hopefully to you, mischievous smile and eyes sweet, his good hand outstretched with an open palm. “Need ye to rub it.” Simon nods, serious look quashing any rebuttals you might have, protocol and procedure slipping far from your mind as you let yourself drift to Johnny’s side, settling back into your seat previously abandoned. Johnny offers you his wrist, smile fading when he looks closer at your curled fingers. “Ye’re shaking, pretty girl.”

“Low blood sugar.” You lie. The man in the hallway shouts again, closer, loud and awful, roiling with rage, and you inadvertently tense, jolting minutely in the chair.

“Hey now.” Johnny reaches for you, gentle touch against your skin, warm fingers holding onto yours. You look down to where he tries to give you comfort, where he tries to soothe you, instead of the other way around, as it has been, as it should be, and you get lost in it, the idea of comfort, the feeling of care. It makes your heart stumble in your chest, almost like you can’t breathe, staring off into space, trying to pretend like there isn’t a man screaming down the hall, like you’re not the person you are, buried beneath the insurmountable weight of scars, memories of pain and fear etched into the very tissue of your brain, the backs of your eyelids, every strand of hair.

Ingrained inside of you, forever.

Someone says your name, and you blink back to the face of your patient, who looks to Simon, his expression unreadable until it shifts into tender warmth, re-focused on you. “What is it?”

“I-“ You picture yourself, letting your lips go loose, entrusting your secrets and worst fears to these strangers, these men who you don't even know, who don't know you. “I’m exhausted.” You offer, and shadow flickers across Johnny’s eyes. It’s not a lie, not technically. You’re always exhausted.

“Ye-“

“Code black lifted. Code black lifted. Lockdown complete. Resume normal operation.” The PA system drones, tension between your shoulders draining, and you jump to your feet, palms and fingers smoothing over your scrub top.

“Well, I’ve got to check in at the nurses’ station now. Protocol.” You explain, nearly tripping over yourself on the way to the door. Your heart is still raging inside your chest, beating faster than it should, and you steady your breathing with a mental count. One... two... three... one... “I’ll check in on you later.” You promise over your shoulder, slipping by Simon to disappear down the hallway.

#peaches writes #simple math #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #john soap mactavish #simon riley #ghoap #soap x ghost #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #simon ghost riley

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ragingbookdragon · 9 months

Text

Ghost wasn’t a man who knew how to do relationships. Even when he was a teenager, the idea of romance was stamped out of him when he watched his father beat his mother. Love between two people didn’t exist to Ghost, and yet, he found himself sweet on the recruit they’d gotten from overseas a few months ago. If there was a person who had Ghost’s demeanor and Soap’s personality, it was her. Quiet when the moment called for it, always watching, always waiting, loud and boisterous when a party needed to be started.

He bonded with her over a love of fine bourbon and good knives, finding himself watching her at every opportunity to see if more of her would be revealed to him. He wasn’t going to ask, of course, a man like Ghost never asked. He observed and acted with careful thought.

Starting a relationship with her, however, proved to be a much more arduous task. Soap had once teased her about her love of having a knight in shining armor and she’d practically floundered in embarrassment while hastily spitting out, “Well, I’ve saved myself since I was eight. Forgive me for wanting someone to take care of me and treat me like a princess.” And that’s when Ghost realized that she wanted it all. She wanted the roses on the first date, to wear that sexy red dress, and go to a fancy restaurant. To have a man be a gentleman and open doors and pull her chair out, but still a little suggestive and whisper blush-inducing words in her ear when no one was looking. She wanted someone who would wake her up with slow kisses, bring her breakfast in bed, take her dancing under the streetlights when it was drizzling in the cool night.

She wanted what Ghost couldn’t offer her.

And yet, he tried to.

He had successfully asked her out with a dozen red roses, managed to get her into a red dress and to a nice restaurant, but the longer he found himself sitting across from her, the more he felt himself becoming uncomfortable with the environment. Too many windows, too many open spaces, too many unfamiliar faces. His nerves were on alert, and it was only until her hand gently rested on his that he looked at her, blinking in shock.

“Simon?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “Is everything okay tonight?” concern was etched onto her face. “You look like you’re gonna have an anxiety attack.”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “I’m fine…jus’ not used to this is all.”

“Dinner with a pretty woman who can kick ass?” she joked, and he tried for a smile but managed to make a better grimace. “Simon, what’s wrong? Really?”

He let out a breath and closed his eyes, feeling like a fool for being in his thirties and unable to properly explain his emotions like a teenager. “I’m trying to give you a good date, but…I don’t…” she gently encouraged him by brushing her fingers against his hand. “I don’t know how to do this right. And I…I don’t want you to get upset that I’m not doing it how you want.”

“How I want?”

Simon gestured vaguely. “A knight in shining armor…treating you like a princess.” He looked at her. “I…care about you, love, I just don’t know how to do this in a way that you deserve.”

Her eyes shown with a softness, and she nodded her head, then pulled away, flagging down a waiter for the bill. He wasn’t even able to argue when she paid and pulled him up, dragging him to the car where she ordered him to drive her back to base. And all the while, Ghost was cursing himself for being so open that it wasn’t until he was trying to stop his heart from escaping his throat at her quarter door that he realized it.

She opened her room and walked in, stopping when she realized that Ghost didn’t follow her. “Simon?”

“Look, I get it, this isn’t what you want, but I just need to—”

“Will you get in here?” she huffed, pulling him in by his suit jacket. “Jeez, can’t even read the room.”

“I don’t follow?”

“You’re a smart man, but I think you’re spending too much time around Soap.” She smiled and sat on her bed, bright expression lit up at him as she said, “Simon, I don’t need you to be some type of prince for me.” Holding out her hand, she added, “Besides, I think a knight in shining armor is a little far-fetched even for you. You’re more like a death knight. The grim reaper. Death incarnate. Death—”

“I got it,” he scowled and sat down, taking her hand in his. “So…you don’t want the whole suit and tie?”

“You look like you’re genuinely going to have a hernia, Simon. It’s like you stuck a cat in a Halloween costume. Besides, you look the best in a pair of dark jeans and that jacket-hoodie combo you always have going on.” She looked away, embarrassment in her tone as she admitted, “It’s sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes, glancing back at him.

“I once watched you break a man’s neck with just the heel of your boot and that’s when I genuinely realized there was something wrong with me, because it was very enticing to see how deadly you were.”

“So, you don’t want to be saved by a prince, you want to be saved by an asshole knight who was assigned to guard the irritating princess against his will? And they bicker at every single moment of their life?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “That’s the relationship goals.” She smiled at him. “And then they fall in love, and he realizes that his irritating princess is actually all he’s ever wanted in life.”

“Besides a paycheck.”

“Besides a paycheck.” She gently reached up, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing over his lips as she murmured, “Simon, I don’t need you to be something you’re not. I just need you exactly as you are.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, maybe you can smile at me more than you do everyone else. Maybe not be so grumpy with me.”

He knocked his forehead against hers. “I already do that with you.”

She barked a laugh. “HA! Could’ve fooled me. You grunt at me like you do Soap.”

“That’s because you and Johnny become Dumb and Dumber when you two get together.”

“We do not!”

“And you turn into the three stooges when you get Gaz in on it.”

“That one might actually have grounds, but the jury’s still out on the former.”

“Uh huh.”

She shifted, throwing a leg over his lap, perching herself gently atop his thighs, forearms resting on his shoulders. “Why don’t we get out of the nines, put something comfier on, and get takeout? We can eat Chinese watching the water and talk shit about our childhoods.”

Simon visibly melted beneath her and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Yeah…that sounds good.”

Clearing her throat, she leaned back a little and offered, “You should help me out of this dress though, Lieutenant Riley. See I can’t reach the zipper and I’m defenselessly naked underneath.” She batted her lashes. “I need a man of upstanding honor to make sure that no one can take advantage of me in my nude. A man who wouldn’t feel up all this woman underneath her clothes.”

Ghost smirked, reaching behind her to grab the zipper of her dress. “Is that right?” he started pulling down. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but there are no men with upstanding honor here.”

She sighed dramatically and feigned passing out, a hand pressed against her forehead. “Oh no, whatever shall I do in the hands of this scoundrel? Am I really to give in to the throes of passion and let him ruin me and my honor?”

The zipper touched the top of her rear, and he slipped his hands inside her dress, feeling her warm, bare skin beneath. “Funny, I was thinking that exactly.”

“My bodyguard is going to kick your ass,” she retorted, arching against his palms as they smoothed up her back to securely pull her down by her shoulders. “I’m serious. He’s very protective over what’s his.” She leaned in and murmured, “He once cut a man’s head off for touching me.”

Ghost’s chest rumbled with a growl, and he leaned into her ear. “Well, well, Princess, it’s a shame you can’t tell your bodyguard from a common knave.”

“Oh, I can,” she flirted, tugging at his tie. “It’s just fun to see him get annoyed.” She grinned and curled the tie in her fist, yanking him forward. “Treat me well. Princess’s orders.”

He matched her smirk, already turning her back into the mattress, hands pushing up her dress to her stomach. “As she wishes.”

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Part 4 of Nikto’s commandments

Content: Sexual Desire, Dissociation, Depersonalization, Codependency, Acts of Service, Masturbation

You moan his name sometimes in your sleep.

Usually just before you wake up, panting and overheated, shooting wide-eyed glances his way. Lying to you would be a sin beyond redemption so he always lets you know that he’s awake. You often apologize, sometimes you assure him you’re alright. It takes him a while to identify the look in your eyes those nights — he was unfamiliar with it even before: guilt.

You feel guilty.

Puzzling out the why of that takes longer still. You’re a mystery to him, ineffable. The way god is supposed to be. Unlike the Christian one, you almost always have a purpose behind what you do, and you’ll answer Nikto whenever he dares to ask. (He’s not going to ask about this.)

He first thought that you were calling for his help in dreamt pain. That your blown out pupils, trembling hands, and flushed face were products of fear and imagined torture.

But then you started to lean into his neck in your sleep, making soft, high noises. Would press your ass into the cradle of his hips, grind against his thigh. Alien as his body is to him now, he can recognize emotion in others. Lust, desire.

Coming to terms that you feel these things for him has been another challenge altogether. (But you are a loving god, a compassionate keeper. The sweetness and mercy and nobility found in the viscera of his world. If there is anything of him worth wanting, you would find it.) If you are attracted to this… vessel he inhabits, who is he to question you?

The guilt, though. That he is still puzzling out.

If anyone should feel guilt, it is him (though he doesn’t, isn’t even sure if he can). Now that you’ve made him more aware of his body, of his desires, there’s a constant buzz of arousal in his blood. For you. He craves you constantly. Your touch, your voice, your scent in his nose. He could suffocate on you.

It’s selfish, it’s sinful. To desire anything of you when you have given him everything and asked for nothing in return. Not even his loyalty, freely given. It is why he could not say yes when you offered to slake his desire; it would have been akin to blasphemy.

Unless.

Unless you have asked something of him.

“Whoa!” A giggle as you tilt your head back to him, amused and curious. “What was that for?”

He feels wooden as he glances down at you. His arm is around your waist, nearly crushing you to him. Hadn’t even realized he moved. You don’t seem to mind, palms light on his forearm. Still looking to him.

He does not answer. Can’t find the words past the panic clawing at his throat. Lets you go slowly, finger by finger. You don’t step away once free.

You say something else. Something about rain maybe? He’s too busy staring at the deft hands you cup around your mouth.

How soft and gentle they are on his skin, skipping over the worst scars. The first thing you always do is touch him. When he’s out of a shower, just changed, climbing into bed, waking up. You reach for him, as if you can’t bear to be parted with the same intensity he feels.

Do you crave to touch him in other ways? Has he denied you, unwitting as it may have been?

It would be one thing to ask anything of you, especially for his own sake. But to give you something… even if it’s such an unworthy offering as himself…

“Nikto?”

His eyes flick down to yours. You smile at him, point at your own temple.

“Busy up there today, huh?” It’s not even a tease, but he feels as if he’s made another misstep.

“Sorry.”

You shake your head, bump your shoulder into his arm. “I’m just checking that you’re alright.”

“Alright” being relative. He objectively understands that he is broken and damaged. That he does not operate at full capacity all — or even most — of the time.

But with your help he’s established a baseline, a “normal.” Something to measure his body, and more importantly his damaged mind by.

“I am… alright,” he decides finally. “Just thinking.”

“Okay,” you answer, easy as that. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen — but you don’t have to.”

You don’t have to is your favorite thing to say to him. He would laugh if he remembered how.

He grunts an affirmative and follows you to wherever you’re headed next.

—

That night, your ankle is hurting. Nothing serious, you assure Nikto. Just rolled it a bit. You promise it just needs rest, low level painkillers, and a bit of elevation.

Nikto is unpracticed at care. For all he practically lives in your pocket, medical care is unusual for you. He spends so much time keeping you safe, protected, alive and unharmed. He has little direction when it comes to your discomfort.

Luckily, you provide direction in spades.

“Two pills from the bottle with the red cap and a glass of water please.”

His cock twitches hard. Fills out almost dizzyingly fast in the confines of his tac pants.

He fetches both for you, holding each in turn as you pluck the pills from his hand and sip the water. You sigh gratefully and tell him to set the glass on the nightstand. Another bolt of pleasure to obey, while you like droplets from your bottom lip.

“Can you grab my computer and the charger? I want to watch something before bed.”

He brings them, stands waiting while you fiddle with it. Waiting for another request. He’s achingly hard now. Throbbing in his underwear.

“Oh! Hairbrush too, please?”

When he hands it to you this time, hand almost to the point of shaking, you give him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, I keep making you run around.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is gruff, but it so often is that you don’t seem to find anything amiss. “More?”

“Ah… well, if it’s not too much trouble, could you grab the extra blanket? It’s cold tonight.”

He tries to pace himself. To balance the pleasure of obeying against the speed of completing the task. You hum in delight as he drapes it over you — a fluffy monstrosity of a thing. Utterly decadent, he’d never even entertain the idea of having one. But you deserve a dozen of them if you wanted them. He’d retrieve them now for you if only you asked.

(He wishes you would ask.)

He is harder than he ever remembers being. (Granted, there are many gaps in his memory, even now. But there is enough there to know this is true.)

“Okay that should be the last thing for a bit.” You’re looking away and don’t see the minute deflation of his shoulders. He’s nearly panting. “Come snuggle in?”

“In a moment,” he says, surprising himself. You seem a bit (pleasantly) surprised too. He’s never denied you anything for even a moment. But if he sits next to you now…

“Ah, gotcha,” you say when he turns for the bathroom.

You start playing whatever tv show you have queued up to offer him privacy. He closes the door after himself and for the first time since regaining his freedom, takes himself in hand.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #nikto x reader #cod nikto

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teejaystumbles · 6 months

Text

Happy Halloween! It's the last day of October and the last bingo square for the Monsterfucktober Bingo finished - "science gone wrong"!! 👻🧟🥰

I couldn't help writing a little story for this - find it under the cut! Thanks to @valiantstarlights for the idea of Hob reacting to Dream's voice!

Morpheus looked at his new creation and frowned at the mismatched skin tones of the shoulder and leg. He had tried to keep most of the man’s body parts but the left knee had been so badly crushed that he had rather used a whole different limb than try and repair or exchange the joint. It would make for much smoother maintenance than having to deal with an inserted knee joint that was much more prone to infection or damage. The upper left arm had also been badly damaged in the accident that led to the man’s death - well, near-death. His brain waves had been declared too shallow to warrant any actual activity. The man had had no family, and no friends had come forward or visited. The man had carried a donor card, though, and so, with no one to protest, he had been quietly shuffled into Morpheus’ lab with little fanfare. Morpheus knew that what his employers did to obtain his materials wasn’t strictly legal but he tried not to think too much about it. He was being paid very handsomely to do his research, and not just in theory.

He was very satisfied with this new try. It was only his second finished work, having been commissioned after the Corinthian was a sounding success - well, mostly. He huffed and set about disinfecting the needle he had used to close up the throat of the man. His employers had had only one complaint about the Corinthian-

He talks too much, and he talks back. No need to include capacity for speech in the next one, Doctor.

Morpheus looked at the young man’s handsome face and sighed. “I would have liked to hear your voice. I’m sorry.”

He turned around and switched on the life support to see if everything ran smoothly. While he cleaned up the lab there was only the quiet whooshing sound of the respirator. He knew it took time for the subject to come back to life. He would probably have to use the defibrillator to really get it going-

A sudden loud beep from the heart monitor made him jump and turn around.

The man was sitting up and staring at him. He’d removed the respirator mask and slowly pulled off the ECG monitoring electrodes. His eyes were wide and milky, not yet able to see. It was a condition the Corinthian had never recovered from - in the end Morpheus had given him bionic eyes. With this new subject he had hope that the original eyes of the man whose body he had used would recover once a steady circulation had been achieved. (They had been the most gorgeous brown eyes Morpheus had ever seen after Calliope left him and he hadn’t been able to switch them for bionic ones straight from the start.)

“That was fast. Good- Good morning,” he said, stunned at the man’s fast return to waking. Morpheus grabbed his recorder and switched it on. “Subject 002, Working title “Hope”, Day 62 - subject has awoken after life support was activated. No respirator necessary, it seems. Subject is alert and- hey, hey, what are you doing? Take it easy!”

He dropped the recorder as the man suddenly stood up from the metal table and stepped towards him, only stumbling once on the unfamiliar leg. Before Morpheus could stop him the man had boxed him in against his lab desk. Morpheus felt several papers shuffled and bottles getting pushed over by his elbows as he tried to keep his distance but the man nearly crushed him against the edge of the table. He smiled down at Morpheus, unseeing eyes still focused on him, and hummed. Morpheus gasped, shocked at this unusual display of coordination and force so soon after waking up. He needed to keep up the subject’s emotional balance, he needed to give positive feedback to not induce a backlash or violent reaction to an unfamiliar situation. The Corinthian had taught him that.

“You’re, you’re doing really well. This- this is great. Very good,” he praised, heart hammering, trying his best to keep his voice low and soothing.

Subject 002, “Hope”, grinned happily.

#can I find endless ways to name Hob Hope? you bet #dreamling #the sandman fanart #the sandman fanfiction #monsterfucktoberbingo #hob gadling #dream of the endless #teejaystumbles #frankenstein au

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pigeonpeach · 4 months

Text

Puppy Love!

Diluc x fem!reader

Cw: none.

He’s been yearning from the start. When you were little and your father would bring you to the winery. He caught sight of you once as you stomped on the grapes. Laughing and giggling. Your smile caught his eye, sending unfamiliar emotions overwhelming his little brain making him panic. He thought he was dying!

He avoided you then. It took some prodding from Adelinde for him to finally open up about his symptoms. To which she couldn’t help but laugh. When his father came home he talked to Diluc about it. He explained that he was in love, that these feelings are normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

Crepus tried to encourage him not to stay stagnant, in the end you two became friends. Strangely the game he wanted to play most with you was house, and he insisted you were the mom and he the dad,Kaeya always as the baby. It was amusing for Crepus and Adelinde seeing him be so protective at such a young age.

Surprisingly though, even as you aged his feelings didn’t disappear. In fact it got worse. Now a young teenager, going through hormones and workouts, he strived to be big and strong so you would fawn over him as you did the other knights. He showed off more, even staying up doing curl ups in hopes he’d get the hardest abs known to men. Always trying to find some excuse to show off his strength when you were around. But now that you were older you figured out he liked you. You giggled and smiled in ways that drove him crazy on purpose. You wanted to beckon him to confess, you liked him too! But he kept putting it off. Deep down Diluc was scared of his love for you. But he promised he’d do it someday! He’d make you his, you two would be wed and bounded for eternity!

His 18th birthday wasn’t what he thought. Nor what you did. Everything changed. Everything. Kaeya suddenly avoided his home after Crepus’s death. He seemed distressed and frustrated. Jean seemed stressed out more than ever. You ended up getting closer to those two in that time. Sure you two played together but you had been busy learning a new trade. You had been studying and just received a acceptance letter from Sumeru. But you couldn’t share in your excitement, it felt wrong to. So you left saying goodbye to Kaeya and Jean.

You put all your energy into studying in Sumeru. You refused to think about Diluc and worry about him. You had wasted your life and childhood pinning for him, did he even love you afterall? Had your flirty advances been misguided. His change in confidence been a oversight? You were heartbroken in many ways. You were sad for Diluc, losing his father, confused about his relationship with Kaeya the brother he was stuck to like glue, and his sudden departure and withdrawal from the Knights. You dated in Sumeru, you wanted to distract yourself, wanted to bury those feelings. You socialized and made friends. You were admired greatly and loved sure but you had wanted it to be him deep down. Wanted him to finally say those words.

When you returned to Mondstadt things had also changed again. Of course you knew, Jean became Acting Grandmaster, Kaeya was now the Calvary Captain, and… Diluc was back? Now it was awkward between you two. He had a face so cold you wondered if he hated something as simple as breathing. It pained you to see him like this. So you focused your attention else were, putting your degree to good use in whatever. It also meant you didn’t visit the Winery much. You couldn’t really bare to go either, it was just too much for you.

Strangely Diluc didn’t seem to approach or even acknowledge you until he noticed a Fatui agent flirting with you one day. You weren’t too into it but hey you have needs too! The guy seemed to get too bold way too quickly. One night at Angel’s share you noticed him glaring him down as he chatted with you, until finally he got a bit rowdy when you said you didn’t feel good. Quickly said agent found himself thrown out upon the first protest out of his mouth.

“Are you okay?” Diluc asked as he walked back to you. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, there wasn’t too many guests tonight.

“Yes in fine. I just drank.. a bit much..” you said, your speech a little slurred. He seemed worried.

“Hold on let me get you something.” He said leaving briefly, he came back with water. “Drink, you’ll feel better.” You did so. Your cheeks were rosy, was it from the alcohol or him? Oh god when did he get so tall? He seemed so hot now! Not just because of his vision too.

“T-thanks. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” You said smiling.

“It was though. I noticed him taking out a vial and I had to get him out. I’ll make sure he never comes back in here.” Diluc spoke with such certainty then. That shaky overconfidence replaced with a more secure and strong voice. You couldnt help but oogle him.

“Do you think you could walk me home after this? I just want to make sure nothing bad happens.” You asked, your hand moved a inch closer to his as you drank some more water.

“Of course, you’ll have to wait till closing though. But I’m more than willing to escort you home.” He said with certainty. You couldn’t help but play with your hair a bit, maybe it was more than the alcohol making you feel more attracted to him, he was quite handsome in that jacket.. those gloves too.. and his arms!

“Of course of course. Although with the fatui being so… active maybe its best I avoid my house for now. Unfortunately the Hotel is all sold out.” You played up your distress noticing how his hair seemed to poof uo at the hint of your fear. As if he was ready to scoop you into his arms and carry you off. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking. But you spent genuine years and decades pining for him so you didn’t have much to lose now.

“You can stay at the Winery for tonight. Don’t worry about anything, Adelinde and I will work something out. We have plenty of guest rooms for you to stay in. I’m certain she’d also be glad to see you again.” He said, his face hid any emotions but his eyes gave him away. You realized he was far more expressive if you just focused on his fiery red eyes. He seemed excited to take you home, almost far too eager. You smiled the same smile that sent him falling head over heels all those years ago, chuckling slightly.

“Oh I’ve heard. I’ve just been too busy to visit. I trust she’s doing well right?” Carefully you moved your hand closer to his. You tried not to look at it but from the corner you could see only a little gap.

“She has been a bit annoyed recently. Apparently her two new hires aren’t too diligent and she often has to make them redo their tasks. She complains they gossip too much.” He says. You smile.

“Oh? Isn’t she a gossip herself?” You said recalling from memory how she loved to talk about the latest drama. Your finger stretched out to gently touch his. He seemed to stiffen.

“Yes but she says that she knows how to balance it. From what I’ve seen she’s right, they often just stand and chat alot. But what about you? I heard you went to Sumeru to study correct?” He asked, his hand moving away slightly making you annoyed.

“Well yeah. Honestly it was quite exhausting. And so pricey too! I ended up often having to forage for food more than i’d like and I ended up accidentally taking hallucinogenic mushrooms once because I didn’t bother to research what was edible and not.” You watched him smile. “But i did have some fun, I went on my first date.” You watched his smile fade as he seemed to grow jealous.

“Oh?” He said.

“Yeah, i had plenty of suitors then, a few nights here and there. It was nice. I’m not in anything committed right though.” You moved your hand closer, this time he didn’t move his. He seemed to be overthinking it. You spotted his brows furrowing.

“What about you? Have you dated anyone?” You asked. He shook his head. “Really?!” You couldn’t hold your surprise.

“Yes. Well I was a bit… busy doing other things.. but nowadays there just isn’t any one quite fit for me.” He said, he seemed to eye you though, you felt emboldened by this. Your hand moving ontop of his.

“If you wait too long you might pass up the opportunity.” You say with a wink. You could hardly believe this was the same man who once fell off his horse because he wanted to impress you. His other hand on yours.

“I-god you’re so beautiful.” He said as if he’d been holding that back for so long. You giggled.

“Really? I’m probably a mess right now. I didn’t really put much care into my appearance today.” You say dismissively.

“No no no. You’re stunning. You’ve always been so beautiful. I just… sometimes it feels like I can’t take my eyes off of you.” He admits. You blush, is finally going to confess?

Unfortunately he seems to get cold feet. Clearing his head and pulling away as he clears his throat. You get annoyed, just how long is planning on waiting here?!

“I-its late. I should start closing.” He says. You sigh defeatedly.

“I understand. Just don’t keep me waiting for too long otherwise I’ll just wander out myself.” You say. He stopped then.

“Actually there is something I’ve been meaning to ask.” He says pausing. You shot straight up In excitement. “I’d like to get dinner with you if that’s alright.” He said. You smiled, his eyes looking upon you with such love. You knew his plan as he finally got the courage.

“Lets make it a date shall we?” You said teasingly. He blushed.

“I-uh… if you would like to sure.” He said nervously smiling. You stood up to his level and pressed a kiss to his cheek boldly. “O-oh i didn’t realize you were this into me.”

“Buddy, you’ve been stringing me along for years now. You aren’t going to get all shy on me now.” You said gently patting his cheek.

“I-i feel like a idiot now.. if i had known you had felt the same I could’ve avoided so much heartbreak.” He sighed as it all came down on him. “Wait… why didn’t you confess then?”

“I wanted you to! I thought you would look the cutest all flustered and stammering!” You said.

“I would not have been that nervous.”

“You are right now.” You smile smugly.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #domestic fluff #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnivindr x you #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc fluff #diluc is a fucking idiot

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 7 months

Text

the post-ruin Readerbot AU, where Readerbot wakes up from a nice lil nap to. Well. Ruin. And two new,, friends?

You were in a charging stasis during the events of Security Breach and were trapped there until the events of Ruin, completely unaware of what's happened. You remember the animatronics beginning to act oddly, and, of course, Moon, and maybe a weird security guard, but waking up to the 'Plex in shambles, the Glamrocks far beyond broken, and not a single human person in sight... That's a bit jarring, to say the least.

The very first thing you are greeted with upon powering on is, of course, a couple thousand error codes and 'emergency repair' alerts that have just been waiting for you to turn on to bombard you with a nice helping of sensory overload <3 The next? A mini musicman running at you full speed, not slowing down or swerving, hitting you directly in the shins and knocking you flat on your ass. Congrats! Your head has been re-broken. Welcome back to the pizza-plex, bitch. :)

You wander around the 'plex, too confused and shocked by the, y'know, everything, to even begin to think about what they should panic over first. You cross paths with Chica, who doesn't even acknowledge you, and Monty, who only growls as you pass by, then... You stop in your tracks. Technically, you've never been in the daycare, it was always off-limits. But a lot of your old protocols have expired... And you've always been curious...

You barely step into the ruined-daycare before nearly being knocked over by a familiar, and equally as unfamiliar, attendant.

Eclipse assumes you are there to help clean up the daycare! And he's so polite, and he reminds you a lot of Sun, with a little of Moon's mischievousness (this, admittedly, is much more harmless than Moon's had been, but the comparison is still there)...

Y- yeah of course you're there to help! Just lead the way!!

Eclipse seems extremely relieved to have someone to talk to- he must not be used to being on his own?- and, really, he ends up not... letting you do much. He doesn't want you to wear yourself out, and that's much to heavy to ask you to carry, and what if something fell or broke and you got damaged?? Management hasn't been answering any messages yet, who knows how long it would be until they could get you fixed properly!! :( (Mostly you just stand there and nod as he talks, or maybe holding something small and unimportant while he does the actual work. It's... endearing, but your inner staffbot is restless and sad at having nothing to do.)

Eventually, you come up with a compromise- you'll be his emotional support assistant while he works on fixing up the daycare, in the mean time, you'll fix the electrical issues and patch him up as you find more and more materials to do so. He seems pleased enough, and, you realize after a while, starts to really like being fixed up.

Then, one day, while scavenging around, you find a busted arcade cabinet. You go to take a look to see if it has anything worth repurposing, and the next thing you know you're waking up on the floor in front of cabinet as it smolders and melts. Well, there wasn't likely to be anything worth taking, anyway.

You realize later that you've picked up a sort of... virus. It's more like you picked up another passenger, a new voice to live inside your own head when before there had been just yours.

He's... strange. It takes him a little while to realize that you can hear him and respond to his voice, but when he does, he seems pleased. He's not exactly a chatterbox in the same way Eclipse is, but he has lots of questions and lots of ideas. The only issue is, well, to be honest, they aren't very good.

It surprises you, the first time he tells you to do something. "Push him over the edge," he demands as you stand behind Eclipse on top of one of the taller structures in the daycare. It wouldn't decommission him, but it would surely break at least one of his limbs. No, no, that was a bad idea, you thought to yourself. "But he's always been more loved than you, hasn't he? Don't you just want to see him suffer even just a fraction as much as you have over these years? Don't you want to break him to a dozen little, helpless pieces?"

Well, no, not really.

"Fine. Have it your way. One of these days, he's going to hurt you, just as he did before. And you're going to WISH you had listened to me."

When you finally got to the point of realizing this other voice WAS an entire other AI currently residing in the slim gaps yours left behind, one of the first things you did was ask him what he was called. It seemed only polite, after all.

"Eclipse."

Huh. That was going to get confusing.

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jazeswhbhaven · 2 months

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Could I request where the kings+ Lucifer (and maybe the seraphims too?) have an s/o who is just like deeply in love with them? Their s/o just can't describe it in words, they can't fully show it in actions no matter how tight their hug is to the kings, but it's always seen in their eyes that they do in fact love the kings.

Everytime their s/o is talking to someone or some devil, they're just there. They do listen, but they don't smile. If they do, it's just a polite, little smile, but that's it. BUT, when it comes to them, suddenly their s/o's smile widens and their cheeks turn into this slight rosy pink color and their eyes especially shows how happy they are. Their s/o's eyes when they smile, they have this smile where their eyes smiles along with their lips (I think it's called eye smile, I'm not so sure).

Sometimes they even get caught where there's someone talking and their s/o is just paying attention to them and to their features. Their s/o just looks at them with heart eyes at this point 😭

So sorry if this request doesn't make much sense!!

Awh sounds like their s/o is their number one fan <3 (thank you for your patience!!) Let's start with the seraphim, because hopefully in a perfect AU, they'd actually care about their s/o's. Michael: Normally, he doesn't care about anyone or anything in Heaven other than God, but since he's left...he's been anxious and stand-offish. But when he goes to Earth to visit his s/o he's calm, he doesn't even cry as much. He loves to see the look on their face when he enters the room, how happy they look, how their eyes light up and their arms reach out toward him. "I've been waiting for you" is their normal greeting. He loves it more than he's willing to admit. He's a bit possessive of those faces that they make, so he doesn't want to share them, they all belong to him. They're happy to see him, to love him. All that's what he'll take.

Gabriel: No one is above God, not even himself. But there is one person who he cares to see often. Their devotion to living as close to Godly as they can, and how they wish for God's return for his sake. Gabe is unfamiliar with how much his s/o pines for him. He tries his best to acknowledge their admiration, the way that they smile, laugh, and always mention him even to others with such a dazed expression it's clear that they're obsessed. Even though it's a learning curve for this one-track-minded angel, he wants his s/o to keep showing this amount of energy toward him, that way maybe together his and their love can bring back God.

Raphael: Surprisingly, you'd think that this angel would be disgusted by having an s/o but somewhere along the way, his mind changed. He visits them often, he's pining just as much as they are. He doesn't show it when he's in Heaven, still off-putting, a pain in the ass to be around. But with his s/o? They're melting into each other, he wants them to make those faces when he arrives, the same way, each time. In intimacy, he wants to see their blushing face, the way they say his name, everything fuels him more and more. "So this is what it's like to be loved..."

Now for our demon bois!!! <3 <3

Satan: There's nothing he loves more than his s/o only having certain reactions and emotions toward him. He encourages this each time and makes it worse by teasing them lightly, saying how much he loves it when they make that 'face' or how they blush when they see him. "Do I work you up that much?" And he know he does. When he sees his s/o being uninterested when talking with other devils he feels a sense of pride and an ego boost.

Mammon: He drinks up this behavior from his s/o so much he's always overfilled with joy himself when he sees them. His favorite thing is when his s/o is casually speaking to one of his nobles and he just happens to pass by and they immediately stop talking and rush to him to hug him and say they miss him and hurry and finish his work. Every time that happens, he finds a way to finish up everything or just scoops up his s/o and takes them with him and they're amazed by everything he does.

Beelzebub: If you thought Amon was the biggest Beel simp, make way for his s/o. They may not have little trinkets or posters of him, but they have him. The real deal! Sometimes, they'll even put themselves into situations so he appears, always saying "I just wanted to see you, I miss you." Beel loves this about them, and to the point where he starts staying behind in Avisos more often. And when he's not there, no one is free from his s/o blabbing about him all the time. In fact, Amon hangs around them pretty much all the time to hear more stories about Beel and what his s/o likes about him.

Leviathan: Oh, he loves the fuck out of his s/o because all they do is talk about him. No one is Hades is free from his s/o's rambles. They run errands for him, and could be held up in the store in hours explaining why they chose a pair of socks for Levi. They stitch his name in them too when they get home, they stare at him quite often and blush when he catches them staring. He used to stare at them blankly, but now he smirks and walks away, knowing they're still staring at him in awe as he does.

Lucifer: This kind of love is foreign to him, and he doesn't think much of it when his s/o dotes on him like they do. They're always wrapping up his bloodied wings, or making sure his fangs and horn are tip-top in shape. They often bring Morax and Marbas around to check up on his other areas of health out of worry when he's just fine. He doesn't feel lonely anymore with his s/o's presence, even when they're not in the same room, he can hear them speaking about how much they love him and are lucky to be his. Almost makes him want to cry...almost.

#whb #jwhbasks❓#whb beelzebub #whb leviathan #whb satan #whb mammon #whb kings👑#whb lucifer #whb gabriel #whb raphael #whb michael #they have an s/o that loves them so much it's crazy

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pathetic-sapphic · 6 months

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i saw that requests are open!! i was wondering if you could write about simp!sevika headcanons but she also hides her emotions cause she gets embarrassed when reader found out, reader would not stop teasing her about it

btw love ur work! keep up the great writing!! <3

Simp Sevika Headcanons

It took a lot to stir the heart of Zaun's scary lady. Sevika wasn't known for letting herself slip into romantic endeavors, preferring to simply visit the brothel whenever she needed to blow off some steam and let out her frustrations.

However, she couldn't help but notice your pretty face once you started frequenting the Last Drop. You always sat alone at the bar, sipping your regular order before paying and leaving. In a place full of rugged and loud people, you stood out like a sore thumb, especially with your calm and gentle demeanor.

Sevika preferred watching you from afar, not knowing how to approach you properly. It wasn't until a drunk man sat next to you and started flirting that she decided to take action. At first, she perked up when she noticed his presence next to you and kept an eye on the situation while appearing uninterested and absorbed in her card game.

However, once she noticed the man getting handsy with you, trying to wind an arm around your shoulders, Sevika couldn't take it anymore. She promptly stomped towards where you stood and pushed the guy off of you, kicking him out of the bar when he refused to leave you alone.

Once the drunkard was dealt with, Sevika made her way back to you to make sure you were alright. When you thanked her with a bright smile, it was as if her heart stirred for the first time in years. She tried to keep her cool and made sure to tell you that it was no problem.

You insisted on buying her a drink as a thanks, and how could Sevika ever refuse someone so cute and pretty?

With this, the two of you began your friendship. But for the both of you, it quickly blossomed into something more. However, Sevika had no idea you felt the same, and so she spent her days feeling like a lovesick teenager all over again.

It is no lie that she is an incredibly charming woman, who oozes with charisma when she's interested in someone. But she has little to no experience when it comes to romantic relationships, although she tries her best (bless her little lovesick heart).

Sevika brings you flowers, invites you to her apartment (you were the first and only person to ever step foot in it) and cooks for you, she walks you home when it's late at night, pays compliments to your outfits, and so on.

Basically, she does literally everything except confessing her feelings for you.

She is unsure whether you see her actions towards you as mere friendliness (though let's be honest, no one looks at their friends the way Sevika looks at you. Hell, most people don't even look at their spouses like that) and she doesn't want to ruin what you have now.

Sevika is deeply unfamiliar with being vulnerable and putting her feelings into words. She is much more accustomed to showing her adoration through actions but quickly realizes she must tell you out loud lest she'll burst from all of these confusing feelings that are bubbling up inside of her (seriously, she's too old to be feeling all these 'butterflies in her stomach').

So, the next time you come over for dinner, she prepares her confession. But before that, she gets you a fresh bouquet of flowers and decorates the dining table in a manner that can't be seen as anything but romantic.

Once the two of you eat, she walks over to your side of the table and gets on her knees in front of you as you're sitting in the chair. She takes your hands in hers and stutters through her confession, avoiding your gaze the whole time.

You never thought that someone so gruff could be so cute. You could feel the apprehension and anxiety in the way Sevika talked, as if she expected you to reject her at any moment.

Once she admits her feelings, Sevika patiently waits for the teasing or the rejection, but it never comes. Instead, you cup her face and gently lean in to kiss her.

Sevika hums into the kiss, sighing happily when the two of you pull away. This is the happiest she's felt in years and realizes that sometimes it pays off to be vulnerable.

Oh well, you live and you learn, and Sevika is more than ready to do both as long as she has you by her side.

#arcane #arcane x reader #sevika x reader #arcane sevika #arcane headcanons #sevika headcanon

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harlowcomehome · 3 months

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Our first place:

Series link!

It had been two months since you and Jack had moved in together, and more than half of your things were still in boxes. You were growing increasingly frustrated feeling like you were losing track of what box held specific items.

Your Christmas tree was still up despite it being weeks past and you felt overwhelmed by the disarray of your apartment. Jack wasn’t a slob by any means but he definitely made the place look more “lived in” than you.

You couldn’t blame him for the mess and it wasn’t your fault either, life had been a whirlwind for the both of you. Spending most nights in another state, another hotel, and still trying to have some form of privacy.

Jack had been nominated for two Grammy awards, was featured on the cover of Forbes magazine and was also awarded with hitmaker of tomorrow with Variety.

The celebrations and jet-setting rarely stopped, making your head continuously spin.

Fans grew suspicious of the new woman on his team, suddenly traveling everywhere with him and overanalyzing every glance you’d make at one another. The two of you giggled as you scrolled through Reddit posts and Twitter posts. Never confirming or denying it felt more organic, letting this just be.

The talks of making a big move about going public with your relationship were quickly swept under the rug, and the pressure felt less intense now that you were touring with him and traveling full-time together.

Christmas was hectic, having spent half your time in Kentucky and the other half bringing Jack back home for the first time. It was beyond overwhelming. Your family gravitated toward him and fell in love with him quickly, seeing the glimmer in your eyes as you looked at him was enough for them to know this was in fact the real deal.

However, since getting home from your trip you felt a disconnect between the two of you, an unspoken distance. Neither of you wanted to touch the subject and it was giving you an unfamiliar ache in your chest. You were finally at your breaking point, feeling out of control was never your strong suit.

The front door of your place opened and Jack came barreling inside with Urban, Copelan, and his producer Angel. The three of them bounced final ideas off one another, as you gave them a limp wave and rushed to hide in the bedroom.

Jack immediately sensed your discomfort, leaving the guys to the living room to eat lunch as he followed you into the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

The sound of your audible sobs stopped him in his tracks, a wave of immediate guilt came over him. The sight of you sitting on the carpeted floor of your walk-in closet broke his heart.

“Fuck- baby. Talk to me” he kneeled, holding you as you cried into his chest. You didn’t know how to begin, or where to start explaining because right now it felt like everything was wrong, every single thing.

You coughed, trying to catch your breath, embarrassed that you had reacted this intensely, embarrassed you now had an audience, and mortified he had to excuse himself to pick up the pieces.

“You’re going to make yourself sick. Let’s try breathing exercises, okay?” He pulled you away to look at you, his blue eyes filled with emotion too. He helped you take deep breaths, sitting with you as you tried to regain composure.

Urban sent him a quick text, letting him know they were leaving to his place that was just down the street, having been able to tell immediately that you were upset.

“After we took that trip to Kentucky, I feel like everything between us has been off. I feel like you’re being distant and the apartment is always in shambles. “ You shrugged trying to hold back tears “I’m overwhelmed and I feel like I’m walking on eggshells because your career is everything to you, and I get that! I do!” Your voice was heightened, growing emotional and defensive again.

He blinked away his instinctive frustrations having heard that last sentence. “My career is important to me. You’re right but it’s not everything. It’s not everything to me. You are, this is” he grabbed your warm hands, kissing them as he held them in his.

“Then talk to me? What’s going on in there?” You sniffled, lightly tapping on his head playfully making the tension dissipate as you both chuckled.

He sat down more comfortably on the ground, leaning against the wall as he motioned for you to come sit with him. You scooted closer as he spread his legs for you to sit between them, facing him.

He was working on becoming more vulnerable, something he found difficult with most people but you made it easier, lighter even.

“This next album is going to change things for us. Being home put a lot into perspective and-“ he sighed, still worried about your reaction to what he wanted to say.

“Talk to me, I’m listening” You brushed his beard with your fingers, comforting him and encouraging him to continue.

“I know we just moved in together, and I know we still haven’t settled in completely so what I want to say sounds selfish and I don’t want you to think that every move we make is because I want to make it” he leaned his head back against the wall behind him.

“You want to move to Kentucky?” You knew he did, without the words being spoken yet. You saw the way he just better fit there, he belonged. Having spent Christmas with his family, seeing how he loved everyone so loudly just made sense.

“I want us to move to Kentucky but I just feel like that’s insane right?” he looked at you with widened eyes, worried you were misunderstanding the direction of the conversation.

“We should move” you smiled, leaning in to give him a soft peck on the lips.

“But what about? And we just-“ he couldn’t finish a complete thought completely taken aback at your response. “I’m sorry, hold on. What the fuck?” He laughed almost uncontrollably making you lean into him and laugh too, eventually leaning your cheek against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I feel like moving to Kentucky makes the most sense and I want you to be happy” you sighed, pulling back to gauge his response as you searched for emotion in his eyes.

“I don’t want my happiness to mean you’re unhappy” his bottom lip quivered as he tried to bite back a layer of emotion he had been suppressing.

“I think you’ve done all you can do in Atlanta. I know I’ll need to adjust but I can and will- I just want to be where you are” You kissed his slightly pink freckled nose.

“I can probably find someone to cover this lease” he shrugged, thinking about all his connections in Atlanta. “That's not my worry though, sweetheart are we good?” He motioned between the two of you, his main focus.

The pet name “sweetheart” rolled off his tongue naturally as if that was your given name. You nodded, a deep breath of relief escaping the both of you.

“Yes, besides kentucky seems like a good place to raise some kids” you teased knowing he’d like the sound of that as you played with his intertwined fingers.

“Don’t turn me on- i’ll give us one to raise right now” he chuckled knowing there was no truth to it.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep” You rasped as you cupped his face, pressing your soft lips against his. Your tongue was able to slip in, your fingers getting lost in his curls as the intensity heightened, making for a very relieving evening.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #Jack Harlow fanfic

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haphazardlyannotated · 1 year

Text

Steven Universe told from the perspective of other characters

Garnet: A story of gay empowerment from start to finish. As a book it would be titled either Made of Love or Stronger Than You and feature Garnet's gauntlets with her wedding rings on them as cover art.

Amethyst: A seemingly wacky coming of age story that drops the most heartfelt moments when your guard is down. The cover resembles kids' detective stories, the kind where the whole gang is looking around for clues to the mystery.

Pearl: Everything up to Rose's death is an ancient literary classic titled The Ballad of Rose Quartz, illustrated with intricate inkbrush paintings. Steven Universe season one to three is the kind of introspective life after tragedy novel you pick up to look sophisticated reading. It's probably titled Without Her or something similiar. I don't have a title for season four and onwards, but the blurb is "it's not easy to manage twenty girlfriends, two life partners, a son and a dark past at the same time!" It's much more lighthearted than the previous two, but still prone to punching you in the emotions with little warning.

Connie: A magical adventure series just like the Unfamiliar Familiar! It centers Steven the magical boy with his best friend and eventual love interest Connie as the female lead. The tone gets a little darker after the first book/season, but less so than the original Steven Universe (let alone Steven Universe Future).

Greg: First a coming of age story, but unlike Amethyst this one is about breaking away from toxic people in your life. This story gets its happy ending when Greg finally finds someone he can be himself with in Rose. The time until Rose's death is a romantic comedy titled My Girlfriend, her Girlfriend and Me and conists mostly of shenanigans. After Rose's death and Steven's birth, it turns into something more bittersweet centering Greg's worries about being an adequate father to his magical son.

Peridot: It's titled How I learned to stop worrying and join the Rebellion and is easily the most lighthearted installment here. Our dorky protagonist is very obviously a somewhat unreliable narrator, but in a funny way. She encounters a few struggles, but they are quickly overcome with the power of friendship.

Lapis: This is just multiple whump fics. They're in a collection titled Bad Things Happen Roulette. Steven Universe the Movie is a pretty standard fantasy adventure with a group of powerful heroes though, and Steven Universe Future is the fluff fic with a smidge of angst you'd read as a pick me up after Bad Things Happen Roulette.

Bismuth: The war is a good vs evil sci-fi story with lots of social commentary. The Diamonds are definitely irredeemable here. I don't know what to do with the few episodes of the original Steven Universe she was in, but the movie is an empowerment narrative against systemic oppression titled Still Standing, or something in that style. Steven Universe Future however is a romantic comedy.

Rose: This is just a straight (well, bi) up tragedy. Our protagonist desperately tries to recover from her childhood trauma and be a good person, but is ultimately unable to escape the prison of her own mind. The book wins several literature prizes, but very few people actually read it because it's just too depressing.

#su #steven universe #su garnet #su amethyst #su pearl #connie maheswaran #su peridot #su lapis #su bismuth #su rose quartz #garnet #amethyst #pearl #peridot #lapis #bismuth #rose quartz

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little-diable · 8 months

Text

I Remember Everything - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Written for my lovely @runnning-outof-time - I hope this is what you had in mind with this story. Inspired by Zach Bryan's song "I Remember Everything". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy only smiles when he gets to drink, (y/n) only dares to marvel at her best friend when he’s distracted. A rising sun and moments shared since childhood days finally bring the two closer together.

Warnings: 18+, piv smut, quite soft smut, friends to lovers, some angst because of family troubles, mentions that the reader didn’t have an easy past but nothing specific

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 2.5k words)

An eerie silence wrapped itself around the two. His piercing eyes kept staring at the almost empty glass of his, trying to burn holes into the shards that could easily cut his aching heart. She wanted to speak up, wanted to break through the silence that grew thicker like soldiers moving closer with their unbreakable shield wall, but she couldn’t.

She watched him pour alcohol down his throat, one glass after another, desperately trying to drown his pain, his guilt, his anger in one of the devil’s finest creations. Her mouth was dry, throat tight, unable to speak to the man she longed for, desperately trying to soothe his pain.

It had always been like this, ever since they’ve been young children. He’d keep his every sorrow bottled in, relying on his closest friend to take away the pain he couldn’t get rid of without her help. Tommy Shelby was a good man, a man with a pure heart and too much blood sticking to his fingers, but Tommy Shelby was also a blind man, an overly oblivious man, not seeing through the pain (y/n) had to carry around with herself, unable to rely on the friend who could only worry about his business.

Whenever the ship he was sailing through uneasy waters was close to sinking, wood soaked through like the fabric tied to the high mast, she’d sail next to him, dragging him through every storm he found himself trapped in. Though while he mistook it for simple coincidences, allowing her to turn up whenever he needed him, she grew more uneasy by the minute, wondering how much longer she’d be able to keep up this charade.

“You see, Tommy.” She cleared her throat, fingers interlaced in her lap as if she was about to start praying. “You know by now that I’ll do whatever I can to help you, that’s what you called me here for after all, I guess. But I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened.”

A humourless laugh left the man who forced yet another cigarette between his lips, lips (y/n) found herself aching for whenever she got the time to marvel at the handsome man. Fuck, she wished she didn’t remember every moment on the days and nights she spent with him, and yet she couldn’t get rid of them, forced into her memories like the languages she had once been forced to learn, speaking them all too effortlessly by now.

“Do you remember how we’d sneak out at night to watch the sunrise?” Her soft voice filled the room once again, finally managing to force a smile onto his lips. To others it was an unfamiliar sight, Tommy Shelby wasn’t one to smile around others, wasn’t one to give away the emotions he found himself guided by, but with her it had always been different, with her it had always been transparent, well, besides the emotions both fostered for one another, unable to act on them. “Come.”

(Y/n) rose to her feet, hand stretched out for Tommy to take. It took him a moment to rise to his feet, cigarettes and alcohol long forgotten as she guided him out into the cold night. No words were spoken as he wrapped his arm around her middle, keeping her close in an almost too protective matter. Her heart pounded in her chest, a tad bit too fast, and yet slow enough to keep the way he made her feel hidden from his sharp gaze and his curious ears.

Both knew the route to that one empty house by heart, they’d always find their way to it, no matter where in the city they were staying at. But today both didn’t walk with fast steps, no, today they took their time, not wanting to let the passing by seconds turn into minutes and hours all too quickly.

“I’ve always wondered how you could so easily trust and help people you meet. It’s like a gift, a talent I can’t help but be jealous of.” Tommy’s soft voice cut through the fog of silence, tightening his grip on (y/n) as her eyes met his. The sounds of their steps echoed through the night, through the almost empty streets they’ve been waking for years. “You’ve been hurt, beaten, and abused. I’ve once sworn that I’ll kill whoever dares to touch you, and yet you managed to forgive them, each and every one of them. How?”

“Who is it, Tommy? What happened?” The two came to a halt in front of the old brick house as he let go of her to push his weight against the wooden door. It took him a few tries to finally open it, allowing them to step into the dark house. Tommy ignored her question, keeping quiet as they walked up the stairs, one by one, climbing higher like lost souls walking the stairs to a new life. But nothing new was awaiting the two up there, nothing but a still somewhat dark sky.

“You know, you’ve changed a lot, you’ll never be the man that you always swore, Tommy, but I know you’re no stranger to forgiveness. I think you’re afraid of it, whatever it is that plagues your mind.” The two entered the roof - with another cigarette placed between his lips and his fingers aching for yet another glass, Tommy walked closer to the edge of the familiar ground. She watched the smoke leave his nostrils, blown into the night like the lives he had taken over the past years, rising numbers that evaporated into the thin air, forgotten names and fates they no longer recalled.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, not when you know that you’re being betrayed, not when you know that those you should trust the most are trying to sell your life to the highest bidder.” A sharp inhale of the cold air was sucked into (y/n)’s lungs, arms wrapped around herself as she stepped closer to him. With her eyes set on the horizon, on the rising sun, she placed her chin on his shoulder, not daring to move. For a few more moments they cherished the quietness, watching the sky turn into the rawest colours known to humankind.

Tommy’s hand found hers, resting on his shoulder like it had done numerous times before. Slowly he turned towards (y/n), hand finding her chin to keep her eyes on him. (Y/n) always felt naked beneath his gaze, trying to cover up as if she was scared that her body would tell him all about the love she fostered for him. But Tommy didn’t give her the chance to move, thumb softly stroking her cold skin.

Both couldn’t help but ache for one another, though keeping quiet - even as (y/n) nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. His hand found the back of her head, softly stroking her hair, eyes focused on the orange sky. Whenever he had found the strength to speak up, he had begged (y/n) to stay around till the sun would rise, needing to hold her close like a life vest meant to save him. She was everything he wished he didn’t ache for but desperately did.

“I love you, Tommy. No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, making his eyes flutter close at the unexpected gesture.

“Don’t make promises like that, (y/n). I’m no good friend, I’m selfish for keeping you around, but you’re the only good thing keeping me sane.” (Y/n) pushed him away to get a look at his features, all too used to the pain swimming in Tommy's bright pupils. She cupped his face with both hands, keeping the man close as she shook her head, wondering how she could explain to him that he was all she needed.

“We both know that’s not true, you’re my best friend, I’d die for you in a heartbeat, and I know you’d do the same for me.” Tommy gently pushed her hands away, eyes fluttering close for a second before a scoff left him. His hand rubbed his tired eyes, trying to hold back the words that no longer could be stopped from rolling off his tongue.

“Best friend, fuck, I wish that’d be enough for me, but it no longer is. I’ve been stupid, keeping my mouth shut for your own sake, but everything is burning around me, what loss will it be if I add more fuel to the flames, eh?” She didn’t understand what he was talking about, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted. With dilated pupils (y/n) watched him step closer once again, cupping her cheek with one hand, while the other found her neck.

His warm breath clashed against her tingling lips, wondering what he was about to do. They didn’t break eye contact, wondering who’d start moving first. (Y/n) felt her heart pounding, racing in her chest as her mind slowly began to realise what was about to happen. His lips found hers, kissing (y/n) slowly to give her the chance to pull away should she want to escape from this moment. But she didn’t, she was frozen to the ground, lips moving in sync with Tommy’s.

The sky looked as if it was burning, the flames kept rising higher, setting their bodies ablaze with its strength. Their moans rippled through them, echoing through the early morning like shots being fired in the distance. Tommy tasted of cigarettes, of the alcohol he had forced down his throat an hour ago, while (y/n) tasted of home, of a feeling so unfamiliar Tommy found himself addicted within moments.

Both broke the kiss with aching lungs, needing to catch their breath as he pressed his forehead against hers. Neither Tommy nor (y/n) dared to speak up, relishing in one another’s touch. Their bodies moved them down the stairs of the house, into the morning, with interlaced fingers and intertwined souls. He guided her back through the streets, finding their way to her apartment, to the home she had bought years ago and couldn’t dare to think of parting from it ever again.

“Tommy?” (Y/n) whispered his name as they shrugged out of their coats and stepped out of their shoes, finding back together at the first chance to move. “What does this mean?" She gestured between the both of them, staring at Tommy as if he was God himself, about to answer her every question. "I love you, but I can’t just be an easy distraction for you.”

“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to express with words, with gifts, with gestures. You’re my home, (y/n). I once swore to always protect you, eh? I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He kissed her once again, allowing her gleeful chuckles to vibrate on his lips as she guided him into her bedroom, begging Tommy to show her how much he loved her, needing to feel him close.

“You’ll be the death of me, Tommy Shelby, what would my mother say when she’d see us like this?” His skilled fingers popped open the buttons of her dress one by one, letting the dark fabric fall to the ground as he pushed it down her shoulders.

“She’d force me to come to church with her, she’d wash my hands with holy water and would try to hide me away from your father. I'd probably be shipped off to some monastery, forced to become a priest. My eternal punishment for blemishing her daughter's soul.” (Y/n)‘s loud laugh echoed through her bedroom, a sound that was swallowed by her moans seconds later as he kissed her neck, pulling her into his chest. Her fingers started moving, freeing him of his vest, his shirt, and his trousers. Both were in a hurry to get one another naked, not wanting to give the fabrics keeping them apart any more time to distract them.

“Make me yours, forever.” Her sultry voice left the man groaning, pushing her down on her bed as he crawled up her frame, nestling between her thighs. Their kiss grew hungrier, sloppier as his hand moved down her frame, stroking her breasts, teasing her hardening nipples before he finally found her aching core. She was soaked, dripping for the man who found himself smiling down on her. It was unfamiliar to her, seeing him smile without any alcohol near, and yet (y/n) couldn’t help but pray that she’d get to see this smile more often from now on.

“I’ve always wondered if I’d eventually get to see you like this, bare for me, for my eyes only. But this is better than I could have ever imagined.” Tommy’s praises left her gasping, eyes fluttering close as he circled her clit with his fingers, making her hyperaware of his every touch.

“Need you inside of me, Tommy, please. We’ve wasted too much time already.” A hum left him as he let go of her, pumping his cock for a few seconds before he spat down on it, lubing himself up. With one of her arms finding it’s way around his neck and her legs clinging to his waist, Tommy allowed himself to push into her, slowly, carefully.

Her walls pulsed around him, begging him to build a comfortable rhythm. Their bodies met with every thrust, pushed closer and closer together as they shared the love they felt without any words being spoken. Their bodies perfectly moved together, pushing them higher and higher with every thrust, with every moment where he pressed against her swollen spot, with every circling motion around her pulsing bundle of nerves.

Neither of them had ever experienced something this raw, something this full of emotions, something this intimate. No matter how many times they’ve been touched by lovers, strangers, and those they no longer could remember, it had never been this intense, this raw, this exciting.

“You’re so big, stretching me so good, don’t ever stop Tommy, don’t ever let me go, keep me forever.” Her whispers were torn between sobs and moans, a sound so beautiful Tommy wanted to record it, to keep it stored in his memories like the first time he had heard his son laugh. His lips found hers, sealing the promise with a loving kiss.

His pace grew rougher, chasing both their arising highs, set on pushing one another over the edge within the next moments. (Y/n) gave in first, eyes rolling back into her head, forcing her fingernails to scratch at his skin, leaving marks down his muscular back. He kept fucking her, forcing his cock to disappear deeper and deeper inside of her till his orgasm clawed through him, painting her walls white.

“I love you.” Her words left him smiling, letting go of her to reach for a tissue. Tommy took his time with cleaning her up before he pulled her into his chest, cradling her closer and closer.

“I’ll get you a ring in the afternoon.” She froze in his grasp, confused eyes flickering up to his. An almost boyish grin stuck to his lips, tilting his head down to kiss her slightly swollen lips. “You want forever, and I promise to give it to you, even if it’s the last promise I’ll be able to keep.”

I wish I didn't, but I do, remember every moment on the nights with you

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Peaky blinders imagine

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literally-noone83 · 6 months

Text

Something Childish

Geto×Reader Nanami×Reader

Warning: None.

Word count: Short.

a/n: Trying to keep my pieces smaller, my ideas more manageable (I have about a thousand unfinished works). Anyways, just some unrequited love, babies. My fav. Enjoy babes.

"Wha- Nanamin?!"

"Wait seriously??"

"You like-"

You slap your hand over Gojo's big mouth.

"Could you say that any louder?" you hiss at him.

Like a child whispering gossip at the playground he repeats himself, "You have a crush on Nanamin?"

You tsk your tongue at him, shoving his face back with your whole hand. His piss-poor attempt to lower his voice make your cheeks flush and your brows pinch in frustration.

"What? It's not like he's gonna hear us." Gojo argues, glancing at the convenient store across from them. You three stood by the bared rail that separated ongoing city goers and the busy roads of Tokyo. You gripped at it tightly, refusing to look at either of Geto or Gojo that caged you, or towards the door of the store you knew Nanami and Haibura were in buying snacks.

"He could come out at any moment"

Geto was silent. He noticed the way you swayed, the way you looked so nervous. You were never this nervous, not even on missions.

"Or hear your big mouth from a mile away"

"I can't believe you like emo boy-"

You smack his arm. "Don't call him that"

Your defence for Nanami wasn't unfamiliar. You often stood up for him, as you did for anybody who was teased or judged. Under new light of information, the boys looked to see it was affection. A sudden feeling of stupidity washes over Geto, he should've known.

"Do you... really like him?" He asked.

"No- Yes, I mean... maybe?" You let out a curt sigh, "I don't know, I've liked him for a while..."

Your two best friends glanced at each other before gazing back down to you, they were thinking the same thing.

Geto began gently, warry of your sensitivity. "How come-"

"And you never told us??" Gentleness goes amiss with Gojo, as his questions is more accusing than worried.

"I- it just never came up ok?! Its not like you guys tell me your crushes or- or any arising infactuations"

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't" You throw an incredulous look at the white haired deliquent. Geto quietly sighs.

"Yes I do! I tell you all my fancies." He crosses his arms.

"You tell me girls you think are hot, not girls you like, dimwit, there's a difference."

"Ok maybe I dont get crushes- but I'm sure Suguru does!" He throws his hands at Geto, and you glance at him. Geto blinks, his face flushing slightly.

"Oh stop it! Jeez when did you guys become to invested in my love life?" You leant on the rail once more in resignation.

"Uh when you started liking one of our friends, fucking Nanamin"

"Saturou"

"What?"

Geto shoots him a silently reprimanding look Gojo knew a little too well. He relents with an eye roll, begrudgingly turning away from you to lean his back on the metal. Geto's gaze softens as he refocuses on you, silence finally settling upon them.

He hears you groan into your arms, evidently regretting ever telling them.

Seeing you this riled up was new. This stressed over a crush of all things he never knew you'd have. Not that he thought you weren't capable of having one, you have feels and emotions, you're a human being, of course at some point you'd like someone, anyone it's just-

Geto blinked away his thoughts. Its just... Crushes felt childish, and you were everything but. You were always pragmatic on missions, meticulous and calculating when it came to every plan and every detail, you scoffed at nearly every romance Gojo tried forcing you to watch with him, you had these walls up; ones that only came down around them. Around him. Because that was just how you were, but here you are, getting embarrassed over something as simple as a crush and Geto couldn't help but feel sympathy.

He places a hand on you shoulder.

"Hey... you know you can tell us these things right? I mean you don't have to but..." Geto lowered his head just to catch your strayed gaze, "We're friends, yea? Nothing to be embarrassed about." His words are soft and sweet, and he offers a smile that's kind and genuine once you finally meet his eyes. The corner of your lips pulls into a small appreciative smile the way he likes to see it, knowing he's got your sweet spot. He always did.

You place a hand over his, that makes his skin tingle with goosebumps, and your lips part to say something,

"Suguru-"

The door of the convenient store dings, "We got snacks!!" Haibura's sing-song voice erupt in the pathway exiting the store with a ding, pulling your attention away from Geto.

Another ding and Gojo jumps towards the shorter second year who's quick to dish out the goods that was requested. Geto flashes a polite smile as he's handed his ongiri, but his eyes keep wandering back to you. You're gaze is elsewhere and he follows it to Nanami who took his time to give thanks to the cashier, holding an extra few treats.

Recognition flickers across his eyes. It's the milky pink popsicle - strawberry, your favourite. The same one he bought you every time he went out, thinking of his friends as always. Thinking of you, always.

He catches the way you two exchange words. The way Nanami rubbed the back of his neck as he gave you the treat, trying his hardest to keep his composure. The way you look up at him surprised, yet quick to blink away your expressions. You avoid eye contact with the blonde before you, and your voice rises into a slightly high pitch than Geto is used to. If he wasn't so caught up in the unfamiliar sight, he would have laughed, teased you. But all he can think about is how foolish he was to not have picked up the signs earlier... not picked up the fact that you liked someone else.

"Ok let's go! Before we miss our train." Haibura chimes. Geto is ripped from his thoughts at the round of 'ok!'s from everyone. "Ok," His delayed response goes unnoticed. Nanami and you lead the group, an awkward walk as you politely chat.

"Wait guys! Wait up-" Gojo grabs Haibura from running up to them, covering his mouth.

"Shhh," He presses a finger against his lips, tightly gripping his jacket to stay between the seniors. "Let them have their moment, yea?" His pats the smaller friend's chest, a stunned look on his face.

"Moment? What do you-" He gasps, "Does Y/n like Nanami?"

"Quiet, Child, they'll hear you."

"Gojo tell me!"

"I made a vow to never tell"

"Gojooo!"

While Haibura pesters Gojo with questions, their words seem to blur and fade into the back as his focus lays on you. He couldn't seem to look away. Even under the sunsetting sunlight, the smile you offered glowed all the more. His eyes traced your lips as they moved, inaudible words Geto silently wish he could hear in that moment. He noted the way the corner of your eyes crinkled, grinning so wide at something Nanami said until your eyes disappeared into moon crescent shapes he loved. Your head tilted the way he knew you to do just to let someone silently know you're listening. He watched as you threw your head back laughing, a genuine laugh he knew the sound of too well, only to count the seconds before you're lifting a hand to cover your mouth - a habit he didn't like. From afar, he still had the reflexive urge to reach up and pull away your hand gently just to hear you properly, but he settles with digging his hands deeper into his pockets.

Gojo was right, this was your moment. But despite tearing his gaze from you, it flickered back to your face. For once he finally took notice; he could see it in your eyes that the walls were, too, crumbling. For someone other than him. It was moments like these, when his heart raced a little just because you smiled and time seemed to slow down as your eyes lit up.

Sometimes, Geto felt pretty childish himself.

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