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flysafepapi · 2 years

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the sin factor 14/?

masterlist

Warnings: mentions of murder, nothing too bad, other than that i don’t think there’s anything that needs a warning but let me know if there is

Summary: It’s in the eyes, too, the same ambition and clawing desperation to be more, get more, hidden behind a carefully blank stare. He also knows that Duke has something Tommy never had although it’s more likely that it’s the other way around, because Tommy has lines that he won’t cross for reasons that are his own. Duke has no such reservations.

tagging: @zablife @the-makingsofgreatness @peakyrogers @hb-writes @caelys (let me know if you want to be added on or taken off)

The thing is, Tommy had assumed that eventually he would come to think of the boy as his son and not a stranger with eyes that looked too much like his own for comfort. It had been a foolish assumption, he knows that now, and yet he still can’t quite shake the idea. If everything had happened sooner, if he’d made an effort years ago, would it have stopped everything from happening? The thoughts turn over and over in his mind like a never-ending self imposed torture. Would it have stopped this? What was it that made Duke the way he was, something unspoken and hidden from his childhood, or was it something in their bloodline that did it?

“You look unwell, are you ill?”

From anyone else the words might’ve been concerned, but any warmth they might’ve held is smothered underneath the utterly blank voice they’re spoken in. Duke stares at him with eyes that might as well be carved from ice for all the coldness they hold within them. The gaze makes him feel like he’s underneath a microscope, being studied for purposes he’s not privy to, and for the first time he understands why people are so unsettled by his own stare.

“There’s no shame in declining an invitation. Especially from someone like Oswald Mosley,” Duke says, still monotone, and if it wasn’t for the slight twitch of fingers Tommy might think he was completely unaffected by where they’re going. “The world is slowly going to hell and people are hosting parties like if they ignore it hard enough it won’t happen.

“Duke-“

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll have an interesting night,” Duke says, turning to look out the window at the crowds gathering outside the ostentatious club, still with that blank mask concealing what he’s thinking.

He watches Duke ignore Isiah watching him in the rear view mirror. It had been Ada’s idea, keeping Isiah close at hand, because where one goes the other swiftly follows, but something about it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It means they’re both close enough to strike if that’s what they’ve been planning, and he knows they’ve been planning something. Neither of them have been seen much the past week and normally that would be a comfort, so why does it feel like he’s walking into his own execution chamber?

There’s no point in ordering Isiah to stay with the car and so he doesn’t even bother, turning away when Isiah steps up behind Duke like a silent shadow, glaring at anyone who gets too close. Thankfully not many people do, though whether they’re deterred by Isiah’s glares or the dead-eyed look on Duke’s face is impossible to tell. The part of Tommy that wants to keep Duke away from Mosley and his mistress, to minimise any collateral damage that could happen, wars with the small part of him that wants to stand back and see what happens.

“Try to look less like you’re going to slit everyone’s throats,” he says quietly, and if he hadn’t been watching so closely he would’ve missed the minute switches in Duke’s face. He might’ve thought they were two different people entirely, had he not seen it for himself. Isiah laughs and conceals it, poorly, behind a cough.

“I would never slit everyone’s throats,” Duke says, smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world, “It’s a bitch to clean out of clothes and these are new.” It’s not comforting, but he’ll take it.

***

Isiah watches from one of the small tables as Duke shakes Mosley’s hand, smiling like he’s being paid to do it, like it doesn’t make him want to claw his own skin off. It’s impressive how easily he manages to hide it. He’s too far away to hear much of the conversation but there’s no point in getting any closer. It would look suspicious, for one, and he’ll be hearing all about it later once they finally get away from here.

He doesn’t turn to look when he feels someone stop beside him. Isiah had already seen her as soon as they stepped inside.

“Ms. Nelson. I heard about what happened to your husband. I imagine it was quite a shock, finding him like that,” Isiah says, and he can practically feel the rage rolling off her like it’s something tangible. Sooner or later, Isiah’s money is on sooner, she’ll say something she won’t be able to take back.

“Tell me, is it you calling the shots, or do you let Tommy Shelby’s son fu-“

If anyone were to look at them, all they’d see is a young couple getting a little closer than proper for such a public spot, not scandalous enough for someone to say anything but enough that they’d make their assumptions and keep their distance. He tightens his arm around Gina’s waist slowly, dragging her closer under the guise of young love or whatever inane story people will decide on if they’re seen, until it’s far past the point of comfort and she digs her fingernails into his wrist. Isiah knows the knife is sharp because he’d sharpened it himself, and he doesn’t bother being gentle when he holds the blade of it against her stomach underneath the table, hidden from view.

The smell of her perfume is enough to make him sick.

“Baby, if you think your family name is enough to deter me from opening you up all over this freshly polished floor, I’d suggest you rethink that and shut your fucking mouth.”

“Baby, if you think I’m scared of you, I’d suggest-“

He’ll laugh about it later, the way Gina shrinks into herself when she sees Duke reach around her to pick up her forgotten drink, staring at her unblinkingly as he downs it in one smooth movement. They’re attracting more attention now, especially after Duke’s moves in on Gina’s other side, the two of them boxing her between them, and she flinches when Duke reaches out to tuck her hair back behind her ear.

“Do you want to know a secret, Gina?” Duke draws the name out mockingly, looking her over for a few quick seconds before he reaches down and pulls her hand away from Isiah’s wrist, eyes flashing when he feels the wetness of blood there. Isiah almost wants her nails to have left permanent marks behind, just so he can watch what Duke does to her for it. “You’re so close to being right. I do call the shots, so you get a point for guessing that, but you know what that means? All I have to do is say the word and he’d use that frankly beautiful knife to gut you like a fish. I’m tempted to let him, all that red would be spectacular against all this marble, don’t you think?”

Isiah sees Tommy looking at them from across the room, and the carefully blank look on his face is so similar to his son’s that it’s amusing to see. Isiah shakes his head and watches until Tommy deliberately turns his back, and he can see that the inaction takes a toll, even if it is Gina they’ve got trapped between their bodies.

“Then afterwards, when everyone has all run away and this place is empty, he wouldn’t think twice about fucking me in the blood you leave behind if I asked him to, because unlike you, I have a husband that truly would do anything for me. You don’t even have a husband anymore. He didn’t even call for you while I was spilling his blood all over my shoes.”

“Husband?”

Isiah isn’t expecting the box that Duke pulls out of his pocket, or the smile Duke sends him, one of the rare real ones and not just the one he uses when he’s hiding who he really is. He’s not expecting the familiar rings inside.

“Your father gave them to me, I’ve been waiting for the right time.”

“And this is the right time?”

Gina has gone silent, probably from the knife digging further into her stomach, but maybe from the shock of what’s happening right now. It could go either way.

“We can never make it official, I know that, but I know how I feel, and I’m sick of pretending to care what everyone else might think. Will you-“

“Love, as soon as I saw you, I knew I’d follow you anywhere, and if I had to do it all over again I still wouldn’t change a thing.”

The ring feels right on his finger, like belonging and home and acceptance all at once. He doesn’t even care about anyone that might be looking when he steps around Gina to cup his hands around Duke’s face, looking down at him. It’s a risk, even above all the violence and the bloodshed the two of them are personally responsible for, and he knows they’re both going to be subjected to a lecture on the way home but he can’t bring himself to care.

“You’re my reason, baby.”

#i'm finally back baby #i can't remember how long its been since i wrote anything for this but it's been a while #originally this was supposed to be 100% tommy's pov but it got away from me in the second half #i actually had more of a large-scale event planned but i changed my mind #so no one dies in this part but originally there was going to be a lot of people being killed #instead you get this twisted and very questionable fluff #i hope its as good to other people as it was to me because i had a blast writing this one #although the dialogue at the end fought me so hard #it just did not want to cooperate with me #anyway yeah enjoy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby #duke shelby #isiah jesus #gina gray #duke shelby x isiah jesus #duke x isiah #the sin factor

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sinterblackwell · 2 years

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i would like to send a sincere apology to karla nikole because after my re-read of her second book in the lore & lust series, it has come to my attention that it is actually pretty brilliant….which wasn’t exactly my full opinion the first time around :’)

#❣️#it was the cellina & giovanni subplot #when i first read the book i remember feeling very disheartened at the idea of reading from cellina’s pov bc i just didn’t care too much #i was more invested in everything else that was going on rather than seeing cellina & giovannie reconcile #and maybe that had to do with the fact that i was jumping straight into the second book after falling in love with haru & nino #so maybe i was more invested in hearing from them (especially after what eventually happens to nino)#but like rereading this book months later i actually really appreciate what the author did?? and it baffles me because #while i did yet again skim over all those flashback scenes of cellina & giovanni— the present day scenes did hold a lot of significance #i mentioned in my initial review how objectively cellina’s pov made sense and it answered a lot of questions #to the tension that was obvious between giovanni & nino as siblings and the complicated relationship there between them both & cellina #it was interesting getting to learn more about giovanni and the secrets he held and it felt important to see him express relief when #other characters help chip in to carry that weight of all those secrets and sole responsibilities off of him #but i just didn’t…care the first time around #reading this book again—i fell in love with how the author wrote cellina’s pov #i loved learning about cellina’s career in the art world and how she & giovanni so obviously balanced each other out when it came to busines #it was pretty fascinating tbh so…i really am sorry that i couldn’t see it the first time around #this wasn’t a case of ‘second book syndrome’ where inevitably the sequel to a series typically falls flat #i was just being ignorant #so rather than being like a ‘some criticisms aside i did still really enjoy this 4.5’#my rating for ‘the vanishing’ is a strong ‘i completely praise the author for all that she put into this second book and i loved it 4.5’ <3 #lore & lust chronicles #booklr

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moonsbypadfoot · 1 month

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interest | theodore nott x female reader.

warnings : angst, fluff, based on real live events that I am still going through! (Some parts are still made up, I've only experienced the first half, the second half are made up) 😘🙃, slytherin reader (doesn't really affect the story), usage of y/n, short, short, short fan fiction, wrote this in like 30 mins, english isn't my first language and I am convinced that I'm dyslexic, second person pov,

have fun reading!

🦖

it was your fifth year at hogwarts, fifth year being friends with pansy, and your fifth year being hopelessly inlove with theodore.

yes, you've had 'relationships' before him, but he was still at the back of your mind. theodore was still lingering.

Theo seemed funny, moody, and so much more, but, you didn't expect him to like books.

Pansy looked down while eating her food, and simply said "you're reading little women too? Theodore loves that book" To which you hushed her immediately.

But that didn't stop you from asking her about Theo,later that day. "He likes it? " You asked, showing the book to pansy, "who likes what? " Pansy scrunched her eyebrows, and you groaned loudly.

"Theodore, pansy, Theodore! "

Pansy nodded her head, saying "oh yeah, he likes it". You gasped at how chill she is, and you said " This might be it pansy! ".

And oh you were right, it is it. You and daphne were sitting on a bench, gossiping about other people. When all of the sudden, Theodore passed you two, and said "Laurie, mhm? ".

"So you do like little women? " You and daphne's attention were shifted to him "since forever", and just like that, he left.

That became a more and more of a schedule for you to sit on that same bench everyday, on the exact same time. Daphne doesn't know that you still like him, it was well common knowledge that you used to like Theodore, but, everyone thought that you had moved on.

Daphne was so tired of Theodore, that whenever she sees him coming to you two, she'd roll her eyes sand say stuff like 'here he goes again' and make the biggest sigh ever.

Your first 'real' conversation was him coming up to you, saying "I like jo more than amy". At that point you didn't know what to say, neither Daphne or Pansy was there to make you less tense.

You scoffed "Amy is way better". You tried to keep yourself cool, and you did just that.

For days to days you two became closer. You'd have little chit chats after dinner, and your liking for him became bigger, but it shouldn't have.

"I have some little women.. Merch, I can send it to your room, later" Theodore suggested. "First of all, pansy would kill me if I had a boy in my room. Second of all, that will not happen cause if you do the stairs will turn into a literal slide and make you look stupid" You said, to which he just started at you.

You stupidly dreamt of him in your room, which is obviously forbidden.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne eventually found out about you still liking him, and she's convinced that Theo likes you back.

"Do you not remember what he said? 'I used to like little women, now I like it again because of her' and the boy pointed at you! And do you not remember quidditch? "

Oh boy, you do remember Quidditch.

His Quidditch match was last Wednesday, and two days before that, you two made a bet. If he won, you have to give him 15 galleons, and if he lose, he has to give you 15 galleons.

See, that same week, your professors had bombarded everyone with exams. So, if it wasn't for him you wouldn't have watched any of the Quidditch stuff.

That Wednesday, you kept exactly 15 galleons in your pocket. And, unsurprisingly he won. The slytherins celebrated like crazy, and, after that, you came up to him, saying "I could've bought myself candy but, I have your 15 galleons".

"No need for that," Theodore softly smiles, and went back to his friends who were cheering and waiting for him.

That day you couldve swore you spent a thousand hour telling pansy what you felt.

All of the sudden, Theodore didn't seem interested. You hadn't told Daphne about this, but pansy is so mas at him for the sudden stop of interest.

"See, boys are immature" Pansy groaned and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to know about his friend and, theodore-"

"Not so loud! " You sushed her, reminding that you two were still in the great hall. You doubt anyone heard you but, still, for safety reasons. "How about.. My 'him', we can call him uh.. "

"Toaster, cause if he doesn't act right Im gonna-"

"Hold your horses, pansy, let's call him trex"

"Fine, you're way too nice for that guy, and uhm, what should I call my 'him'? " Pansy asked, and, there was one minute of silence.

"Maybe trial number #2? "

That was the day your nicknames were born, and, things excelated from there. 'Trial #2', which is blaise, talked to pansy in the Slightest way possible, and 'trex' which is theo is talking to you, but he makes the conversation as dry as possible.

Theo is almost always the conversation starter, but when it comes to keeping the conversation going, it's you, and it is hardwork to keep Theo talking to you

That also reminded you of a conversation you had a long, long time ago with millicent. About how he's broken home and doesn't have a mother, and turns out it was true.

"So, that explains the on and off thing with you and him" Pansy shrugged "if you're really in love with him, you're in some really deep shit. Trial #2 barely talks to me"

and in deep shit you are, as the days became longer because he didn't want to talk to you. Pansy convinced you enough to just stop talking to him.

You felt better but, there is still something in you still craving him dearly.

"He's just there, pansy, like.. Like a word about to be spoken, but then vanishes out of our brains! One second he's there and the next he's gone! " You complained.

What made you more confused is that, you and him became more confusing. You felt like you're more than a friend, but you don't know what it is because of one thing he said.

It was common for you friends, lorenzo, and Mattheo, to tease you about Theo. It's as if they know.

Obviously, Theo was there too, along with Daphne next to you. "Y/n, I think you and Theodore are a good fit" Lorenzo laughed, and the others chimed with agreement. But, it was a subtle whisper from Theo that made you down for the rest of the day. "Don't say that, I like astoria"

You kept laughing, though it was obvious for those who actually knows you that your laugh was so fake.

You kept ignoring him, and you truly do feel better for once. As pansy says 'give him taste of his own medicine ' and you did what she said, and you felt better, for awhile.

Till he came up to you and forced you to confess.

"The fuck is wrong with you y/n? " Theodore said. "What do you mean? " You said, but, the pit in your stomach tells you exactly what he means.

"You're avoiding me. I thought we were friends"

"That's the problem" You said, in a confusing tone, which made him think.. Was it a question or a statement?

"I thought we couldve been more, Theo" You rolled your eyes at his oblivion, and you paused "you like astoria, don't you, mhm? You said it yourself".

Theo frowned "don't act so innocent, you and Macmillan were so close I thought you two were dating".

"I wasn't" You paused, "I moved on a long time ago, unlike you, no one moves on in the span of two weeks".

"Her friends told me she doesn't like me! "

"So what? That makes it right? I don't care if she likes you or not, I care if you like her or not. If I'm just your second choice, this won't work. Pansy told me that I'm better than any boys in Hogwarts, and I agree with her! Because boys like you suck"

"I like you, okay? Will you get that into your thick skull?" Theodore groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You're weird" You said, "what about me Is weird? " Theo asks.

"Your on and off stuff. You act interested, then when I actually wanna talk to you you get so dry, do you not think of that? Or you're actually really dumb? "

"You ignored me too"

"That's because I wanted you to feel what I felt! "

You honestly felt sad but, anger was more visible. But Theo looked emotionless. He wasn't happy, angry, sad, he was just there.

You both wanted to say something, but you didn't. Neither you nor Theo said a thing. You opened your bag and found your book, well, technically his.

"Here's a book that i borrowed" You said, giving it to him. "You can keep it" Theo pushed the book back to you, but your hand didn't budge. "No thanks, theo.. Ive written somethings in pencil. Don't worry too much because it's so thin you could barely tell what I wrote, a single swipe with your finger or eraser, it'll be gone".

A week has passed. And you knew for a fact he didn't re read the book.

On your favorite page, you wrote 'three broomsticks, next month, 9:00 AM? ' a month ago.

You knew way more than to come there, or did you?

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python333 · 8 months

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need a ride? — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur walking home from school and theres a weirdo following you, luckily the 141 are there and they help u out!! :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap (for like 2 seconds, so sorry soap enjoyers), ghost, gaz.

word count 2.4k

warnings a creepy old man following [reader], [reader] intended to be in high school, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of y/n [your name].

note i have like 5 drafts and all of them are requests from people so im so sorry i havent been working on those!! i pinky prom once i get the motivation to write them--which probably sounds weird since i wrote this but trust me when i had to force myself to write this lmao--i will be posting them :3 i hope u all enjoy this fic, its all fluff and emotional hurt/comfort + protective-ish 141!!

You really wish you had listened to that first warning light.

For a whole two days, your car had been in an auto repair shop, because you decided to ignore four whole warnings signs that something was seriously wrong with your car. Suspension and alignment issues, they’d told you yesterday, The wheels need to be realigned, the damaged suspension components need to be replaced, and the whole thing would take a day or two.

Fast forward to now, it’s 3:30 in the afternoon and you’ve been walking from school to your house for about ten minutes. The sun is close to being fully set—one of the worst parts of winter—and there’s been a guy following you for about five minutes now.

He showed up once you’d exited the school premises and since then had been very determined to follow you home. You obviously did not want this to happen. But it didn’t matter if you walked faster, because he would only match your pace. If you tried to run, you assume, he’d just run after you, and seeing as he had far longer legs than you—you were pretty fucked if you decided to run.

You would try to call an Uber, but your phone had been dead since fifth period. And you would try and catch a bus or something, but there were no bus stops near where you live, and even if there were, you weren’t carrying any cash or any cards on you.

So, again, you’re pretty fucked.

You look back at the man again, and turn your head right back around to look ahead of yourself once you see him looking right back at you, closer than you remember him being. Is he walking faster? Do I have to walk faster?

You let out a shaky breath and keep walking, speeding up your walk just a bit and widening your strides, trying to think of what you should do. You didn’t want to just lead him to your house, that was just stupid. But you couldn’t just not go home—where else would you go?

You continue to walk, speeding up a bit when you start to hear the man behind you speed up, and you try to control your panicked breathing. What are you supposed to do? You mentally curse yourself out for not carrying any self defense on your person, and continue your walking.

Then suddenly, as if they were sent by God himself, you see four men come into view—one with a mohawk, one wearing some sort of skull mask-balaclava, one with sunglasses on even when the sun is almost set, and one with a boonie hat on—all walking together, all engaged in a casual conversation.

You wonder for a moment if you should try and get closer to them to see if the guy would leave you alone. You hear the guy behind you speed up as you think and you take a deep breath before walking significantly faster to get closer to the men ahead of you.

Am I really gonna trust a group that has a guy wearing a fucking skull mask in it? You hear the man behind you speed up as well and you speed up in retaliation, trying to think more about what to do, Do I just walk near them or do I straight up pretend I know them?

You think that the second option would be more likely to ward the weirdo following you away, but how would you even go about it? Do you just walk near them, or actually talk to them and join in on their conversation?

You look behind you again and see the man significantly closer to you.

Deciding to take the risk, you rush up to them, swallowing down your panic when you hear the man behind you’s footsteps speed up to try and match your own speed.

“Hey, guys!” All four of the guys turn around to look at you, their expressions all varying looks of confusion as you continue to talk, “Crazy seeing you guys here, it— it’s been so long.”

You try to get as close to them as possible while not touching them and end up standing right by who you assume is the oldest. You try to subtly gesture to the man who was just following you, and the man you’re standing next to seems even more confused for a moment.

“Uh, I don—” One of his friends cuts him off with a swat to the arm and when he turns his head to look at them in confusion, they nod over at the man whose just now catching up with you, and his mouth shapes into an ‘o’ before he looks back at you with a bit more understanding in his eyes.

“Right, yeah, it has been really long,” He corrects himself, the other two of his friends catching on and stepping closer to you, almost creating a shield around you. He looks you over for a moment, before asking, “You just get out of school?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” You nod, grateful that they caught on, hoping your gratitude is somewhat apparent, “About ten minutes ago.”

“Nobody picked you up this time?” The older man asks, tilting his head to the side a bit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man who’d been following you getting closer, but you force yourself to ignore him.

“Yeah, no, everyone was kind of busy, so I have to walk home,” You respond, shoving your hands into the pocket of your hoodie to hide their shakiness as the other man stopped to stare at you two’s conversation.

“Aw, well that sucks,” The other man frowns, before offering, “I was just heading back to my car, I could drive you back to your house? It’s on the way to the hotel we’re staying at, anyway.”

You hesitate, trying to see if the man who’d been following you was still there, and much to your disappointment, he was. It was like he was just waiting for you to make a decision.

Not knowing if you had any other choice, you nod affirmatively, “Yeah, sure. If that’s okay.”

The older man gives you a small smile and pats your shoulder, “Of course it’s okay. I don’t want you just walking out here by yourself.”

You almost sobbed in relief when you heard the creep that was following you scoff and finally walk back to wherever he came from after hearing that you accepted their offer of a ride. The older man takes his hand off of your shoulder and looks over, noticing the man has left as well, then looks back at you with a more concerned expression on his face.

“Sorry, I almost gave you away at the beginning there,” He sincerely apologizes.

“It’s fine, he probably didn’t even notice,” You put on a small smile and take a deep breath before adding on, “Thank you for that. I didn’t think he was ever gonna go away.”

“Yeah, no problem,” The older man smiles at you, and tacks on, “I was serious about the ride, by the way. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You pause for a moment at that and think about if you trust them enough to have him drive you to your house and know your address and everything.

“It’s my car, by the way,” The guy with the sunglasses butts in, “I’m the one paying for it. No clue why he said it was his.”

“Because it was easier than saying it was yours,” The other guy sighs.

“Actually—” The one with a mohawk interrupts, before immediately being cut off by the other two with a simple ‘shut up’. He rolls his eyes, and does indeed shut up.

The one with a skull mask must notice your slight confusion, because he comments, “We’re renting a car for this week. Gaz is paying for it.”

“Don’t call me Gaz in public,” Gaz grumbles, “That’s weird. Just call me Kyle.”

“That sounds weirder,” The one with the skull mask argues, before the one with the almost-bucket hat sighs exasperatedly, the sound enough to make the two others shut up.

“Uh…” All their attention is back on you as you talk, making you resist the urge to shrink back in on yourself, “I mean, if you guys are totally okay with it, then I’d be… okay with getting a ride home.”

“Great!” Gaz smiles at you before dropping the smile and turning to the one with the skull mask, “You’re getting an Uber or something. I’m not driving you after that.”

“Wh—” The one in the skull mask, despite you only being able to see his eyes, looks baffled, “I didn’t do anything, fuckin’ kick out Soap or something!”

“Me? Why me?” The one with the mohawk—Soap, you assume—squawks, watching as Gaz actually thinks about it before nodding.

“Good point. Soap, call an Uber so…” Gaz pauses before turning to you, “What’s your name, love?”

You give him your name and he nods before turning back to Soap, “So that [y/n] can take your spot in the car.”

“I—” Soap begins to argue, before sighing and rolling his eyes, reaching into his back pocket for his phone, “Fine. Whatever. Fuck all of ye.”

“Sorrows, sorrows, prayers,” Gaz says dryly before turning back to you, “The car’s just another block up.”

“Got it,” You nod, “So I should just follow you guys then, or…?”

“Yeah,” Gaz confirms, “Stay a little closer in case that guy decides to come back, or if anyone else tries to follow you, alright, love?”

You nod again and take another step closer to the man with the skull mask and follow everyone else as they continue walking down to their car. They’re silent for the rest of the walk back, the man in the skull mask and the one with the almost-dad-going-fishing-hat keeping an eye out for any creeps while Gaz leads the way to the car.

Once you’ve all reached the car, Gaz unlocks it and the man in the skull mask and the one in the almost-bass-pro-shops-hat immediately get into the back seats, letting you have shotgun. You mentally thank them for it and wordlessly get into the passenger’s seat, happy that it’s not too dirty in the car, closing the car door once you’re in.

You buckle yourself in immediately and look right out the front window whilst Gaz gets in. This definitely won’t end up in me being kidnapped, You tell yourself, Totally not. This is the best idea I’ve ever had. Getting in a car with someone who goes by Gaz, someone who wears a mask from Spirit Halloween, and someone’s dad who somehow ended up here. Fucking perfect idea. I should do this more often.

Gaz gets in and buckles himself in, putting the car key into the ignition and twisting it, starting up the engine. You continue to stare out the window wordlessly as Gaz pulls out of the parking lot he’d been in and gets onto the road.

“Could you give me the directions to get to your place?” He asks you once he’s stopped at a red light right outside of the parking lot. Silently, you nod.

“Yeah, just, uh, keep going straight then take a left on Monroe,” You instruct him quietly. He nods and presses on the gas once the light turns green, continuing straight like you’d said.

“You alright?” The bearded man in the back pipes up, making you twist your head back to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You assure him, half-lying, “Just a little tired and creeped out.”

“Reasonable,” He hums, before adding on, “I’m John, by the way, and this is Simon.”

Simon, the dude wearing the Spirit Halloween mask, perks up at the sound of his name, but otherwise doesn’t say anything.

“Good to know,” You respond, wondering if you should say anything else before awkwardly turning back in your seat to continue staring out the window, watching as Gaz takes a left.

“Take the next right, then just continue straight and then take a right on Balboa,” You tell him. He nods and takes the next right just as you told him to.

It’s probably safe to assume they aren’t kidnapping you, You think, your breathing finally back to normal now that you know you’re probably not in any danger.

“So what’s with the name ‘Gaz’?” You ask Gaz without thinking, tired of the silence in the car. Based on the way Gaz groans and John huffs out a laugh, you assume it’s somewhat of a long story.

“It’s kind of a long story?” Bingo. “But in short, I just don’t talk too much, and someone decided to make a big deal out of that.”

“I never made it a big deal!” John insists, all while Simon looks at him like he knows he’s lying, “It’s just a nickname!”

You listen in on their bickering, grateful to finally have some noise in the car, and huff out a small, amused laugh at their antics.

Soon enough, Gaz is turning right on Balboa, and he drives right into your neighborhood.

“It’s the house right up there,” You point to it, and he looks at the house you pointed at and speeds up a bit to reach it faster.

Once he’s at the house he thinks you pointed at, he asks, “This one, right?” and pulls into the driveway when you nod in confirmation.

He parks the car in your driveway and turns off the engine, immediately unlocking the car and turning to you.

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your day,” He says politely, offering you a smile.

“Thank you, you too,” You smile back, feeling a little bad for being so eager to get out of the car. Then again, you really just want to get inside of your house where it’s safe, so you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door.

You carefully get out and close it behind you, fishing your keys out from your back pocket, walking up to the front door of your house and unlocking it, only hearing Gaz’s car pulling out of your driveway after you’ve successfully opened your front door.

You yawn as you walk in, and close the door behind you, toeing off your shoes and leaving them by the front door.

You think, in the back of your head, about how weird it is that you didn’t get kidnapped despite that being the perfect opportunity for them to do so—but you don’t think about it too hard. You’re just grateful to have gotten home safe.

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feelbokkie · 10 months

Text

When They Notice That You're Not Around

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

Ooh i got idea, so you have crush on this skz members and you try flirt with him for at least 1 month and he always ignore you until one day you playing trick on him by you being cold to him and didnt give him attention even when he is around you and from that he is trying to get your attention again

genre: fluff (felt nice this time), slight angst, friends to lovers, some crack

pov: 2nd POV

description: After all of your failed efforts of flirting with friend!skz

pairing: friend!skz x reader

warnings: swearing

word count: *listed below* (unedited)

a/n: I genuinely don't remember what I wrote originally so I'm pretty sure some of these are completely different from what I wrote originally.

방 찬(Bang Chan) (323 words)

"Why are you all the way over there? Come here," Chan waves you over to to the chair that he had placed right next to him.

"I'm good," you flatly respond.

You spent the better part of a month going straight to the studio or the dorm to hang out with Chan and shamelessly flirt with him. You would often pull up the chair that was in the corner and sit next to him, placing a cup of coffee in his line of sight, with a flirty joke or message on it, and sit quietly as he worked. After two weeks of noticing that, he started leaving the chair next to him for you and a clear space for the coffee. You didn't know it, but it was his favorite part of the day.

But today, you decided to fuck with him a little as revenge for not picking up your signals. So instead, you walked in, placed the cup at the edge of the desk, and laid down on the couch behind him. He pushed it off as you being tired and left it alone. That is until he picked up his coffee and saw it was noteless.

"Nope," He sighs, standing up.

He turns around and quickly picks you up before you could question what was happening and puts you in your chair. He takes a marker from a the pile of stuff he has on the desk and places it in front of you, along with his coffee cup. You stare at the cup, completely dazed from everything that just happened in a short amount of time, while Chan grabbed all you stuff from the couch and place them near you. Once he was done, he sat back in his chair pulled your chair closer to him.

"Don't think I didn't know what you were doing. Now go ahead, write your flirty little message. I know you were dying to."

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho) (331 words)

"Hello?" You asked, picking up your phone without even checking who was calling.

"Oh, so you do know how to use your phone." You hear an annoyed Minho on the other end. You silently curse to yourself and hang up the phone, knowing that it would piss him off more.

You had been flirting with Minho for a month before you decided to see if he would notice that you stopped. It's only supposed to be for a day and since you spent so much of your free time with him you thought it would be best to just stay home. You'd break immediately if you were hanging around him. He would purposely get in your face until you stopped ignoring him. You know he would, he's done it before. You knew that he would just leave you alone if you stayed home.

A few minutes later, there's a pounding at your front door. When you open the door, Minho let's himself into your apartment.

"Not one single stupid meme or dumb pick up line from you in 16 hours. I thought you were dead in your kitchen or something. And then, when you hung up on me, I thought you were being held hostage because why else would you hang up." He huffs.

"I--"

"Do you not like me anymore?"

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"Can we back track for a second? You knew that I have feelings for you?"

"You have feelings for me? Ah, that would explain a lot."

"What is happening right now?"

"You like me."

"We've established that already, unfortunately."

"We're dating now."

"What?"

"You like me and I spent nearly the entire day panicking because I didn't hear from you for one day."

"I don't see what that has to do with us dating?"

"I'm trying to tell you I like you too."

"Can't you tell me like a normal person?"

"Nevermind, I change my mind. I'm breaking up with you."

"Minho, wait! I'm kidding."

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin) (317 words)

"Are you mad at me?" Changbin asks, coming into the kitchen. You were helping Minho and Felix cook dinner like you normally did when you went over for group nights.

"No," Your eyes don't leave the potatoes you were peeling.

When flirting with Changbin for a month didn't work, you decided to see if ignoring him would do anything. And boy did it. He got annoyed immediately at the gym when you would purposely go to machines that were far away from him or ask either Chan or Jisung to spot you. And then when you decided to go all the way home to shower and take a nap instead of going to his dorm, which was way closer, he was left completely stunned. He knew you wanted to take a shower as soon as possible after working out, which is why he offered to let you take showers at the dorm instead.

The last straw was when you went over to the dorm for dinner and greeted everyone except him. You even refused to look in his direction before heading off to the kitchen.

By the time dinner was finished, you were the last one at the table as everyone helped get the food and you were double checking that everything was off. There was only one seat left at the table, between Felix and Changbin.

You took the seat and made it a point to scoot it closer to Felix, who didn't mind. Changbin watched as you talked and laughed with everyone else at the table. Quickly becoming jealous, Changbin pulled your chair closer to him. He placed a firm grip on the back of the chair so you couldn't move and leaned in by your ear.

"If you have feelings with me, don't play games and just tell me." He whispered. Everyone looked on in confusion as they watched your face turn beet red.

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin) (317 words)

"Hyunjin, I said I was sorry." You whine.

"Do you guys hear something? I think a mosquito got in." Hyunjin says, not looking up from his phone.

You are currently on your knees in front of him, begging for his forgiveness and he is not having it. Yesterday you decided that today was going to be the day you were going to ice him out after flirting with him for a month. Hyunjin did not like that one bit and started ignoring you back immediately. Somehow you forgot how incredibly petty Hyunjin could get.

"You know he's an idiot, maybe you should have just told him instead of icing him out," Seungmin calls from the corner.

"You," You turn to point at Seungmin, "shut the fuck up. It was your idea to ice him out!"

"It was your mistake to go to me for love advice in the first place. You're both idiots, you're perfect for each other." He shoots back. Chan, who was sitting next to Seungmin, hits him in the back of the head.

"Love advice?" Hyunjin asks softly. You and Seungmin both freeze, too caught up in your bickering to realize that Hyunjin was still in the room.

"Shit," You mutter under your breath.

"You went to Seungmin for love advice instead of me?" He scoffs.

"Oh my god, he really is an idiot. Permanent president of baboracha." Seungmin laughs.

"Wait a minute..." Hyunjin pauses. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"Kill me now," You whisper.

"There he goes," Chan adds.

"You like me? Is that why you're alway hanging around me?"

"I'm going home."

"No, wait! I like you too."

"You do?"

"Congrats, you two finally realized that you two like each other. Now can you two please shut up so I can eat in peace?" Seungmin says dryly, earning him another smack from Chan.

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung) (292 words)

You were honestly confused when you opened your front door to find Jisung standing there, holding bags of food. After countless failed attempts are flirting with him, you decided to see if giving him the silent treatment would do the trick. Tonight is supposed to be movie night but you decided to stay home instead, claiming that you weren't in the mood.

"Why are you here?" You ask softly.

"You're mad at me, clearly, and I'm trying to make up for whatever I did."

"What if I say no?" You question, amused by his persistence. He's been texting you non stop ever since you told him you weren't coming to movie night.

"Please, let me in. I'm really sorry." He whines. You hold back a laugh and let him in.

***

You two ended up watching a few movies while eating. You were quiet while Jisung was doing his usual commentary. You were now watching a movie you picked that coincidentally had a plot where the female lead was consistently flirting with the male lead with not avail.

"That guys is a dumbass! How can he not see that she's clearly in love with him? She's literally looking at him with heart eyes." He whines. You try not to scoff at the sheer stupidity of Jisung.

The next scene is male lead realizes that he's in love with the female lead after she stopped giving him attention and moved on. You feel Jisung's body become rigid next to you.

"Fuck," You hear him mutter. You turn to look at him to see what happened, thinking he dropped food, only to be met with his lips literally crashing onto yours. He pulls away and gives you a sheepish smile.

"Sorry for being a dumbass."

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok) (287 words)

Felix sat on the edge of the couch pouting and head tiled in confusion, the space he left for you empty. Everyone else around you shared confused looks as you sandwiched yourself between Hyunjin and Seungmin instead of taking your normal spot next to Felix.

Felix had grown accustomed to the attention you had been given him over the past month. Everyone knew that you liked him, except for Felix himself. In fact, Changbin and Jeongin thought you two were dating already. So when you decided to not sit with Felix during game night, it left everyone bewildered.

You had been avoiding Felix all night, favoring spending time with the other boys over him. He didn't mind it at first, you were friends with everyone and it wasn't like you two were dating. And he was confident that you were going to be in his group like always.

Fed up with you constantly ignoring him, he got up from his spot on the couch and came behind you wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala.

"Lix, go find another group." You sigh. You were adamant about icing him out all day after a failed month of flirting with him.

"No," He mumbles into your back.

"What do you mean no?" You ask trying to unclasp his arms and legs from around you unsuccessfully. His grip tightens a bit to make sure you couldn't pry him off.

"Mine," He lifts his head up and speaks loudly, making sure everyone in the room heard him.

"What's yours?" You ask confused.

"You," He says before pressing his lips to your cheek.

"Fucking finally! Have fun third wheeling, Hyunjin." Seungin shouts before moving to be next to Innie.

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min) (320 words)

"For the love of fucking god, will you two just make up and kiss already?" Minho yells.

You and Seungmin were at a standoff. Two days ago you decided to ice him out to see if he would notice that you were flirting with him nearly everyday for the past month. You somehow forgot how petty and stubborn Seungmin could be and now you two were genuinely ignoring each other. And unfortunately, all of the other guys were stuck in the middle.

"Y/n started it," Seungmin says simply, refusing to look up from his phone.

"Learn to take a fucking joke." You throw back, refusing to look up from your phone as well. You just finished photoshopping a picture of Seungmin's face onto a donkey and was in the middle of sending it in the group chat with all nine of you.

"Oh real mature, Y/n." He scoffs.

"I'm sick of this shit. Seungmin, Y/n likes you and the only reason why she ignored you two days ago is because you weren't picking up on the fact that she was desperately flirting with you every day and wanted to see if you would notice. And Y/n, Seungmin likes you and the only reason he got mad is because he's jealous that you're not giving him attention anymore. Kiss and get this over with, I'm hungry!" Jisung shouts, his skills as main rapper clearly coming in handy.

Both you and Seungmin stare at Jisung, who threw himself on the floor after exposing you two, before looking at each other. You both silently nod before getting up to silently jump Jisung.

"Someone help me!" Jisung screams.

"Knock it off," Chan says lazily. Both you and Seungmin stop and just look at each other.

"Want to dich everyone else and go on a date?" Seungmin asks.

"Sure," You shrug.

"What just happened?" Jeongin asks as you and Seungmin leave.

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In) (310 words)

"Hello--"

"Chan hyung says that you like me. Is that true?" Jeongin cuts you off as soon as you answer the phone.

"I didn't say that!" You hear Chan yell in the background.

"Uh..." Thrown by the sudden question, every word you know seemed to disappear from your brain.

"He said that you were flirting with me this whole time and I was being clueless. Is that why you were avoiding me yesterday?"

You pull the phone away from you ear and look at the time. It's definitely too early for this. You sigh before sitting up and turning on your bedroom light.

"Yeah," You mumble, defeated and still not awake enough.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You hear a chorus of 'I told you so's' in the background.

"I did," You get up and drag your feet to the bathroom to splash some water on your face.

"You did? When?"

"Last month, after you walked me home from the movies." You never imagined that this is how you would be confessing to Jeongin. You had several more romantic scenarios in your head that were more palatable than this.

"I thought you meant as a friend."

"As a friend? I kissed you!"

"Not as a friend?"

"Are your friends just kissing you platonically?" You scoff.

"Did you forget who I live with?"

"Oh right,"

"I like you too. Not as a friend, obviously. More than that." He whispers, probably so the boys don't hear him.

You nearly drop your phone in the sink full of water, the shock of hearing Innie say that he likes you too woke you up fully. You freeze, scared that if you moved an inch you would wake up from a dream. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Ah, Y/n, I have to go. Let's go out on a date tonight and talk, okay?"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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somnambulic-thing · 8 months

Text

warm like moonshine

vampire boyfriend!Eddie x afab!reader E 18+, smut!!!

Words: 4k

|consensual somnophilia/reader receiving; awake sex; biting/blood drinking; established relationship; oral; piv; exploring intimacy; vampire puns!; fluff, Eddie pov|

A/N: So, well, @courtingchaos put out her leg with this sleepy story (go read) and I tripped over it and fell right into this scenario. I had a lot of vampire!Eddie thoughts lately and playing around with vampire anatomy and what one could get up to with one's very own bloodsucker is a very fun rabbit hole to fall into. :3 Probably not the last thing I wrote in this universe.

Eddie was cold.

Not by Vampire standards, mind, but it wasn’t another Vampire that his freak-of-nature heart was beating for.

It was beating for a human. It was beating for you.

From his past life, Eddie remembered very well how constant cold could grind on a soul inhabiting a body that was hot-blooded and conditioned to flee from it.

But luckily he was only cold unless he did something about it. Finding new ways to do something about it had grown to become one of his favourite pastimes since you came into his life.

His peculiar skin was like smooth polished stone stretched thin and pliable over lean muscle and once he warmed up, much like a slab of granite in the sun, he could hold it for a while. Hours if he had the right insulation.

The sun wasn’t an option for him anymore, no. It was out to erode him if he bared himself long enough to its rays. But a hot bath worked wonders to get warm and cosy for you, or some time spent with a hot water bottle tucked under a blanket.

His favourite way though, was being tucked under you, skin on skin, chests pressed flush together.

It was something divine, feeling his body heat up through the energy radiating from yours. When you eventually had to climb off his lap, leaving him in bed to do some of those things Vampires had no need or urge for, he could press a cool hand to his chest and still feel you with him.

You indulged him in that more often than he should let you. Spending all this time being cold just to be with him.

As feral as he was for basking in you, he just wanted to be hot for you in every way and that right from the start.

So he made a proposal to you.

A way he could fuck you with your own heat without you having to feel cold for one second.

A thought turned into desire during those nights he spent next to your warm, sleeping body with plenty of time to imagine all those things he wanted to do to you.

He was careful in choosing his words, determined to convey that he would rather plunge a stake through his own chest than do anything to injure or violate you; body or soul.

The quickening of your pulse brought no anxiety to your eyes. He hadn’t scared you, more so, you were intrigued and he drew a deep breath of relief. An old habit.

You took time to think it over, to get familiar with the idea and develop your own fantasies while mapping out boundaries. Again and again you asked him to lead you through what had become a shared fantasy now and he gave you everything you asked for and as long as you needed.

He knew he was a dangerous creature, there was no use denying it. Making sure you knew he wasn’t a threat was imperative and your trust the most precious thing he’d ever own.

—

Sunrise was near.

“You coming over tonight?” you asked as you watched him get ready to leave you to the things sunlight-dwellers got up to in the bright hours of the day.

Eddie, about to button his jeans, looked up and over to you seated on the edge of the bed across the room. Something in your voice called the hair on his neck to attention. Your already raised pulse quickened under his gaze. He cocked his head, all his senses reaching out to your body. You suddenly smelled so aroused it was obscene.

“Stop dissecting me, Munson.”

He shook his head to clear it with moderate success. “Sorry… couldn’t help it.” He laughed deeply, the sound thick and sticky. “I’m putting on my clothes and suddenly you just smell like that—”

“Monster,” you smiled. “Can’t surprise you with anything.”

“Well, that’s not true.” He put his shirt on and crossed the room. It was probably a bad idea to kneel before you now with sunrise so close while you still looked so tousled and sleepy and smelled so sinfully horny, but he did it anyway. Your hand instantly found his face. He was already cooling down and the soft slide of your thumb left a streak of warmth high on his cheek. “You surprise me all the time. It’s just… different.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t trying to pry, promise.”

“I know.” You cocked your head. “So, are you busy tonight?”

“Hmm,” he hummed in affirmation turned his face into your palm and kissed it. “First band, then blood and coffee with Wayne.”

“Oh, right. Okay.”

“You gonna tell me why, sweetheart?”

“No,” you said with an enigmatic smile. It took all of his willpower to draw his ‘antennas’ back from you, but nothing could drown out this smell.

He was getting hungry. He was getting hard.

You bent down and slowly slid your arms around his neck, nails softly scraping the nape of his neck and your forehead found his, hot like a fever. “Not right now anyway.”

“Wow… who is the monster now, hm?”

Your laugh was infectious, had made him sick with adoration for you right from the start. He caught your mouth to get more of it right from the source. Soon he wouldn’t be strong enough to leave.

And you knew it.

“You should go,” you mumbled. Your palms were like hearths against his shoulders, pushing with little determination. “Before I pull you in here and you’re stuck until sunset.”

“Pull me in then, I don’t mind.” He ran his palms up your bare thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“Fuuuck, Eddie…”

“’Fuck Eddie’ sounds like a great idea to me.”

“If I fuck you now, you’re not leaving and we both know I get nothing done with you flapping around here and there are plenty of things I need to do today.”

Eddie let his curled-up lips glide over the edge of your jaw all the way to the soft hot spot below your ear where your pulse was a torrent. His teeth were aching.

“I want to do you so bad right now,” he whispered and felt the moan leaving your lungs hot against his shoulder.

“Don’t make me get the garlic.”

“Just one sip from your Holy Water, baby, I know you’re drenched right now—”

You threw your head back and slumped against his chest as you erupted into bellowing laughter.

He’d hoped to make you scream in a different way but he’d take it anyway. Wrapping his arms around you he pulled you to his lap and joined you in your laughing fit.

“Was worth a try,” he chuckled against your collarbone as you both came down.

“You nearly ended me with that one.”

He felt your hot mouth press against his crown and then you leaned back and moved to stand up.

“Oh, cruel world,” he said, more whiny than intended and pushed himself to stand. Outside, the sky was that dim clear blue that was the harbinger of a sunny September day. “Guess I better get going then.” His hands fisted the hem of your shirt and pulled you in for one more kiss.

“Gonna miss you, bat-man.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, hypnotized by the soft, bittersweet melody that was your good-bye voice. “Love you, moonshine.”

—

Eddie mourned your warmth leaving his body as he hurried through slowly awakening streets to outrun the dawn. And oh, how he longed for it when he touched himself in the dark of his room, how he craved it when the high induced by heavy, distorted riffs surged through him like a lightning strike and how he needed it when he stepped outside into a night that was as cold as himself.

Fuck. He was so needy.

So he called Wayne; he would be an hour late today and now Eddie had almost two hours to spare. Determined to spend as many seconds as possible joined with you, he once more hurried along through mostly vacant streets.

—

Eddie wore the key to your place on a chain around his neck together with his favorite guitar pick. He fiddled with it while he took a moment to calm himself before he took it off and slid it into the lock; he had no intention of giving you a jumpscare barging in like a starving beast.

Your smell instantly exploded into his face the moment the door cracked open. He expanded his ribcage to the limit, inhaling the amalgamation that was the scent of your home through flared nostrils as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him and—

Taped to the wall opposite the door was a note.

It was fully dark inside, but Eddie needed no light to read it. Hell, he would have been able to take a good guess about the content just from the scent alone. You had touched yourself before you put it up for him, knowing very well he wouldn’t be able to stay away for long after this morning and the smell of your cunt was all over the paper.

He got hard so fast it was painful.

Eddie let his head drop against the wall, the paper right under his nose. He needed to close his eyes for a moment.

My dear Count,

I invite you in.

You don’t have to wake me first.

I trust you.

I love you

He could hear your slow, even breath call for him from your bedroom.

Eddie stripped naked right on the spot and kicked the heap of clothes that pooled by his feet under the dresser in the hall. He had learned his lesson not to leave tripping hazards in the dark for you the hard way.

The door was ajar, the room behind dimly lit by the waning moon and the street lights outside your window. It was warm in here, unusually so, and Eddie smiled brightly in the dark.

“So clever. Sooo, so clever.”

He silently moved to the foot of the bed. You were turned to your side and almost fully covered but he still took his time studying you. Your features were so soft, all your muscles relaxed and your heartbeat steady and serene.

He started stroking himself slowly, hissing at the touch, while he reached for the covers with his free hand and with a gentle pull, Eddie revealed your bare skin inch by inch.

You had made it easy for him, going to bed naked and wet.

“Oh, sweetheart. What you do to me…”

One knee to the mattress, then the other and then he lowered himself, crawling up your body while the tip of his tongue grazed over the length of your calf and up up to your thigh, over your hip and further up and there you stirred a little.

“I know, it’s cold,” he said, licking his lips, relishing your taste for a moment before he pushed himself up to your ear. “I’m about to change that. Suck up your heat and give it back to you so good. Gonna make you sweat…”

There was no need to whisper. You wouldn’t wake from his words.

It was his special voice he used; the one that could put a vampire’s prey into a trance. It was never without your permission when he spoke to you that way, was reserved for sacred moments like when you let him drink from your blood. .

He gave you just a little dose, just enough to keep you in a slumber. For now.

“No need to rouse yet, my love,” he said as he receded back down your body, peppering your skin with cool kisses. “M’ making sure you’ll wake when it’s time.”

Sitting back on his calves, he smoothed one hand over the curve of your hip in ever-growing circles, your bed-warm skin so hot against his. When the circles reached the meat of your ass, he stilled to gently squeeze you, coaxing a soft, low noise from your lips, making his cock twitch angrily. He wrapped his warmed hand around it and squeezed, oh so desperate to be surrounded by your heat.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “So good…”

He slowly turned you to your back with gentle hands and endless admiration, all his senses as sharp as his teeth, not missing anything. He was greedy to get between your thighs, to spread you open wide before him and drink you in, scent and taste and everything you would give him but this was a matter of slow and gentle things, a time for worship.

There would be time for debauchery soon enough.

Still, he couldn’t bite back the growl rising in his throat when he finally sat between your thighs and why should he? You so loved it when he growled and hissed, when he let out his feral side.

His mouth watered, and his teeth ached as he smoothed his hands up over the hot insides of your thighs, thumbs digging in lightly over where large arteries pumped your blood a little faster now.

“Beautiful,” he muttered. “So fucking divine.”

He lowered himself to his stomach, breathing deep through his nose for the first time since he turned you over.

Your scent made him drool.

Spit dribbled down his chin and to the sheet and Eddie ached to taste you and make you feel good, to mix his spit with your slick but his tongue was still too cold. But his fingers weren’t.

Averting his face from your pussy, he pressed his open mouth to your thigh. Your skin there was so hot, that this wouldn’t take to long and while he licked and sucked and kissed your legs with something else in mind, his thumb found your clit and drew soft circles around it. You sighed, hips stuttering and Eddie bared his teeth, indulging in grazing his fangs over your sensitive skin for a moment as he worked himself up up up and your clit between the slide two fingers.

You were so wet for him.

He moaned and you mewled when he finally sucked one of your swollen lips into his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good,” he almost whined and exchanged his fingers with his tongue. “All of you, just all of you… I want to devour you…” he mumbled into your folds and slid two fingers inside you where your pulse beat fast against the pads of his fingers. He could feel you tense around them as he started to stroke that spot.

You had been closer to the surface for a while and he took short breaks every now and then to talk to you to make sure you didn't came too close to it just yet, but not as deep as you had been when he’d found you. This seemed to be the sweet spot, awake enough for your body to enjoy what he did to you.

He needed to fuck you so bad.

Eddie ground his hips into the mattress, the sheet damp where the tip rubbed against it. He shuffled around and shoved his hand under his own hips, nice and warm from resting under your ass for a while. He groaned into your cunt as his fingers wrapped around his cock, a loud, hoarse sound and you lolled your head to the side, fingers scraping against the sheet.

“Hmm… E-eddie…”

Just an unconscious whisper, featherlight, but enough to break him.

He peeled his mouth away from you with effort and sat up.

“You awake, sweetheart?” he asked as he slid his hands under your knees and brought them up, draping them over his thighs. “No?” he ran his hands down his body, warm from you and the bed.

“Soon… so soon…” Gripping his cock, he ran his tip through your folds, moaning and cursing. “Can’t wait to look into your eyes…” He lined up with your hole and pushed in. Slowly, slowly, ready to retreat at the slightest sign of discomfort. Your brows drew together, your chest hitched and he reached down to softly play with a hard nipple. “Does this feel good?” he asked through his teeth. “You’re making that pretty face… fuck…”

He threw his head back, fully inside you and you still felt so hot, but he was warm and it was time to fuck you awake now. Eddie lowered himself over your chest, resting his forearms on the mattress, the tips of his hair grazing your skin and he slowly rolled his hips in shallow, aimed thrusts. Slow and steady, in and out, in and you sighed and out and your mouth parted and in and you licked your lips and out and your thighs squeezed him. Eddie picked up speed.

“Hmmm…ngh… Ed?”

“There you are,” he said and pushed in deep.

“Ah—“

And again. “Come to me, sweetheart. Join the fun.”

Your hand came up, waving around aimlessly before it landed on his biceps. “F’ck…”

“Good?” He brushed hair off your forehead. You were sweating now, just a thin sheen but he’d just started. “You feel so good—“

“Eddie…” Slow and drawled. “Fuck… what…”

He laughed and picked up speed again. You tilted your hips up and he reached so deep. “Holy fuck—“

“Oh g-god…”

“Look at me.”

You shook your head, both hands gripping his arms tight and a long, high sound swelled in your throat.

“Look at me, baby.”

Weak fists pounded against his shoulders. “M’ tryin’… trying… fuck, Eddie…” You opened your eyes, just a little but enough. “You’re so warm…”

And then he lost it.

He needed to be everywhere, touch all of you, taste all of you and held your chin as he lowered his lips to yours to slide his tongue inside your mouth to let you know what he’d done to you. Your hands in his hair pulled on his roots and he knew you knew-

“Can you taste yourself?”

-and your answer a low strangled moan and his pleasure a deep, viscous laugh before he lowered his chest to yours, his face to the crook of your neck and fucked you fucked you fucked you so deep and right where you liked it loved it needed it.

“You’re so tight, you’re gonna come for me already?”

“So… sensitive…”

“I know, I know… Just let go—“

A silent scream, air rushing violently down your throat and then you were twitching under him, writhing under him. He could feel the electricity rush through you, pull on your muscles and clench down down down on his cock-

“You good, moonshine?”

“Don’t stop!”

“Want another one?”

“Yes yes yes yes…”

So he didn’t stop. His mouth pressed against your pulse he gets you there again, lets you shatter again, picks you up again.

Slowing down he pushed up to look at you, to kiss you and praise you and oh the bliss on your face—

“Bite me.”

He groaned, teeth aching instantly.

“Bite me.”

He slowed down more and more and you smiled triumphantly before you cradled his face and lifted your lips to his and he drew back.

“If you want me to bite you, you’ll have to behave.”

“Just one kiss.”

“You know the routine. I need you to calm down.”

“Just one little kiss.”

He stilled his hips and gave you one little kiss that turned deep and bruising, wet and sharp. You bit his lips, three, four times before he pulled back, moaning your name.

“You’re wicked—“

“Bite me.”

“Nope, not with that heart rate. Not turning you into a fountain.“

“But you want to?”

“What? Drink your blood? Nah, but I’d take a glass of orange juice.”

You laughed, a little snort in there and he dropped his forehead to yours. Hot and sweaty against cool and dry.

A sigh. “Fuck that’s good… I’m so hot…”

“Told you I’d make you sweat.”

Your pretty face was a question mark and he laughed.

“Oh right, you were asleep.” You tensed around his cock, eyes wide and pulse picking up again. “That turning you on?”

“So much.”

“Gonna tell you more later… need you to relax now… I want my treat.”

Noses brushing, lips only grazing, Eddie’s hand on your chest, fingers drumming in sync with your heart. He loved it this way, the moment before he breached your skin, soft and silly and needy. You made it easy to forget the violence behind it.

“I love you,” he said in that special voice. It went straight to your eyes, lids suddenly a little heavy. “You know that, right?”

“I do…” You reached up to his face, index finger pushing at his upper lip and he pulled it back for you, knowing what you wanted. The ache in his fangs, already dull and throbbing picked up when you ran your thumb over them. “You’re beautiful, Eddie.”

He caught your wrist and kissed your knuckles before he let you go to put two fingers to your cheek, turning your face to the side, your chin up.

You trembled. Pulse picking up again. He nuzzled his face to your neck.

“Just a little sting, sweetheart. You like when it stings a little, right?”

A nod. His magic doing its work, calming you down. He grazed your neck with his teeth, drooling on your skin.

“Please.”

It was so easy, the way his teeth sank into you, so fast, in and out, just one two three seconds and then his lips closed around the bite and you flooded his mouth, hot and red and sweet. He moaned. Your hands in his hair and your blood in his mouth and he sucked because he needed more and at the same time rolled his hips for the same reason. Slowly, shallow, like in the beginning when you were just waking up to him fucking you.

“You gonna come for me, Eddie?” you breathed, lifting your hips to meet him.

His rhythm faltered, became erratic, so close so close so close andthe heat in his stomach was almost too much almost unbearable and then—

“Come inside me while you drink me.”

And he did, twitching, growling, thrusting deep deep even deeper inside you. He pulled back from your throat, pressed a palm to the bite while he shook, a thin dribble of red escaping him, black in the dim light and you praised him for ruining another set of sheets.

As soon as he came down enough to keep from shaking, his attention was all yours again. He flexed that muscle right under his jaw and a clear, viscous liquid flooded his mouth. He lifted his palm and let it drip to your neck to spread it with his tongue over the bite marks to stop the bleeding. It was instant. In about an hour, there would be nothing left to see. He hummed deep in his chest and kissed each puncture wound before he raised his head to find your face.

“Smile for me.”

And he did, teeth still dripping in blood and you returned the smile You wound your hand into his hair to pull him close and kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips for the second time tonight.

—

A little later, with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you, Eddie’s fingers drew nonsense patterns into your skin with a featherlight touch. He still felt high on you, drunk on you, could still taste your blood on his tongue, could feel his cum sticky on his skin where your thigh was draped over him.

He could cry if he could cry.

“Your fingers are getting cold.”

Startled from his bliss he sighed and lifted his hand.

“Didn’t tell you to stop… feels nice.”

He pressed a kiss to your hair and resumed. Your voice was getting drowsy now.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“M’ tired.” As if in confirmation, you yawned.

“I mean about tonight.”

“Oh,” you stirred, turning your face up to him. “Feelin’ good. Really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-hm… I’d like to do that again,” a pause, “if you like.”

“God, yes.”

“You’re such a cliche… better go check your vampire bingo card…”

You both broke into giggles, soft and warm in the darkness, but yours faded soon as your breath slowed down.

“You’nna stay?” you drawled.

“Yeah, of course. Going nowhere tonight.”

“Good,” he felt you smile against his chest. “What abou’ Wayne?”

“Gonna call him when you’re asleep. Don’t worry.”

He was almost sure you hadn’t really heard his answer anymore, your body feeling asleep again. But then you surprised him.

“Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to wake me before sunrise…”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #somnophilia #vampire!Eddie #my fic

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peachesofteal · 1 year

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Same pairing as "I got you". When I first wrote these, I also wrote a hefty chunk of an entire Simon Riley series that just ended up sitting in my drafts. I've been editing it slowly and now it's being uploaded.

Simon Riley/female reader Part of the Sassy series - 4.2k words - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, pregnancy, pregnant reader, blow job, praise kink, blood, violence, injury, PTSD, anxiety, trust issues. Simon is bad at feelings. Soap is a good friend. POV switches. Soap gives Simon a picture.

There’s a gun in your nightstand. You don’t use it, ever. You don’t need it, haven’t needed it, haven’t touched it. You think, after the baby comes, you’ll put it away for good. Bury it in a locked box somewhere beneath a pile of boxes in the basement.

Speaking of boxes, you’re standing in a sea of them. Different boxes for different parts of the crib, dresser, and little bookshelf. The old recliner you used to have downstairs is up here now, nestled in the corner next to where you think you’re going to put the crib. It’s not a rocking chair, but it will have to do. It’s a sage green, the soft hue calming to your nerves, which you think helps the baby. Your baby, who the internet says is the size of a banana and can hear your heartbeat, who likes to kick you in your ribs at all hours of the night. You rub your palm over your belly as you shift your weight, staring down at the instructions for the wood paneling of the bookcase. You’re rotating the shiny paper in your hand, trying to understand which piece fits to which when your doorbell rings.

You frown. You weren’t expecting anyone. You didn’t really have friends, anyone who would visit.

Your mind wanders to the gun for a split second, but you shake it off. You’re home. You’re not in danger. There is nothing to fear. The mantra grounds you, solidifies you enough that you make your way down the stairs and peek through the peephole in the door.

When you see Soap’s face on the other side, you can practically feel your blood pressure drop.

“Hey, Johnny.” You say in greeting, face apprehensive. He lights up when you open the door, and then freezes like you’ve shot him.

“Sassafras.” He whispers in disbelief. You sigh, and step to the side.

“By yourself?” Soap stares at you like you’re nuts. You nod.

“Yeah… not like I could get in contact. Not like I wanted to, either.” He grimaces.

“So, he has no idea, you’re having his kid… you’re five months pregnant, and he doesn’t know.” You scoff.

“You make it sound like I’m helpless.” He looks from you to the pile of furniture pieces on the ground at your feet, and then to the screwdriver in his hand.

“You’re not helpless, lass.” He says softly, eyes sympathetic as they glance over your belly. “But this is a lot, for anyone to do alone.”

Later, you and Johnny sit on your back porch. He sips a beer; you drink a decaf iced tea. Bugs chirp in the grass of your little yard, the yellow glow of the string lights that you managed to get up twinkle above your heads.

“So, what’re you havin’?”

“It’s a boy.” You whisper, smile on your lips. You remembered when the doctor told you, remembered everything you felt when she said those three words. You were so… angry. How dare the universe give you a boy? How dare it give you the reminder, the carbon copy of a ghost.

Now, you’re not angry so much anymore. Only sometimes when you think about how he forced you away. How he ruined your rep with Price just to get rid of you. How he held you the last time, body pressed to yours, nose smashed against your cheek.

You’re not angry when you think about the baby. His son. Yours. You love him, already. You knew you loved him the day you decided you were going to keep him. He was your baby. Yours to love. To protect. You weren’t going to let the memories of his dad get in that way of that. You weren’t going to let yourself be haunted.

Johnny stays for a few days, sleeps on the couch. He helps you build the crib, and the dresser, and the bookshelf. You two spend the time catching up, reminiscing about the time you spent together, tromping halfway around the world.

“Trauma bonded.” You joke with an elbow to his stomach, on the good side. Not the side that he took the piece of shrapnel to that shredded his abdomen.

“Never thanked you that day. Saved my life.”

“You saved mine too. We’re even.”

When he says goodbye, you give him an ultrasound picture. You have a ton, at least six tacked to your fridge. You watch his eyes get a little misty, and you laugh.

“Come on Johnny. It’s just a picture.”

“Yeah. Of yours… and LT’s… kid.” He practically chokes on the last word, and you roll your eyes.

“Come back and see us, okay? Little guy will need an uncle.” His lips part and the he swallows before hectically nodding, sputtering promises about coming to visit as much as he can. He gives you a cell number, his, to call if you need anything or want to talk.

“Can’t imagine you’ll be available too often.” There’s no way. The 141 has a no contact rule, no communication. It’s for their safety, and everyone else’s. You both know this. He rubs his neck with a frown.

“Yah lass. But I’m still here if you need anything.” He gives you another hug before tucking the picture into a pocket and stepping off your front stoop.

If you had known what he was going to do with it, you would have never given it to him.

Simon parks two blocks away, worn print of a black blob in his hands. The edges are starting to fray, the two pieces peeling away from each other from overuse, being held too much. He’s been holding this picture in an iron grip for over a month, pulling it out from the pocket in his vest to stare at it until he forces himself to look away.

He remembers the night he got it, the night everything shifted, when the world tilted on its axis.

“LT.” Johnny had called to him that day, sought him out immediately after he got back. He didn’t want to see Johnny, didn’t want to hear what he had to say. He knew where he went. He knew he had wanted to visit you; see how you were doing.

See if you were okay. After what he did.

“I need her gone.” He had told Price, voice full of conviction. You were a distraction. A liability. Sure, you had every right to be there, but he didn’t care. He had seniority and he couldn’t think clearly. Couldn’t work. You were everywhere, in his mind, on his skin. He felt like he needed you. He tried to break himself of it at first, tried to cast you out. Disappeared on you without a word, hoping you’d give up on him. But after the bombing, the one that almost killed Johnny, and almost killed you, he couldn’t do it anymore. He could still hear the buzz of the comms, the dead silence echoing back to him when he called for you, over and over. It played on repeat in his nightmares. It dredged up old memories, reopened the scars in his mind of other losses, terrible losses that he’d never escape.

“Ghost.” Johnny’s voice was sharp, urgent. Like he sounds when something’s gone wrong. “LT, stop. I needa talk to ya.” Simon turns, stomach full of dread. He can’t place the expression on Johnny’s face. It’s grim, sure. But there’s something underneath that’s gleeful, excited. It puts him on edge, and he grunts.

“What?” There’s something in Johnny’s hand, a folded piece of paper, and he thrusts it into his chest. “What’s this?” It’s a picture of a blob with some dates at the top. There’s a name too, one he doesn’t recognize.

“Your son.”

Simon doesn’t remember a lot after that. He remembers finding a chair to slump over in, remembers staring at the ultrasound picture for a long time. Long enough that the sun went down, Johnny’s voice filtering in and out of his ears as he fought the rising panic in his chest. “- she’s doing okay but seems tired. She was trying to put the nursery together when I showed up-“ Nursery. A Nursery, like where a baby sleeps. A baby. His baby. His kid. Your kid. You were having his kid. “and she gets sick in the mornings, I could hear her throwing up from the couch but other than that she says she’s got it handled. I think-“ You were having his baby. You were making him a…. father. His mind stumbled over the word. Buried memories of his own father fought to rise to the surface, and vomit tried to crawl up his mouth. His lungs felt like they were drowning in concrete. His ears were suddenly ringing. “Ghost?” Johnny reached for his shoulder, and he pushed him away, harder than he needed to. “Whoa. Hey, LT.”

“Johnny. Shut the hell up.”

He spent the next month with the picture tucked close to his chest. He pulls it out at night, or when he’s sitting in the same spot for an extended period of time, waiting. He stares at the image, trying to work out if those are toes, or fingers, or a face. He wonders if you’re okay, if you’re taking care of yourself, if you need him. He stares at your name printed at the top, the name that he didn’t know, until now. The one you never wanted to give him, and he never understood why.

“You don’t show me your face.” you countered him one night after he made you come until you lost count, and he glowered in response, lips still wet with the taste of your cunt. The truth was, he wanted to show you his face. Wanted to take you away from the god-awful city the 141 was working through, hide you away somewhere safe and show you his face, let you memorize it the way he memorized yours.

He realized, with a carnivorous pit opening in his stomach, since he knew your name now, he could find you.

And if he could find you, others might be able to, too.

He parked two blocks away because he didn’t want to spook you. He didn’t think you’d take too kindly to a stranger pulling into your driveway at night, and he figured you’d take less kindly if that stranger was him. So, he walks. He walks down your street, eyes cataloging every house on the block, every car. Which houses have soccer nets and toys in the yard. What the speed limit was. When the last time the street had been paved or had its potholes patched. He listens to how many dogs are barking, how many engines are starting or already running. He distracts himself with it, the awareness, until he’s stepping up onto your stoop, hand hovering above your doorbell.

When you open the door, your mouth goes slack, and you stare at him like you’re seeing a ghost. He swallows, throat dry, words jammed behind his tongue. You look… off. Different. Sick. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, and you seem exhausted.

“Simon.” You say, voice half a whisper. He’s about to say hi, say sorry, say ‘can I come in?’ when he looks the rest of you over quickly and sees your belly for the first time. It’s swollen behind a sweatshirt that’s just a little bit too big, and he watches as your hand moves to rest on top of it protectively.

“Sass.” He croaks. You sigh.

“Want to come in?”

You’re dreaming of a memory. You know you are. You remember, this, this night, like it just happened yesterday. You’re on your knees, crowded against Ghost in a shitty dive bar bathroom. The music is thumping loudly through the walls, the floor sticking to your boots.

“Thas’ it.” He mumbles, hand folding over your hair as you rock back and forth. Your mouth is stuffed full of him, lips stretched and cracked, drool dripping down your chin. So full, you can’t even flatten your tongue against your molars, but you think he likes the scrape by the way he groans every time he touches the back of your throat. “Bloody hell, Sass.” His fingers flexed against your scalp, and you feel the muscles is his legs tightening. He’s close, you can feel it, so you swallow him deeper until your eyes are leaking tears and he’s panting harshly. “That’s a good girl, just like that, so-“ He floods your throat with his come, salt and sweet and metallic filling your senses as it spills down into your stomach. He pulls you up to standing, pushing your back against the wall while he tucks himself back into his pants, and you’re about to tease him for being so quick off the mark when a fist pounds against the door, Soap’s voice on the other side.

“We got a hit.”

“Now?” you whisper, and Ghost shrugs. The 141 has been here for three weeks, tailing some small fish arms dealer, waiting for him to meet with his big fish buyer. He rights his mask, calloused fingers coming forward to adjust the collar of your shirt.

“You keep your eyes open for me, yeah?” His touch traces along your cheek, and there’s something wild running beneath the surface of his skin, something you can just barely see. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, Simon. I’ll keep em open.”

The dream shifts. You’re sprinting down the street behind little fish, after he got spooked and tried to take off. He ran in your direction. You were the only option.

“Northwest!” you spit into your comms, rapidly changing direction as he does. He turns left, and then right, and then left until you’re in an outdoor market, turning in a circle as you realize you lost sight of him.

“Sassy, report.” Price calls and you swallow against your heaving breaths.

“Lost him. I’m at… don’t know. Don’t have coordinates. Some outdoor market.”

“Roger. Make your way east, we’ll scoop you.” You sigh in relief. You were a bomb tech, not a sprinter, and certainly not a stealth operator. You give another cursory glance around before turning to leave.

That’s when the shots ring out. Small pings that turn into loud screams as people run in every direction. Inwardly, you groan, and find yourself wishing you were still on the sticky bathroom floor with Simon’s cock in your mouth. Instead, you’re out here, out of breath, dodging bullets.

You duck behind a stall to pull your gun free.

“I’m taking fire.” You speak into the comms, fidgeting with your gun as you hunch over.

“Repeat.” It’s Ghost. His voice is tense, strung tight.

“Taking-“ bullets whiz by you and you pause, but keep the line open. “fire. They’re on top of one of these buildings.” It’s radio silence for a few seconds as you crawl along the stalls, low to the ground. There’s an alley a good hundred feet away, and you definitely could make it.

“Hold your position, Sass.”

“Affirmative.” You sprint for the gap between buildings, pinning close to the wall and settling into a crouch, finger light on the trigger. You want to ask why you’re holding, but the answer comes when you hear responding fire, echo for echo against whoever’s on the roof. Price calls for you, seeking your location, and you answer quickly.

Two minutes later, Ghost is kneeling in front of you, gripping your tac vest and shoving you behind the blockade that is his body. He leads you out of the alley, steps slow and sure, confident… until you hear a pop, and then a shout.

The dream shifts, again. You’re standing in the med tent with your arms crossed while he’s getting a slug dug out of his shoulder, eyes tight behind the mask. He’s saying something to you, but the words are mush coming out of his mouth, slurred together and off beat. The medic gives him a nod when he leaves, and you release a breath

“I’m alright, Sass. It’s nothin’. C’mere.” A big hand finds yours. More words, jumbled nonsense.

A doorbell rings from behind you, towards the front of the med tent and you frown.

A doorbell.

Your eyes open and you sit up in bed, curling over your ever-present bump that seems to get in the way of everything right now. You had heard a doorbell, right? You pull the ratty old sweatshirt over your body and creep down the stairs to check the door. It’s ten o’clock at night, for Christ’s sake. Who could it be?

Fucking. Soap. You curse the Scot in your head. No good, piece of shit, sweetheart John MacTavish and his bleeding heart of gold, god damn him, you’re gonna-

Simon clears his throat behind you, from where he stands, his massive body shifting uncomfortably in your living room. You close your eyes and try to breathe through your nose. Anxiety builds in your stomach, fear prickling along your scalp. What does he want? A dark thought shudders through you, the realization that if Simon Riley wanted, he could take your son. He could wait you out, disappear with him, and never be seen again. Two ghosts.

“Simon-“

“Were you gonna tell me, Sass?” He has the gall to sound put out, indignant, and you take another deep breath to calm yourself.

“That’s a joke, right?” You turn, face pinched with irritation. “You know, maybe I could have told you, if you hadn’t gotten me fired, if you hadn’t gone and destroyed my credibility with Price.”

“You went on bloody leave, and your credibility is not destroyed.”

“Yeah, sure.” You roll your eyes and then take a second to look at him, closely. His massive legs are straining in a pair of jeans, black sweatshirt with a hood pulled over his head and the infamous balaclava. He’s not wearing the paint, which surprises you, but you keep it to yourself. He looks good, and your hormones rush in your blood.

You don’t care. Just deliver the speech and give him what he wants. The out.

“How-“ he starts but you cut him off. He’s not in control here, you are.

“Am I? Or how far along am I?” He says nothing. “I’m okay. And I’m just over six months.” Your hand strokes your belly almost subconsciously, trying to settle the incessant kicking. He tracks you with his eyes, watching your palm move back and forth. You sigh. “Do you want to sit?” You motion to the couch, and he nods, slowly, lowering himself down next to you, posture rigid and stiff. He looks so uncomfortable, you almost laugh. “Look, Ghost-“

“Simon.” Simon. His accent is thick when he corrects you, and something tightens in your heart.

“Simon, you don’t have to do this. We don’t need anything from you. You’re off the hook.” His head snaps from the clenched fists that sit in his lap to your face. “I can do this. You don’t even have to be on the birth certificate. I have it all handled.” Lie. You’re lying to him, straight to his face, but he doesn’t know that. You don’t want him to know that you don’t have it handled. That you could be on bedrest in a matter of weeks, that you’re sick all the time and your PTSD is lingering in the back of your mind like a monster, waiting for you, watching for the moment you break so it can devour you whole.

“Who’s we?” his question snaps you out of your spiral.

“What?”

“You said ‘we don’t need anything from you’, who’s we? Is there someone else?” The words cut. They’re sharp, expectant, and he takes another look around the house. You know he’s already catalogued it, already looked for signs of another, checked to see if anything was amiss. For a moment, you’re tempted to tell him there is someone else in your life, someone else in your bed. Someone holding your hand at all the appointments, someone rubbing your back as you chuck your entire stomach into the toilet every morning.

“N-no. It’s just me and-“

“Our son.” He finishes for you, and you close your eyes again against the swell of anger.

“My son.” You snap and if possible, his body gets even more tense. Your skin crawls under the sweatshirt and you stand abruptly, desperate to put distance between the two of you. “He’s my son, my baby. You haven’t been here; you have no right to just waltz in here like nothing’s wrong or like you have some claim to him.”

“I put him in ya, Sass. He’s my kid too.” Your breath catches in your throat. His entitlement burns in your blood, and you want to lash out. You have half a mind to hit him, strike him as hard as you can in hopes that maybe he’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

“You screwed me, Ghost.” You hiss his call sign, reverting back to it, distancing yourself from the man behind the mask. “I don’t know why you’re even here. You used me, then you treated me like trash and kicked me to the curb. Don’t pretend like you care now.” He stands from the couch, fingers raking down his thighs. You take a step back immediately.

“I wronged you. I know you hate me, but we should talk about-“

“Don’t. Just, let’s not do this, okay? We’re fine without you. We’re okay on our own. You don’t have to be here.” Silence fills the air between you two, and you curl your fingers into fists before you turn on your heel and stalk into the kitchen. Your hands are shaking, and you lean against the countertop to steady yourself, head spinning when you close your eyes. Why is he doing this? The floor creaks beneath his steps, and he turns the corner into the kitchen, coming to stand in front of you. He dwarfs you, and the size difference that used to thrill you now fills you with anxiety. You were going to have to give birth to his baby, after all. His giant, 94% percentile “large for gestational age” baby, as your doctor called it. He huffs a breath, and you glance up at him, noticing the furrow of his brow, the tense lines of his muscles. He looks nervous.

“I- I’d like… I want to show you something.” Without giving you a chance to respond, he reaches for the bottom of the balaclava, peeling it up his neck before pulling free of it completely. Your brain short circuits. What, did he just… what? Your mouth drops open in shock as you stare. You can feel your heartrate increasing, and you blink in disbelief. He’s so… handsome. Handsome in a way you weren’t expecting. Not soft but, gentle in a way that surprises you. Strong nose, small scar on his cheek.

“Simon.” You whisper. He takes a hesitant step towards you, and then another when you don’t move away. He says your name, your real name. Not Sass, and you freeze where you stand. He knows your name.

“It’s on the ultrasound.” He murmurs. He’s still standing so close to you, you can smell him, can feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“Simon-“

“I’m mad for ya. Always have been. If you give me a chance, I’d-“

“Stop.” You cut him off before he can say anything else, before he can wear you down even more. “I… this… it’s complicated and… it’s late. I’m tired.” Cop out. You weren’t mentally prepared for this. You had hoped you would never have to have this conversation, you assumed you’d never see him again.

“Okay.” You breathe a sigh of relief when he relents so easily. Simon was used to executing and resulting, immediately and favorably. “I’m staying close.” Your sigh of relief catches in your chest. Fuck. “I’ll come by… tomorrow.” It’s not a request, but you’re too tired to argue.

“Okay.” You agree. You can button this up tomorrow. You can figure out what he wants and then send him on his way, get rid of him. You’re not giving into him, into whatever this is, so easily, just because he took the mask off. You can-

“Sass.” His hand is reaching towards your belly, and he’s watching you with an almost hopeful, longing expression. It’s hard to tell, because you’ve only ever been able to see his eyes. Now, the eyes that you were so used to interpreting on their own had suddenly become much more complex. “Can I?”

“Um. Uh… sure.” You’re treading into dangerous territory here, but you can’t find it in yourself to refuse him. Our son. His words from earlier echo in your mind. His palm presses to your skin, resting softly against the swell, thumb stroking into your sweatshirt. There’s a kick, a soft one, right near his hand, and you watch his face change, the mystery and wonder encompassing it sparking pesky hormone tears behind your eyes. Oh no. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. You try to hold them back, but it’s useless. You’re staring at his face, his whole, unguarded, unmasked face while he feels his son kick for the first time.

It's too much. You step back.

He clears his throat.

“Right. Well, tomorrow then.”

The next fic in this series is here.

#simon ghost riley x reader #tw pregnancy #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #pregnant reader #female reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x you #peaches writes #sassy series

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mononijikayu · 1 month

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tears are getting sober – gojo satoru

With a heavy heart, Gojo Satoru began to speak, his words a balm for the wounds that still lingered within him. He told you about his life over the past decade, the trials and tribulations he had faced, and the moments of joy that had flickered amidst the darkness. He talks as though you were still here. As though you were still alive. He teases one moment and he laughs about a memory the next. You were never dead to him. Not for one second in these past ten years did he get used to talking about you in the past tense. He thinks his brain can’t ever process the thought. He could never understand it. And he has come to accept it, after all this time. Nothing about it would ever come to be the past. You will always be his present. You will always be his future. He did not doubt that one second.

GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - JJK 0, 2006/2007 - 2017;

WARNING/s: Angst, One Sided Romance, Pining, Grief, Mourning, Death, Depiction of Trauma, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Blood, Depiction of Corpses, Depiction of Injury, Reminiscing;

masterlist

listen: tears are getting sober by victoria

note: i've been thinking about this for the past few days and i wrote this while on my online law class. this is the satoru pov of ghost of you!!! enjoy it!!! i hope you have a good day, i love you all!!!

HE THINKS LOVING SOMEONE IS A TOUGH JOB. As Satoru approached his twenty-eighth year, with the threshold of twenty-nine looming ever closer, he found himself grappling with the complexities of love and human connection. It wasn't that he didn't love others—of course he did. He was a human being, after all, with the same innate desires and needs as anyone else. Love was not just a luxury for him; it was a necessity, an essential part of his existence.

Yet, despite this fundamental longing for love and connection, Satoru couldn't shake the feeling of distance that seemed to separate him from those around him. Even in the company of close friends like Shoko and Yaga-sensei, he couldn't escape the sense of being an outsider, a solitary figure navigating a world that had grown increasingly unfamiliar.

He remembered a time when things had been different, when he had felt more human, more connected to those around him. There had been moments of genuine intimacy and camaraderie, moments when he had been able to express himself freely and without reservation. But as the years passed and the weight of responsibility bore down upon him, those moments grew fewer and farther between, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

Now, on the cusp of another year, Satoru couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to that sense of connection, that feeling of being truly human. It was a longing that gnawed at him, a yearning for something he feared he might never recapture. And yet, deep down, he held onto the hope that someday, somehow, he would once again find himself among those who understood him, who accepted him for who he truly was.

Because during that time, he had a choice.

Because at the time, he can see Suguru smile.

Because at the time, you were still smiling alive.

There was never a moment when Satoru didn't love you. It was an all-encompassing feeling that seemed to permeate every facet of his being, impossible to ignore or suppress. Even if he had tried, he knew deep down that his love for you would persist, unwavering and unyielding. It was the kind of love that consumed him entirely, the kind that defied reason and logic.

As he reflected on his feelings, Satoru couldn't help but marvel at the power of young love. It was a force unlike any other, capable of transforming even the most mundane moments into something extraordinary. Even now, as he stood on the precipice of adulthood, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to you, the center of his universe.

He vividly remembered the day he first laid eyes on you, a moment etched into his memory with startling clarity. It was a day like any other, until it wasn't. Everything changed the instant you walked into his life, your presence casting a vibrant spectrum of colors upon his once monochrome world.

The sight of you, adorned in your dark blue uniform with that bright yellow hoodie, was like a revelation to him. Suddenly, the world seemed to burst into bloom, vibrant and full of life. The delicate petals of chrysanthemums mirrored the rosy hue of your cheeks, while the golden rays of the sun felt warmer when filtered through your radiant smile.

In that moment, the confines of his existence melted away, replaced by a sense of boundless possibility and wonder. The four corners of the room no longer felt suffocating; instead, they expanded to accommodate the enormity of his newfound emotions.

From that day forward, you became his guiding light, his source of inspiration and joy. Every smile, every wave, every word exchanged between you was a testament to the profound connection you both shared. And as Satoru gazed upon you, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the color you had brought into his life, forever altering the course of his destiny.

The mission briefing room was abuzz with excitement as Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you gathered around the table, eagerly awaiting your first assignment as a team. Yaga-sensei had to work hard to stop the gossiping from all of you. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, each of you eager to prove yourselves in the field. Much so, he and Suguru—who realized that they were polar opposites of the other, began to think of each other as the only rivals worth having. Satoru thinks he can one up the guy with the bangs. He could do it properly too.

As the mission details were laid out before you, Satoru couldn't help but steal glances in your direction, his heart racing with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You and Shoko were conversing about how best to provide support and defense while Suguru busied himself with asking Yaga–sensei about the best ways to conduct offense campaigns.

He had been looking forward to this moment ever since he had learned that you would be joining their team, and now that it was finally here, he found himself feeling more determined than ever to make a good impression.

With the mission parameters set, the four of you set out into the night, the cool breeze of autumn stirring the leaves as you made your way through the city streets. The mission itself went off without a hitch, each of you working together seamlessly to accomplish your objectives.

You and Suguru both gained new cursed creatures, which made you quite happy. You like having good friends in these creatures, you said. Somehow it reminded you of Pokemon. He didn’t say anything, he liked Digimon too. But he supposed, if you ask him one day—he’d watch Pokemon for you.

As you made your way back to Jujutsu High, all of you were too exhausted to come discuss any dinner plans. Shoko suggested you guys stop by a convenient store. This is the one of few times Satoru’s ever been to a convenient store.

Before, he had been far more confused than anything else, no one would expect the head of the Gojo Clan to know about the outer world beyond what he’s been told. But now that he has experienced it, he found his way around it. It felt like a comfort, he supposed, that he’s able to do this at all.

Satoru found himself beside you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Shoko was by the counter, pushing a fake ID with a grin on her face. Suguru was just behind her, his face unimpressed about her rule breaking in order to buy some cigarettes.

"Hey," Satoru said, his voice soft as he fell into step beside you. "Great job back there. You really held your own out there."

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at his words. "Thanks, Gojo–kun," you replied, your voice warm with gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at your words, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the sight of your smile. “You know you don’t have to call me so formally. Aren’t we friends?”

You look up to him again, away from the sandwich section. You blink at him. “Hm?”

“You call Geto and Ieiri by their first names.”

“And?”

“Why not me?”

You blink again, and then you laugh at him. He could feel more warmth emit through his body. Your laughter was such a beautiful sound. Far more gorgeous than the temple bells he heard in all his life. You were so beautiful.

“You could just ask me, you know.” You replied to him, smiling at him. “If that’s what you like, Gojo–kun–”

“Satoru,”

“Satoru–kun,” You corrected yourself, eyeing his happy gaze. “Then you should call me by my name too, you know?”

His lips slowly quivered into a smile, his dark peering shades lowering to reveal his eyes. “You have yourself a deal!”

As you browse the aisles together, you both share your opinions about different types of food. You liked a lot of savory dishes, Satoru loved really sweet things — which you had in common, in a sense. But well, you preferred dark chocolate to his sweet milk choco. You liked matcha and coffee more than you liked choco and strawberry milk.

But you both expressed a good love for mochi ice cream. You told Satoru that you’ve had it since you were a kid and you’ve never looked back since. Satoru’s continually eaten it since he discovered it a couple of months ago.

You got everything you wanted by then, Satoru insisting he should pay for your basket even though you were arguing with him that you had enough money to cover your expenses. But that had become a bad idea because then Shoko had goaded him with ‘What about us, Satoru?’ followed by Suguru’s lips quivering in a Cheshire grin in the back. Satoru did not care. He thinks he could pay for all your meals for the rest of his life and he would be happy — because you pouted at him that way. And it was adorable.

Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement building within him. As you all walked towards the train station, he started reaching for his own plastic bag as he kept up to your pace. He reached out to grab a box, offering it to you with a small smile. You looked at him as you both stopped for a moment, Shoko and Suguru lost in their conversation as they walked in front of you both.

"I thought you might like these," He said, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “I didn’t know which brand you liked best. But this is my favorite. Consider it a reward for a job well done."

Your orbs shone like stars. “You didn’t have to, Satoru–kun.”

“I bought this for you.” He tells her, tenderly. “You can enjoy it.”

You accepted the box slowly with a grateful smile, your eyes meeting him as you thanked him. In that moment, Satoru felt his heart swell with affection, the warmth of your smile sending a rush of happiness coursing through him. You opened the box and looked at him and grinned. You pull out one mochi container and give it to him. It was his turn to blink.

“It’s not fun to eat it alone.” You grinned wider, taking one and putting the box inside your plastic bag. You remove it from the container and start munching into the mochi. You looked at him encouragingly. “Go on, Satoru–kun!”

As the two of you made your way back to Jujutsu High, the taste of victory and the sweetness of mochi ice cream lingering on your lips, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. And as he stole glances in your direction, he knew that this was only the beginning of something truly special.

Satoru sat alone in his room, a single mochi resting delicately between his fingers as he stared off into the distance. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves outside his window and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on his desk. But in the silence, his thoughts were consumed by one thing and one thing only—you.

As he brought the mochi to his lips, his mind wandered to memories of you, your laughter echoing in his ears like a sweet melody. He remembered the way your eyes would light up with joy whenever you indulged in your favorite treat, the happiness radiating from you like a beacon of light in his life.

But now, as he savored the familiar taste of the mochi, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The once sweet flavor seemed to have lost its luster, the simple pleasure of indulging in his favorite snack now tinged with a bitter aftertaste.

With a sigh, Satoru set the mochi aside, his appetite suddenly vanished as he found himself consumed by thoughts of you. He missed the warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way you would brighten up his darkest days with just a simple gesture or word.

Closing his eyes, Satoru allowed himself to bask in the memories of your time together, his heart heavy with longing. He missed you more than words could express, and in that moment, he realized just how much he craved your presence in his life.

As the minutes ticked by, Satoru remained lost in thought, his mind drifting back to the memories of you. And as he sat alone in his room, the taste of the mochi still lingering on his lips, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness gnawing at his heart—a longing for the sweetness of your presence that he feared he may never taste again.

As Satoru reflected on the passage of time, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the days gone by. It had been a decade since you left, yet in his heart, it felt as though it were just yesterday. Time may have marched on, but for him, it would always be 2007—a year etched into his memory like a precious gem.

In his mind's eye, he could still see you as clearly as if you were standing before him, your laughter echoing in his ears and your smile lighting up his world. Despite the years that had passed, he knew that a part of him would always be with you, forever frozen in that moment in time.

And he wasn't alone in his longing. Suguru, too, harbored a deep affection for you, his heartache mirroring Satoru's own. They had both loved you fiercely, with a passion that transcended time and distance. And even now, a decade later, the memories of you still lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what once was and what could have been.

As Satoru gazed out at the world beyond, he couldn't help but wonder if you ever thought of them, if you ever longed for the warmth of their embrace as much as they longed for yours. In his heart, he knew that some bonds were unbreakable, woven together by the threads of love and longing that refused to be severed by the passage of time.

And so, as the years stretched out before him, Satoru held onto the memories of you, cherishing them like precious treasures. For in his heart, he knew that no matter where life took him, a part of him would always belong to you, just as a part of you would always belong to him.

And just as Suguru cursed you back to life,

You left and cursed Satoru back to life too.

He would never love anyone like he loved you.

He lived, just as Suguru does, to remember you.

Because that’s all he could ever truly do.

HE WAS SURE YOU WERE THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE. As Satoru wrestled with his emotions, a tumultuous storm raged within him, tearing at the seams of his heart with every passing moment. He knew better than to say anything to you, for he believed that you deserved nothing but boundless happiness. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find true happiness with him, knowing the burden of his past and the shadows that loomed over his future.

In his eyes, you were a free spirit, a radiant gem in a world filled with darkness and uncertainty. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing you trapped in the confines of his world, shackled by the political machinations of the clans and the dangers that lurked at every corner. Even if you were to reciprocate his feelings, he feared that you would be sacrificing too much of yourself in the process.

The specter of his father's untimely demise and his mother's constant struggles loomed large in Satoru's mind, a grim reminder of the dangers that surrounded him. He knew that he could protect you, that he was the strongest among them. But he couldn't shake the feeling that you deserved so much more—a life free from the shadows that haunted his own existence.

And so, Satoru resigned himself to loving you from afar, content to cherish you as a friend and companion. He found solace in the knowledge that he could still keep you in his life, even if it meant keeping his own feelings hidden deep within his heart. For him, your happiness was paramount, and if loving you from a distance was the price he had to pay, then so be it.

When you confided in him about your feelings for Suguru, Satoru felt no malice or jealousy in his heart. Instead, he embraced your words with a sense of understanding and acceptance, knowing that your happiness was all that truly mattered. And as he watched you walk away, his heart heavy with unspoken longing, he couldn't help but silently wish for your happiness, even if it meant sacrificing his own.

You four were sent on a mission again — not too much of a hassle, considering it was just a minor deity and no one was injured, which Shoko seemed pleased about. She and Suguru were getting the camp site’s benches ready, so you all could eat dinner together. It was rare to be in such places, so you all decided that this was an opportune moment to eat some of the extra packed meals you brought along.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the tranquil waters of the lake as you and Satoru sat together on the grassy bank, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair. It was a peaceful afternoon, the perfect setting for a heart-to-heart conversation.

As you gazed out at the shimmering water, a sense of nervousness fluttered in your chest, your thoughts consumed by the confession you had been holding onto for so long. Taking a deep breath, you turned to Satoru, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Satoru, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice hesitant as you searched for the right words. "I... I think I've fallen in love with Suguru."

Satoru's expression softened at your words, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and understanding. He had suspected as much, yet hearing you say it out loud still came as a shock. But despite the pang of heartache that echoed in his chest, he knew that your happiness was paramount.

"Really?" Satoru replied, his voice gentle as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "That's wonderful news, you know? Suguru is a great guy, and I can see why you've fallen for him."

Your heart swelled with gratitude at Satoru's supportive words, a sense of relief washing over you as you realized that you had made the right decision in confiding in him. His encouragement gave you the strength you needed to finally take the next step in your journey.

"Yeah, he really is," you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. "I've been thinking about telling him how I feel, and I think today might be the day."

Satoru nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with genuine warmth as he squeezed your shoulder gently. "You should go for it," he encouraged, his voice filled with sincerity. "Life's too short to hold back your feelings. And who knows? Maybe Suguru feels the same way about you."

With Satoru's words of encouragement ringing in your ears, you felt a renewed sense of determination wash over you. Taking a deep breath, you stood up from the grassy bank, ready to seize the moment and finally confess your feelings to Suguru.

"Thanks, Satoru," you said, turning to face him with a grateful smile. "I couldn't have done this without you."

As you walked away, the weight of your confession lingered in the air, casting a shadow over Satoru's heart. He watched you go with a bittersweet smile, his own feelings swirling beneath the surface like a tempestuous sea. Every step you took towards Suguru felt like a dagger through his heart, each moment a painful reminder of what could have been.

But despite the ache in his chest, Satoru knew that he had to push his own feelings aside for the sake of your happiness. He had always been there for you, offering unwavering support and encouragement whenever you needed it. And now, as you embarked on this new chapter of your life, he couldn't bear to let his own pain stand in the way.

So he plastered on a smile, masking the turmoil within as he watched you disappear from view. Deep down, he longed to hold you back, to tell you how he truly felt. But he knew that now wasn't the time—not when your heart was set on someone else.

Instead, Satoru forced himself to focus on the positives, finding solace in the knowledge that you were pursuing your own happiness. He reminded himself that he had played a part in helping you find the courage to confess your feelings to Suguru, and for that, he felt a sense of pride.

But as he turned away from the lake, the ache in his heart remained, a constant reminder of the love he had kept hidden for so long. And though he knew that he would always cherish the memories of your time together, he couldn't help but wonder what could have been if he had been brave enough to confess his own feelings to you.

‘No,’ He thought to himself as he took a deep breath. ‘It’s better this way. There’s no one I trust more than him. Suguru would be good. It’s better this way.’

As Satoru grappled with his inner turmoil, he often sought solace in the mantra that he had no regrets. Yet, as he reflected on the choices he had made, a nagging sense of remorse crept into his heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should have told you the truth, should have confessed his feelings before it was too late.

In hindsight, he couldn't help but wonder how things might have been different if he had been brave enough to lay bare his heart to you. Perhaps you would still be alive, by his side, sharing in the joys and sorrows of life together. But now, as he looked back on the past, he knew that dwelling on such thoughts was futile.

It was too late for "what ifs" and regrets now. The past was set in stone, immutable and unchangeable. All he could do was carry the weight of his unspoken feelings and forge ahead, determined to honor your memory in the best way he knew how.

And so, despite the ache in his heart and the burden of his silent regrets, Satoru resolved to live each day to the fullest, cherishing the memories of your time together and carrying your spirit with him wherever he went. For in the end, he knew that dwelling on the past would only serve to hold him back from embracing the future that lay ahead.

You were too far for him to reach and too far for him to love.

You were like that when you were alive and now even in death.

But he thinks he will never love anyone else as he had loved you.

In this life and in the next and the other one after that, it’s only you.

In that next life, he hopes that he could finally tell you everything.

HE MEMORIZED EVERY MOMENT HE HAD WITH YOU. As Satoru's mind replayed the harrowing scene of finding you that fateful day, the vivid imagery seared into his memory with agonizing clarity. Your blood, a stark contrast against the dark cavern walls, painted a gruesome picture of the tragedy that had unfolded. It coated the steep stairs, pooling around your lifeless form, a haunting testament to the violence that had taken place.

As Satoru stood frozen amidst the horror of the scene before him, the weight of the moment bore down upon him like a suffocating blanket, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable heaviness. The sight and smell of your blood, mingled with Riko's, assaulted his senses, leaving him reeling with a nauseating mixture of shock and despair.

Your blood, brighter than any ruby stone he had ever seen, stained the ground beneath him, a vivid reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded in the depths of the cavern. It coated his shoes, a tangible testament to the violence that had torn through your lives with merciless force.

But amidst the horror, there was a poignant sense of sacrifice and bravery that lingered in the air. You clung to Riko with every last bit of strength and warmth you possessed, a selfless act of protection that spoke volumes of your innate goodness. Satoru had always known you to be a good person, perhaps too good for the cruel and unforgiving world of Jujutsu sorcery. He had feared for your safety, knowing that your tender heart could easily become a target in a world devoid of mercy.

The realization that you had died protecting another, that you had given your life to save someone else, sent a shiver down Satoru's spine. Died. Lived. The words echoed in his mind, their meaning lost in the unfathomable depths of grief and disbelief. They were both past tense, both irrevocably done, leaving him grappling with the unbearable finality of your loss.

In that moment, Satoru felt the overwhelming urge to scream, to lash out against the cruel injustice of it all. But as he stood frozen in place, his body trembling with suppressed emotion, he knew that there was nothing he could do to change what had happened. All he could do was bear witness to the devastating aftermath of your sacrifice, haunted by the knowledge that he had lost you forever.

For Satoru, who had always known himself to be the honored one, a god among men, the scene before him was a brutal awakening. Despite his divinity, he stood immobilized, his mind unable to process the enormity of the loss before him. You lay cold and lifeless, your once bright eyes now devoid of the light that had captivated him so.

As he knelt beside you, his heart heavy with grief, Satoru felt the weight of his own mortality pressing down upon him. In that moment, he shed the facade of godhood, allowing himself to embrace the raw humanity of his emotions. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he mourned the loss of everything good in his life, stolen from him in the blink of an eye.

And as he grieved over your lifeless form, Satoru realized the bitter truth that even his godlike powers were powerless to bring you back from the brink of death. In that moment of profound sorrow, he was just a man, left to mourn the loss of the one he had loved so dearly, forever haunted by the knowledge that he could never bring you back to life.

As the days passed and the reality of your absence settled in, Satoru couldn't help but notice the profound impact your death had on Suguru. It was as if a darkness had descended upon his once bright and vibrant friend, twisting him into something unrecognizable. Satoru watched in horror as Suguru's grief morphed into madness, consuming him with a relentless fury that knew no bounds.

It was Suguru who had led the charge to burn the village to the ground, a devastating act of vengeance fueled by the pain of losing you. And as the flames engulfed the once peaceful streets, Satoru felt a sense of helplessness wash over him, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the chaos and destruction that Suguru had unleashed.

But perhaps the most haunting moment came when Suguru turned to him, eyes burning with a fierce intensity, and posed a question that would haunt Satoru for years to come. "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru?" Suguru's voice was like a whisper in the darkness, his words laden with a weight that Satoru could hardly bear. "Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?"

It was a question that cut to the core of his identity, forcing Satoru to confront the very essence of who he was. And as he grappled with the weight of Suguru's words, a sense of panic began to claw its way up from the depths of his soul.

In the solitude of his bedroom, Satoru was overcome by a wave of overwhelming emotion, his chest tightening with each labored breath as tears streamed down his face. He cried out for you, his voice choked with anguish and longing, as he reached out for the comfort that could never be found.

In that moment of profound despair, Satoru realized just how deeply he had loved you, and how your absence had left a void in his heart that could never be filled. And as he lay there, trembling and broken, he knew that he would spend the rest of his days haunted by the memory of your loss, forever yearning for the one he could never have again.

The weight of his grief was like an anchor, dragging Satoru down into the depths of despair. With each passing day, the pain of your absence grew more unbearable, a constant reminder of all that he had lost. The thought of leaving to find you crossed his mind more than once, a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating grip of his sorrow. But every time he entertained the idea, he was met with the haunting memory of your eyes, filled with judgment, disapproval, and above all, hurt.

In those moments, Satoru realized that he could never bear to be the cause of your pain. The mere thought of seeing the disappointment in your gaze was enough to send a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of the love and compassion that had always flowed between you. He couldn't bear to imagine you grieving for him, carrying the burden of his loss on your shoulders.

No, Satoru knew that he couldn't allow himself to wallow in self-pity and despair, not when your memory was still so fresh in his mind. He owed it to you to honor your legacy, to live his life in a way that would make you proud. Despite the overwhelming grief that threatened to consume him, he resolved to carry on, to strive for nothing less than your happiness.

For in the end, that was all that truly mattered to him—to see you smiling, to hear your laughter, to know that you were safe and content. And so, with renewed determination, Satoru vowed to carry your memory with him always, a guiding light in the darkness of his grief.

And so as those tears dried each and every day.

Your picture was tucked away in his inner pockets.

He thinks he had to live on, so that you could live on.

He thinks that he stays alive for you, no matter what.

SATORU THINKS HE REMEMBERS YOU LIKE THIS. On that rare day off, when the usual hustle and bustle of Jujutsu missions seemed to fade into the background, you and Satoru found yourselves with an unexpected opportunity to spend time together. With Suguru and Shoko occupied elsewhere and Haibara and Nanami tied up with their own commitments, it was just the two of you left to fend for yourselves.

As you pleaded with Satoru to accompany you on a day of exploration, he initially feigned reluctance, claiming he had other things to attend to. But your persistence wore down his defenses, and soon enough, he found himself agreeing to join you on your adventure.

Despite his protests, Satoru couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled within him at the prospect of spending the day with you. Your infectious enthusiasm and boundless energy were like magnets, drawing him irresistibly towards you.

Dressed in vibrant pastel hues that seemed to complement your radiant personality, you looked utterly captivating in Satoru's eyes. He couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you, a rush of warmth flooding his chest as he marveled at your beauty.

As you set out together, exploring the nooks and crannies of the world outside the confines of the Jujutsu world, Satoru found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. Every laugh, every smile, every twinkle in your eye seemed to etch itself into his memory, imprinting itself upon his heart in indelible ink.

Despite the uncertainty and chaos that often defined their lives as Jujutsu sorcerers, in that moment, everything seemed perfect. It was just the two of them, lost in the magic of the day, reveling in each other's company and the simple joy of being alive. And as Satoru watched you, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the precious moments they shared together, and the gift of your presence in his life.

As you and Satoru ventured deeper into the botanical garden, the serenity of the surroundings enveloped you like a comforting embrace. Each step you took seemed to lead you further away from the chaos of the world outside, immersing you in a tranquil oasis of greenery and blossoms.

The air was redolent with the delicate fragrance of flowers in full bloom, their perfumed scents mingling together to create a symphony of olfactory delight. Every inhalation fills your lungs with the sweet perfume of roses, lilies, and jasmine, transporting you to a realm of pure sensory bliss.

Sunlight filtered through the lush canopy overhead, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow upon the verdant foliage below. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze provided a soothing soundtrack to your leisurely stroll, accompanied by the occasional chirp of a distant bird or the soft hum of buzzing insects.

As you meandered along the winding paths, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the beauty that surrounded you. Vibrant bursts of color greeted your eyes at every turn, as though nature itself were putting on a dazzling display just for you.

You reached out to touch the velvety petals of a blooming rose, marveling at the delicate intricacy of its design. Satoru watched you with a fond smile, his own eyes alight with appreciation for the natural splendor that surrounded you.

Together, you continued to explore the botanical garden, each moment filled with a sense of peace and tranquility that seemed to wash away the cares of the world. In this enchanted sanctuary, time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor every precious moment spent in each other's company amidst the beauty of nature.

As you strolled hand in hand, Satoru couldn't help but notice the way your eyes lit up with wonder at the sight of each new flower you encountered. He found himself captivated by the joy reflected in your expression, a stark contrast to the darkness that often clouded his own thoughts.

At one point, you paused in front of a bed of sunflowers, your favorite flowers, and exclaimed in delight at their cheerful appearance. Satoru watched you with a fond smile, taking in the way the golden petals seemed to dance in the gentle breeze, illuminated by the warm rays of the sun.

"What is it about sunflowers that you love so much?" he asked, genuinely curious to hear your thoughts. He admired the way your face lit up as you spoke about the flowers, your passion and enthusiasm shining through with every word.

You turned to him, a soft smile playing on your lips as you explained, "Sunflowers always remind me of hope and resilience. No matter how dark things may seem, they always find a way to turn towards the sun, seeking out its warmth and light. I find that incredibly inspiring."

Satoru listened intently, his heart swelling with warmth at the sincerity of your words. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the botanical garden and the company of someone he cherished deeply, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him.

As you continued your leisurely stroll through the garden, Satoru found himself feeling grateful for the simple moments of joy that you brought into his life. In your presence, he felt a glimmer of hope and optimism, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still beauty to be found in the world. And for that, he was truly grateful.

In those ten years, not a day had gone by without Gojo Satoru thinking of you, longing for the warmth of your smile and the gentle touch of your hand. Your absence weighed heavily on his soul, a constant reminder of the void that had been left behind when you departed from this world.

As he stood before your grave, surrounded by a sea of sunflowers swaying in the breeze, Satoru felt a wave of bittersweet nostalgia wash over him. The vibrant blooms seemed to echo the radiant spirit you had embodied in life, their golden petals a testament to the joy and beauty you had brought into his world.

With trembling fingers, Satoru traced the letters of your name etched into the stone, each stroke a silent prayer for your peace and happiness in the afterlife. Though he couldn't bring himself to admit it, a part of him still clung to the hope that somehow, someway, you were still out there, watching over him from afar.

But deep down, Satoru knew the truth. You were gone, forever beyond his reach, and no amount of longing or regret could change that fact. And so, with a heavy heart, he bowed his head in silent reverence, offering up a silent vow to honor your memory for as long as he lived.

In that moment, amidst the sunflowers and the gentle rustle of leaves, Gojo Satoru found solace in the quiet beauty of your final resting place. And as he stood there, lost in his memories. Memories that were dried and gone, leaves that had seen autumn over and over. Memories that had gotten him through the coldest whispers of winter and frostbite.

As Satoru knelt before your grave, he couldn't shake the haunting realization that your soul was bound to this earth, tethered to Suguru by an unbreakable bond of love and guilt. He had messaged Suguru, informing him of your final resting place near Gojo Manor, but he knew deep down that Suguru wouldn't visit you. Not out of lack of care, but out of overwhelming guilt and remorse for the role he played in your tragic demise.

Suguru had loved you too much to let you go, and in his desperation to protect you, he had unwittingly sealed your fate. Your body lay here, beneath the soft earth and sunflower blooms, but your soul was intertwined with Suguru's, trapped in a perpetual cycle of longing and regret. He liked to believe that you split your soul, that somehow you gave him a part of you. To feel that he would not truly be alone. But he knew better than that. He was deluding himself. Still, he did not care. He promised to take care of you. And he would. He’d always take care of you, as he had these past ten years. As he would all his life.

As Satoru gazed upon your grave, a sense of profound sadness washed over him, mingling with the guilt and remorse that weighed heavily on his own heart. He had failed to protect you, failed to keep you safe from harm, and now he was left to mourn your loss in silence. No one truly could love you like he and Suguru had. No one knows this pain other than his best friend.

"Hey there," he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Ten years... feels like a lifetime."

He thinks his brain can’t ever process the thought. He could never understand it. And he has come to accept it, after all this time. Nothing about it would ever come to be the past. You will always be his present. You will always be his future. He did not doubt that one second.

"I've been doing my best to honor your memory," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "But it's never easy, you know? Sometimes, it feels like I'm just going through the motions, pretending that everything's okay when it's not."

As he spoke, Satoru's hand reached up to his silk bandages, lifting it away to reveal the vibrant blue eyes that had long been hidden from the world. You have loved his eyes at one point. You told him how they remind you of the blue sky in summer. Yet now that you were gone, he couldn't find it in his heart to let the world witness them again.

For a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let his guard down and show you the depths of his pain. You were the one person, besides Suguru, that saw every facet of him. Perhaps you will always the the person left in this world, even when you weren't here anymore, that will see such side of him. You were the person he could only ever be so truthful to.

"I miss you," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day, in every way, I miss you. And I wish... I wish I could turn back time, change the course of fate, and bring you back to me. But I know that's not possible."

With a heavy sigh, Satoru replaced his blindfold, shielding his eyes once more from the world. But as he rose to his feet and prepared to leave, a sense of peace settled over him. Though you were gone, your memory would live on in his heart forever, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him.

"Rest well, my dear," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your headstone. "I'll always be here, watching over you. And I promise... I'll never forget you."

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ruiniel · 2 months

Text

What You Choose

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader

Count: 2K

Rating: T (M later)

On AO3

Summary: I recently watched/read KNY and have emotions. Likely done before, but wanted to get this out of my system so wrote it down. Rengoku survives the fight with Akaza, but some battles are not so straightforward.

Tags & Warnings: Rengoku lives AU, multichapter, blood, injury, pining, angst, second person POV, demon slayer!reader, tsuguko!reader, alternating POV, Oblivious Rengoku Kyojuro, for a while at least, Death, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut

All characters depicted are 18+

Everything fades. His body is going numb, his vision blurs as he stares down at his reflection in the dark pool of his own blood, unable to lift his head. The cries of grief surrounding him become dim and scatter like dying leaves from his consciousness.

I've done my duty, I've given my all.

The last he remembers is a small, clawed hand and a sudden, blooming flame bursting through his shattered torso, scalding him from within in ways his own fire never could.

I see... So this is what it feels like… to burn.

The balmy weather outside has no effect on you, seated at the side of the infirmary bed, your head in your hands.

“Perhaps you should go and rest. There’s been no change, and we’ll be sure to inform you of any developments.”

Aoi’s words are void of their usual sternness. You’ve heard them before, and yet��

“I’m fine, I really am.” You gaze back at the prone figure lying motionless beneath crisp white sheets. His gold and crimson hair is messy, and you’ve never seen him so pale, his features so sunken. The bandage covering his left eye is stained red in places, the usually smiling lips dry and bloodless.

Aoi sighs but says nothing else, and soon her departing steps echo against the walls.

I can’t. I can’t leave his side. You wish your thought could reach him, down to whatever place he’s struggling in now. You ball your hands into fists over your knees, a poor attempt at holding your composure. Please, come back. Please.

Weeks have passed since the mission on the train, since your group has returned with wounded bodies and spirits, though none in such a critical state as your mentor. Rengoku Kyojuro has not awakened since, and in contrast, since the nightmares the demon has placed upon you in that baleful encounter, you’ve not been able to sleep more than two to three hours every night. Every time, waking up in a sweat, the memory of what happened always the last image you remember.

“How is he today?”

You’re drawn from your thought by the gentle voice of the person you feel like you owe a life of debt to, and turn to gaze into the tired, worried eyes of Tanjiro Kamado. He stands by the bed now, glancing down at the Hashira. The slow rise and fall of his chest is the only sign that he is still alive.

You shake your head as Tanjiro takes a seat. “How is rehabilitation training going?”

Tanjiro smiles, still staring at the bed and its unresponsive occupant. “Almost done, I feel my strength returning to what it used to be and more. I admire how well you’ve upheld yourself, though,” he murmurs.

It’s true, for some reason, you’ve been the least scathed of them all, needing much less medical care than the rest. No, you know the reason why. “It’s because of him,” your words escape you. “If… if he hadn’t trained me as he did, if he hadn’t driven me so far beyond my limits, I don’t know if I would have survived for as long as I have in my role.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard. They say Lord Rengoku’s methods are… harsh to say the least.”

A smile tugs at your lips as a known pain pricks your heart. “But… but I’ve been remiss in thanking you, young Kamado—or rather, your sister. If she hadn’t…” Your throat tightens; you don’t want to break down, not here, not before Tanjiro and not before him, no matter he can’t hear it.

“Please, please don’t worry, it was a stroke of luck and quick thinking on her part, I only brought the box closer—”

“... she healed him! I saw the flames engulfing him, I saw the wound close. I don’t know how she did it but… Nezuko is someone... very special.”

Tanjiro lowers his head in humble acknowledgement. “I will tell her.” Then, as though remembering something, he reaches into his pocket and hands you a small bag. “Here, I’ve not seen you join meals very often and… well, please take them.”

You don’t have the strength to refuse, and take the bag from his hand, meeting his kind smile. “Candies…” You thank him before placing them on the bedstand, and after a few more moments of sitting in comfortable silence, Tanjiro takes his leave. You watch him depart, endeared by his manner and honesty. He has a good soul, a strong will—perhaps the strongest you’ve known, apart from…

You stare back at your mentor, memories of the past flooding behind your eyes.

Five months prior

“Good! Again!”

You’re panting, your total concentration breathing nearly failing as you evade another deadly arc of the Third Form: Blazing Universe.

The sun has westered and a bluish twilight sets over the lands, but your mentor still has you parrying his unwavering techniques, before making you attack using combinations of them in turn.

“Lord—lord Rengoku—”

His blazing speed cuts your words short as your blades clash, and you stare into bright, golden-rimmed irises. He’s smiling, as usual, with a devilish spark in his eyes. There is a sudden flutter in your stomach, overriding the fatigue in your burning muscles. “Come now, don’t tell me you’re beat! You’ve come so far after only three years!” he says as you fall back, lunging for another attack the following second.

The sudden weakness you feel when you’re close to him has you confused, because it was not there before. It all began in the past year: whenever he stares at you in a certain way, whenever he touches you during training or meets your eyes, something gnaws achingly at your chest. It’s as though you need something from him, but have no idea what it is.

“I knew it from the moment I took you on as a successor,” he says, merciless in his offensive. “If you—” Parry. Lunge. “—carry on like this—” Attack. Jump. “—you’ll reach a Hashira level of skill in no time at all!”

You don’t have the chance to reply, though his words feel like honey coating your senses. At first, he’d been sparse and strict, keeping to instructions and nothing else. But you struggled, worked harder than you had for anything in all your life, and it seems he acknowledges this fully now.

“Now—Ninth Form: Rengoku!”

That means you must attack, and he must deflect. But—Ninth Form?! “I—I can’t, I’m… I’m too exhausted for the Ninth!”

He bursts forward with Unknowing Fire, forcing you to duck and curl your body, rolling away into the dust, rising on one knee.

The Flame Hashira turns, pointing his weapon at you. “Is that what you plan on telling the demons?”

“Well, no, but—”

“At no point during a battle will you have the luxury of biding your time. If this were an actual encounter, you’d be dead.” He no longer smiles, his face turned cold, eyes glinting like molten steel.

You feel the rush of shame like fangs biting into you, fueling a horrible need to prove him wrong, to rise up to the challenge in his voice. With a hiss and a groan you grip the handle of your katana tightly, breathing and striving to light that spark in your heart.

With a cry you speed forward, clashing with him in a desperate lunge.

“Ha!” The smile returns as you grit your teeth. “Better!”

His face is so close to yours again, so close you feel the rush of his breath on your cheek.

Your knees feel weak again, and you close your eyes, pushing forward in an attempt to skew his balance.

What the hell is happening to you?

“Faster, the fire is still weak! It must rage!” the Hashira says, grinning like a madman now, and where once you enjoyed the path of learning and reaching your full potential, now his attitude brings forth an ache that confuses you and leaves you anxious.

Even so. Your blades sing against each other as you lunge back in a high jump, landing in a lowered stance with one palm braced against the earth. Your uniform is wet on your back, and you’re closer to your breaking point than you've ever been.

But the thought of disappointing him, now that feels unbearable. So you do what you always do: you push yourself more, more, harnessing all your strength into one melting core, bathing your heart in it and firing up your veins.

You attack.

He laughs outright. “Not bad, but—” Your swords clash, fiercer than before. “I know you can do better, and you can be faster.”

“I’m doing all I can!” you yell, at the end of your tether now. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. But he takes no offense, he never does, and that's one of the things you appreciate about him. “But you—you make it impossible! You always want more, even if you know I’m not ready for it!”

It must be the fire rushing through you that has you speaking this way, daring to say such words despite knowing full well what you were in for, when you accepted to become his successor.

“Wait until you’re ready, and you will never improve!” the Flame Hashira throws back.

A growl leaves your throat as you fall back then speed towards him again, trying the Second then the Third form in succession sloppily but you’re past caring.

Your arms feel as though they will tear and your bones might splinter as you crash against his unwavering stance, and you meet his scarlet-gold gaze as he speaks softly, his voice imbued with warmth: “You can surpass the impossible. I believe in you.”

Your eyes widen, that damned ache ringing through your body like a weakening poison and—

For one split second, your stance weakens, and you’re thrown back, losing your balance and falling heavily onto the ground.

Rengoku stares down at you, tilting his head to the side with a strange look on his face as he sheathes his katana.

Your vision sways, your lungs might burst. You barely clutch at the helping hand extended to you, aiding you to your feet. He grasps your shoulders. “What happened there just now? Your focus melted like wax.”

“I…” You can’t look him in the eye. His hands on you diffuse heat, permeating through your clothing. It feels good. It scares you. “I don’t… know.”

“Tomorrow, again,” he says, releasing you. “Please do better. Remember we’re doing this for you, but foremost for the people.”

“Understood,” you murmur, biting back tears as you watch him walk away.

Midnight has arrived when you end your reverie, thinking about that emotion that took root in your body and spirit, growing stronger as time passed. And you never dared tell him, never dared facing it nor can you explain why. You take a deep breath, leaned with your arms folded on the edge of the bed, your forehead resting on them. You never told him, and now…

And now with each day I’m losing hope.

Your shoulders are shaking, and your eyes sting. There is no one else here but you and him, the long chamber of empty beds the only witness to your breakdown.

You’re so absorbed by despair, you don’t perceive the faint movement, or the hand gently placed on your head.

“... Why are you crying?”

You choke on a silent sob, blinking in shock at the low, throaty voice, broken with disuse. Slowly, you raise your head.

He's staring at you, a bleak smile on his lips, and you're utterly, incomprehensibly frozen.

“You… you’re awake?” It feels like the dumbest of questions: your body knows the truth before your mind catches up.

“That… depends. Are you really here?” he asks in turn.

You nod, biting on your lower lip and wiping your eyes with your sleeve. “Yes, yes I am.”

The smile wavers for a moment as he grimaces in pain. “Oh, I see. Then… it seems… you’re not rid of me yet.”

All the gods in all the world couldn’t keep the emotions flooding you at bay, and you shake your head as warm tears flow down your face.

PART II

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kny #rengoku x reader #kny fanfic #x reader #ruiniel:fanfiction

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asimpwithfreetime · 1 year

Text

Mr. Steal your girl (Tsu’tey x fem!reader / Jake Sully x Neytiri)

Summary: Tsu’tey tries to make Jake mad by dating his mate (He doesn’t know that you are not Jake’s human mate but his sister)

This fic is way looooonger than I expected.

Kind of a fluffy one-shot

Warnings: none I could think of.

Let’s pretend that Tsu’tey didn’t die, okay?

Also, I wrote this at 6 am in the morning and I have to wake up at seven, this might be the longest sleep deprived rant I’ve done.

English is not my first language

[ Reader’s POV ]

Jake has been acting strange since he became an avatar user, he barely sleeps o eats. He is always with Dr. Grace talking about Na’vis and their culture. I’ve also heard him talk about a woman, Neytiri I think.

Sometimes I wish I could go have adventures with him, running around Pandora freely. Not being small enough to be eaten by almost EVERYTHING.

Once the war with the sky people, no longer our workmates, started, I chose to fight on the side of the Na’vis, even though, none of them knew me.

I got injured during the battle. My brother, in his avatar form, picked me up, biding goodbye to his mate and bringing me back to our base to let Norm patch me up. I almost didn’t notice the freezing cold gaze that fell upon me.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

So the demon with a fake body already had a mate with the sky people. She looks extremely weak. And he just PICKED HER UP in such a loving and caring way!? In front of Neytiri, as if nothing was wrong.

I walked towards Neytiri, but she didn’t seem upset. Okay, I’ll need to figure this out.

[ Few days after ]

[ Y/n’ POV ]

I was almost cured enough to go outside again. Even if I needed an oxygen mask to breath outside, it felt so freeing to see Pandora.

I didn’t want to wait any longer, so when Jake and Norm were distracted, I went out, into the forest. At first, I felt lost, but soon I found my way around it. Nature was beautiful here and we had stopped its destruction.

Stepping though the forest, I found a small lake and I walked up to it to see my reflexion. Standing closely to it I could see myself, but when I looked closely I could see the tree branches. In one of them there was a Na’vi, his bow was prepared to shoot me and he didn’t seem very happy.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I thought all humans were forced to leave the other day, except for some of Jakesully’s friends. I didn’t see any human women between them. I MUST kill her.

I followed her around the forest, I tried to be as silent as possible. She looked weak. Suddenly I remembered myself thinking the exact same thing. THIS IS JAKESULLY’S MATE. He didn’t show her to us because he wanted her all for himself while still having Neytiri. That bastard!

If I killed her, Jakesully would have to tell the truth right? Or maybe he would get so mad he would go back to his stupid dying planet.

I prepared my bow, pointing the arrow directly at her. She was so relaxed here, she wouldn’t expect this. But, she was looking into a lake, I couldn’t see it properly but I knew something was up when she tensed up. She turned around looking directly at me. For a split of a second I felt bad. I looked at her, her face soft and beautiful. Wait! Did I just though this human piece of meat was beautiful?

I tensed my bow a little bit more to scare her. She pulled her hands up in the air and said “Don’t kill me please!”. I thought about it. She was so weak she didn’t seem like a problem. But she was still Jakesully’s mate.

My mind raced, maybe Jake was being unfaithful to both of them and she wasn’t the one to fault. I brought my bow down and jumped from the tree. She was so small compared to me. From up close I could she her poor body shaking while she looked at me with a pleading look en her eyes.

When we were close enough I said, trying to sound strong even though my accent was not very good. “I am not going to kill you, sky demon”. She looked at me, still doubting it. I was about to tell her to go off to her base and never come back here, but an idea crossed my mind. What if I steal Jakesully’s mate?

Mine died, then her parents promised me Neytiri, I did like her, even though she wasn’t my real mate. Then Jakesully had to come and ruin it, once again sky people broke my chances of being happy. I almost died in the fight and lost all my privileges I would get for being the clan’s chief. I was degraded just for a sky demon in a Na’vi flesh disguise.

I waited for three and a half years, Jakesully did it in one week. I looked at her when my idea seemed perfect. If a human stole my Na’vi mate, a Na’vi will steal his human mate. Perfect.

Just as I was thinking that, a woodsprite fell onto her head. Was Eywa saying that I should do it? Was Ewya giving me back what’s fair?

I smiled mischievously. The woman looked terrified.

[ Y/n’s POV ]

He was smiling at me just right after he was aiming at me with a bow and arrow. “Are you okay?”

He seemed to snap out if his trance. He pulled his bow and arrow to his side, not shooting it. “Who are you? Why are you here? You weren’t with the scientists that would stay here” his words were accusing, but his accent was adorable, I couldn’t help but giggle to myself.

“I am Y/n. Y/n Sully” his face darkened at the saying of my surname.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I knew she was his mate. Humans give each other their supernames? Subnames? Sournames? Whatever!

I knew she had to be with him.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

For the next couple of days, Tsu’tey began the Na’vi courting with Y/n. Sometimes she blushed at his advances, something that made him really proud. But other times she was oblivious to them.

Once he was close enough he kissed her, copying how Jake kissed Neytiri. Just with a smaller figure. He had taken off her mask for a second, kissing her roughly. She was red as a tomato.

Tsu’tey should admit that he began doing that to annoy Jakesully and to steal his mate as a revenge. But now he did want to steal her.

[ A month later or so ]

Tsu’tey felt nervous, he didn’t know how the mating would go as they would need help of the Tsa’hìk. He went to look for Jake. “Jake I am going to mate your human mate” he said, in English.

“Tsu’tey, brother, I think you might have messed up the sentence” Jake thought that the Na’vi had said something wrong because of the language.

He repeated the same words, now in Na’vi and Jake was as dumbfounded as before.

“Y/n, I am talking about Y/n” Tsu’tey explained. Jake started laughing. “What’s so funny? I courted her better than you could every imagine” Tsu’tey felt that laugh as a taunt to his pride.

“Y/n isn’t my mate” Jake hollered between laughs. “But she has your sourname!” Tsu’tey said.

“She is my sister!” Jake began laughing again. Tsu’tey felt his face loosing color. He looked dumbfounded. He still loved Y/n but now he felt like a fool.

#avatar james cameron #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar tsu'tey #tsu’tey #tsu’tey x reader

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daisynik7 · 7 months

Text

Iris

And I don't want the world to see me, ‘cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Mature – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.5k (I went way over than I was supposed to, lol)

cw: switching POVs (2nd person reader, 3rd person Eren), canon-universe, VERY canon-divergent, consider this a what-if scenario, major AOT spoilers up to season 4, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), fingering

Summary: At the Battle of Fort Slava, Eren Jaeger, hell-bent on launching his ultimate attack on Marley, injures himself to pose as a wounded soldier, granting him admittance to the hospital to finalize his plans. You, an Eldian volunteer working at the hospital, start treating this new patient, nervous about his mysterious demeanor. Eventually, you learn that you have much more in common with each other than you think.

Author’s Note: Thank you @ichinosejager13 for your second request for the y2k karaoke party! I did something totally different this time; I wrote a fic set in the canon universe. I thought it fit well with this song, so I hope you like it! While it’s set in the canon universe, it is very obviously canon divergent, so please remember I took a lot of liberties with this. I am in no way suggesting that any of this is what I wish happened in canon. I just think it was an interesting idea to write. Also, I understand that this will seem very out-of-character for Eren, but let’s just roll with it because it's all in good fun, lol.

Like, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune.

Fort Slava, huddled in the trenches. Blade through his leg, bullet in his eye. This is the last vivid memory Eren can recall as he stands in line outside the hospital, waiting to be admitted. Some asshole Marleyan imitates explosion sounds, causing all of those around him to fall to the ground, cowering in fear. They suffer trauma from the battlefield, and even Eren, with a clear conscious now, is affected by it. A kid, another Eldian dawning the same yellow armband as he is, steps towards them, kneeling down to help them up. He even assists Eren, correcting his armband to his left arm instead of the right. Luckily, it goes unnoticed by everyone else, which is exactly what he wants.

It's all part of his plan; the attack on Marley. It’s been in the works for months now, starting with his infiltration of the army, fighting alongside Marleyans and Eldians alike. He thought he’d have better clarity of the situation, maybe get convinced to call the whole thing off after bonding with other solders through the tragedies of violence and war. Unfortunately, it’s only made him realize how much more he needs to follow through with it. Nothing will ever change in this cruel world unless he’s the one to do it.

There are days when he gets cold feet. He’s tempted to re-evaluate, find a way back to his home of Paradis, reunite with his friends, devise a better plan and figure it out together. But in all the futures Eren can see, his current plan is the only one that will work. The only one that will grant him the freedom he’s been chasing his entire life.

The process is slow to get a room in the hospital. Luck remains on Eren’s side when he’s assigned a private room. It’s barren; a single-bed, just long enough to accommodate his stature, withered sheets and rusted iron on the frame. There’s a small nightstand beside it with two drawers to hide his belongings, which is essentially nothing, and atop is a small lamp, illuminating the room in a dreary glow. It’s not luxurious, but it’s enough for the time-being. Because that’s all Eren needs right now: time.

Eventually, Zeke will find him. They’ve been contacting each other for a while now, and Eren has a firm grasp on what his older brother is trying to convince him to do with the Founder’s power. While he doesn’t agree with his idea to euthanize the entire race of Eldians, Eren needs to entertain it long enough to manipulate Zeke into letting him use his royal blood.

It's all convoluted and fucked up, he’s aware of that. Somedays, he wishes he could escape this curse without doing anything at all. That one day, he’d be gone from this world, liberated from his Titan power, saved from this burdened life. This isn’t what he imagined while reading all those books he and Armin would marvel at as kids. This isn’t the freedom he was hoping for.

He rests in his pathetic, yet oddly comforting bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. His leg and eye are still wrapped in bandages, so a nurse should be coming soon to check on him. There’s a faint commotion out in the hallway, but Eren is too lazy and too uninterested to investigate. Soon, it subsides, and the door swings open, revealing a women around his age, wearing a nurses uniform and the yellow Eldian patch on her left arm. He recognizes the attire from battle; the army had a few nurses stationed at the fort for casualties.

“Mr. Kruger?” she asks.

It takes him a second to remember the alias he decided to use. He confirms it, nodding his head silently.

She gives him a warm smile, introducing herself. “I’ll be helping you from now on.”

~~~

You started working at the hospital a few months ago. For Eldians, it’s nearly impossible to be accepted into higher education, so nursing school was never an option. With opportunities so scarce, your best bet was to apply for a volunteer position at the hospital in hopes of using that as a steppingstone for an actual paying job. You don’t expect a promotion any time soon, not even in the near future, but at least you’re spending your time helping others.

While it’s rewarding, it isn’t glamorous or pretty in the slightest bit. Because you lack the proper education, your tasks mostly include bathing, feeding, cleaning up any accidents or messes. Occasionally, if your patient is open to it, you spend time with them chatting, doing activities with them, listening to their stories. This is rare, though. Most that are admitted are Marleyans who refuse to speak to you because of your status. Some are even reluctant to have you help them in the first place. The Eldians, sadly, are usually too traumatized to open up, so you do your best to make them comfortable however you can.

When you meet your newest patient, Eren Kruger, you don’t expect him to be any different from the rest. You are, however, surprised at how young he is; he can’t be any older than you, judging by his appearance. His records show nothing except for his name and his status as an Eldian, which isn’t unusual, so you don’t think much of it. “Mr. Kruger, I know you must be hungry,” you start. “Lunch will be arriving soon. If you need assistance, I’ll be here to help you.”

He acknowledges you with another curt nod, remaining silent. You can’t help but notice how brilliantly green his eyes are. Have you ever seen irises like his before? You let the inappropriate thought vanish quickly before you ask, “Would you like me to bathe you now or after you eat?”

At this, his brows tighten. “Bathe?”

“Yes, Mr. Kruger. We can bathe you before or after lunch, it’s up to you – ”

“I don’t want to bathe,” he says, avoiding your gaze.

You blink at him, unsure how to respond. “Surely you must want to be clean – ”

He interrupts you again, muttering, “How can I, when I’m like this?”

You understand his hesitation now, not needing further explanation. Sometimes, patients with missing limbs have expressed concern submerging themselves in a tub full of water, not wanting to get their bandages wet. Quickly, you clarify, “It would be a sponge bath. We can do that while you’re lying in bed, actually. And your bandages will stay intact.”

This seems to be the answer he’s looking for. His expression relaxes when he says, “After. I want to do it after I eat.”

You smile softly at him, noting it on your checkboard. “Understand. I’ll go check on your meal now. Is there anything else you need from me?”

A beat passes before he replies, “Pen and paper. For letters.”

You write it, reminding yourself to bring it when you return with his meal. “Got it.”

A few minutes later, you return with a tray of food along with a wad of paper and two pens. You set it on his nightstand beside him, waiting for him to move it. When he doesn’t, staying still, staring blankly at the foot of the bed, you clear your throat. “Mr. Kruger?”

“I’m not hungry,” he murmurs.

“But you haven’t eaten all day. You need nourishment if you’re going to get any better.”

“And who says I want to get better?” He glares at you, startled by the intensity in his gaze.

You swallow hard, nervous, but still resilient. “You have to eat. You owe it to yourself after what you’ve been through.”

“And how would you know what I’ve been through?” His voice is steady, a hint of venom, barely enough to sting. But you’re determined. You sit at the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. Reaching for the tray, you set it down on your lap, sighing. “I don’t know. I have no idea what war is like out there. All I know is that it’s not great for us here. At least out there, you’re fighting together as a unit. Marleyan, Eldian, it doesn’t matter. You’re working to defeat our enemy. And who knows? If we ever win the war, maybe life will be better for us here.” You shove the tray towards him, glaring back at him. “So the least you could do is try to see it through and survive, right?”

He studies you carefully, contemplating how to respond. Glancing at the tray in front of him, he smirks, scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. You ease up, tension releasing from your shoulders.

After a few more bites, he speaks. “Who do you think the enemy is?”

Just when you thought you were in the clear, he asks you another question. “It was the Mid-East Allies. That’s who you fought at Fort Slava.”

“But who do you think the real enemy is?” He’s finished with his potatoes, now moving on to his meatloaf.

“Well, I suppose it’s whoever the government says it is.” You’re unsure what kind of answer he’s searching for.

“And if they say that we’re the enemy, then what?” He points between you, leaving you confused.

“We…?”

“Eldians. Devils.”

“No, no. The Devils are on the island. We’re…we’re not like them.”

“Are you sure?” He stuffs the rest of the meat into his mouth, chewing and swallowing it all down. “What makes you think you’re any better here than you are there?”

Your face feels hot now, and you start to stammer. “Because…because that’s what we were told. We’re on the right side. They’re on the wrong.”

His plate is nearly clean now. He slides his fingers on the remnants, licking it off before chugging half a glass of water. “What if I told you there’s a place for people like us? A place where you wouldn’t have to walk around with an armband. A place where you were treated fairly. Would you want to go to a place like that?”

You feel yourself drawn in by his words. The idea of it sounds impossible. Ever since you were born, you were taught to know your place in this world. That place was here in Marley, destined to be a second-class citizen. You were told that the island across the sea was full of devils like you, but because you’re here, you’re better. You can’t deny that you’ve been curious what life is like out there. All this time, you thought it must be worst, secluded on an island, hated by the rest of the world.

But is this life any better? Secluded in your own community and still hated by the rest of the world?

You pick the tray up from his lap, muttering, “I’ll go get your sponge bath ready.”

He doesn’t add anything else, watching you silently. You walk towards the door, ready to leave. Before you do, you say, “And to answer your question: I would.”

~~~

It was supposed to be innocent banter, that’s what Eren intended. He figured he could chalk it up to the trauma speaking for him, that she wouldn’t even be remotely interested in what he had to say. He thought she’d be like all the other naïve, brainwashed Eldians, ignorantly believing everything that was told to them. He realizes soon enough that he was wrong to underestimate her.

She comes to him every day, fulfilling her volunteer duties. Their daily routine begins with breakfast, then a morning stroll in his wheelchair out in the courtyard. Sometimes they’ll play chess at one of the tables, sometimes it’s checkers. Lunchtime comes, and then it’s time for a bath, one of Eren’s favorite parts of the day. Her hands are always gentle, gliding along his skin with a damp sponge. They’ll do another stroll outside, this time on his crutches, where he practices how to walk. Dinner arrives when it’s already dark out, and occasionally, he’ll ask her to read the latest news from the paper.

While all this happens, they talk. They talk a lot.

As expected, she figures out that Eren is from Paradis, though he bends the truth about his true intentions for being here. She doesn’t know about his Titan powers, thinking he’s a refugee seeking sanctuary here. Surprisingly, she isn’t offended about it; in fact, she’s curious. They spend most of their time together sharing stories of their childhood. Eren describes life in Paradis, she describes life in Marley. While there are stark differences between their upbringings, there are also blatant similarities. And together, they come to the gut-wrenching conclusion: Eldians are terrorized wherever they are, whether it’s here, or across the sea.

Eren has only sent one letter in the past two weeks, and that was to his friends back home, informing them that he is in Marley, safe and sound. He doesn’t disclose his plan to them yet. In all honestly, he’s not sure what the plan is anymore. Zeke still hasn’t found him, nor has Eren gone out of his way to be found. What Eren does know is that he enjoys spending time with the woman who helps him. So much that he’s losing grip on what he’s supposed to be doing here. He has to do something soon.

It comes to a head one night, three weeks after he was admitted to the hospital. Eren requests for another sponge bath after dinner; it was a hot day and he worked up a sweat during their afternoon walk. She helps him strip his shirt off, starting with the wet, warm sponge at his chest, massaging small circles onto his sticky skin. He watches her carefully, noticing her eyes lingering on his body more so than usual.

He speaks softly into her ear, leaning in close. “I have something to tell you.”

She continues above his waist, hands gently scrubbing, not bothering to look at him when she responds. “What is it, Eren?”

He’s thought about this all day. The plan. “Would you like to visit Paradis?”

This time, she does look at him, confused. “What?”

Louder now, and more confident, he says, “Come to Paradis with me. See what it’s like there.”

She scoffs. “I can’t just leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is my home.”

“They treat you like nothing here,” he argues. “At Paradis, you’re somebody. We can be safe at Paradis.”

She stops, tossing the sponge into the bucket of water beside her, frustrated. “Safe? After everything you’ve told me? You said it yourself; you’ve been terrorized by Titans since you were a kid. Every nation in the world wants Paradis gone. How can it be safe?”

He swallows thickly, gripping her hand delicately in his. “I can’t explain everything right now, but I have a plan. We have a plan.” He recalls one of the last memories he has of Armin, his brilliant friend, suggesting a small-scale Rumbling, enough to scare the rest of the world from attacking Paradis for centuries. He dismissed it quickly then, but now, he considers it. Could this be their best option? Instead of the billions of casualties Eren had originally devised? “You just have to trust me for now. Once we’re there, I can explain everything.”

She stares at him, clearly in shock from his suggestion. He doesn’t blame her. Eren is asking her to give up everything she knows.

“Eren,” she starts, squeezing his hand tighter. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

He smiles at her, brushing his thumb across her knuckles delicately. “I understand. I know it’s a big ask, and I shouldn’t have expected you to say yes. I just…I just think I know what I can do for Paradis to make it safe for people like us. Somewhere we can be ourselves, where people will know us for who we are, and not for what they see on our armbands.”

“It sounds like paradise,” she says quietly.

“It does. And I think I could make it that way. I know I can.”

She sighs, retrieving the sponge again. “I want to believe you, Eren. But I don’t think I can throw away my life for something I’m unsure of.” She starts to slide his pants off, ready to wash below his waist.

“Please, just consider it. I plan to leave soon, within the next few days. I just have to send out a letter tomorrow, and I should be ready to go.”

“You’re leaving? Already?”

“I know what I have to do now. I can’t waste any more time when we can end this war now.”

She peers at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I…”

“What is it?” He sits up, leaning in close to cup her cheek, brushing away her falling tears.

“Will we ever see each other again?” Her voice is trembling, lips quivering. His heart sinks into his stomach, seeing her like this.

He presses his forehead to hers. “I’ll find you when this is all over. I promise you. Whatever you do, don’t go anywhere near the shore, okay?” The small-scale Rumbling should only affect the fleets, which will be in the middle of the ocean, far from the shore. Still, he can’t risk anything happening to her. Not when he isn’t there to protect her.

She nods, not asking for any further explanation. He presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring us peace.”

~~~

Eren asks you to drop off a letter in the mailbox, addressed to someone named Azumabito. Apparently, she is an ally to Eldians who is stationed here in Marley, so she can arrange a ship for him to head back home.

There are still so many questions left unanswered, though you decide not to ask them. Maybe it’s foolish to trust someone you’ve only known for a month. But Eren has given you more truth about this harsh world that anyone else the entire time you’ve been here. And he’s the only one who’s ever promised you a better life.

Two days after you mailed the letters, you receive a response. It’s addressed to you, though you’re sure it’s meant for Eren. There’s a fancy insignia stamped to one corner of the envelope: a circle with a triangle in the center, formed by samurai swords. You keep it safe in your pocket as you head for the kitchen, ready to deliver Eren’s dinner.

He reads it when he’s finished with his meal. You watch as he scans the letter carefully, mouthing a few words under his breath. When he reaches the end, he looks up at you, a small grin on his face. “She’s arranged a ship for tomorrow morning, before sunrise.”

You gasp, surprised at how soon his departure is. “Tomorrow?”

He nods, folding the letter and tucking it beneath his pillow.

You let out a deep breath, unsure what else to say. Noticing your quiet demeanor, he reaches for your hand to hold it. “I know this is happening so fast. But I’ve never been more certain about what I need to do until now.” He interlocks his fingers with yours, smiling. “And you helped me with that.”

“Me? How?”

“By being you. By giving me a chance to explain myself. Even when you found out I was from Paradis, you didn’t judge me. You got to know me. It showed me that there are people, good people, on this side. That even in a ruthless place like this, there is beauty to be saved.”

You don’t say anything, throat too heavy with emotion to respond. Blinking away your tears, you take his tray from his lap, walking quickly to the door. Before you can leave, he asks, “Can you please come back to help me shave?”

Without turning to face him, you nod, exiting his room, stifling your sobs on your way down the hallway. Your heart yearns for more time with him. For the past few weeks, being here has been an escape from your painful reality. You’re not seen as an Eldian, you aren’t considered a second-class citizen. With him, you’re just you.

You know that you can’t keep him caged here forever. Like a bird, he’s ready to spread his wings. He’s ready to be free. While you’re heartbroken to see him leave, you’re thrilled for him to fulfill his destiny. All you can hope is that one day, you’ll be reunited in a better place than here.

You return to his room a couple of minutes later with everything you need to give him a close shave. His facial hair has grown out quite a bit since he arrived. You lather his face with a small amount of soap, scrubbing the suds off with a warm, wet towel. He closes his eyes, indulging in your relaxing touch. After mindful preparation, you begin to shave his goatee with a straight razor, pulling his skin taut, gliding the blade carefully across his chin, cleaning it after every stroke. When you’re done with his beard, you focus your attention on his mustache, delicately moving the razor until his skin is smooth and shaven. You smile as you wipe off any remaining residue with the towel.

With everything discarded into the bucket of water set on the nightstand, you take this time to admire his face, memorizing every detail. The flutter of his lashes, the bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his jawline, the plush of his lips. It’s only now that you realize how close to him you are. You’re kneeling beside him on the bed, noses almost touching, your fingers grazing his smooth skin. He opens his eyes to look at you, and his breath hitches at the intimacy, glancing at your mouth.

Before you can move, he closes the short distance, kissing you on the lips. As quickly as it happens, he pulls away, blushing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have asked first. I’m sorry – ”

You cut him off with another kiss, hungry for more. It’s his last day; in mere hours from now, he’ll be gone, and you’re not sure when you’ll see him again, if ever. It’s crossed your mind many times by now, how it would feel to be with him like this. The feeling of his lips on yours, the slide of his tongue in your mouth, the taste of his spit. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you’ve never thought about it. In fact, it’s been on your mind every night as you fall asleep, wishing you were in his arms instead of alone in your bed.

He doesn’t pull away this time, sinking in deeper, slipping inside your mouth to swirl his tongue with yours. He’s just as sweet as you fantasized he’d be, luscious and rich in your mouth. His skin is smooth against your fingertips, tracing his jawline. One hand slides around your waist, tugging you closer to him, the other wraps around the nape of your neck, holding your head steady. You swing one leg over him, straddling his lap, hoisting the hem of your dress past your hips, revealing your panties. He moans, shifting beneath you in the bed to slip his trousers down, displaying his erection bulging in his underwear.

“Is this okay?” he huffs, catching his breath. His voice wavers, his only visible eye half-lidded with arousal, unable to keep his cool.

“Yes,” you answer, grinding yourself on him, kissing him sloppily. His grip is on your hips, guiding you to rut against his cock faster. The friction between you is enough to make you wet, your slick soaking through the fabric.

“You’re an angel,” he whispers, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to make you feel good.” His thumb teases the elastic of your waistband, hand slipping inside to rub your clit against his fingers.

“Eren,” you moan, his sensual touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He slowly slides two digits inside you, massaging your bud with his palm while he pumps his fingers into your sopping cunt. His cock is stiff beneath you, watching you ride his hand, cursing under his breath until you reach your climax, coating him in your arousal.

You’re breathing heavily, in a daze from your orgasm. He removes his hand from you, slipping it past his underwear to jerk his cock. You reach for him, tugging his bottoms down his legs, replacing his fist with yours, stroking him eagerly. He whispers your name, bucking his hips in tandem with your movements. You’re aching for more, desperate to feel him inside you, feel him deeper. You position yourself correctly, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side to tease the head of his cock up and down your folds. He sits up on his elbows, watching you with a nervous expression on his face. “Are you sure?” he asks.

You nod, smiling at him. “I’m sure. I want to be close to you, Eren.”

He swears, letting his head fall back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. You sink down on him, his dick stretching you out smoothly, still sleek from your previous orgasm. He moans, craning his neck to take in the lewd sight before him. “Oh my god,” he groans, thrusting his hips into you.

You ride him slowly, his entire length filling you up to the brim. He plants his feet into the mattress to fuck you deeper, the metal frame creaking with every thrust. It doesn’t take long until you’re both coming together. He shoots his load inside you while you gush all over him, creating a wet mess between you that you couldn’t care less about in the euphoric state you’re in. You lift off him, rolling to his side, relaxing into the pillow with him beside you, cradling you in his arms. He gives you a smooch on the cheek, nuzzling his nose with yours. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“You really are an angel,” he says, smiling at you.

~~~

Eren wakes up alone, and he’s almost convinced that it was all a dream until he spots the small note scribbled on paper laying his nightstand.

It’s too hard to say goodbye, so I won’t. I trust you to keep your promise. We’ll see each other again soon.

With daybreak approaching, Eren leaves for the docks quickly with only the clothes on his back and letters in his pocket, including hers. With sunrise teasing the horizon, he makes it to the meeting place just in time. He recognizes Azumabito and greets her, explaining the situation as they board the ship. She informs him that they are waiting for several other passengers, so he makes himself comfortable by a window.

A few minutes pass and one of the crew approaches him. “Mr. Jaeger, there is a woman trying to board, claiming they are with you. Do you know anything about this?”

He glances out the window towards the docks and to his shock, he sees an angel with a suitcase in hand, talking to Azumabito. His heart races, overjoyed as he jumps out of his seat, sprinting out of the ship to meet her.

#eren smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan fanfiction #eren fanfiction #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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aphroditestempleimagines · 6 months

Text

That fool

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader - 18+

Words: 3943

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk reader, Geto is a teddy bear gojo is the mean one change my mind, sex (i promise geto is NOT a dick), fingering, bit of oral sex (fem!receiving), LOTS OF ANGST, name calling (princess) but just a bit

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. As you try to drown your sorrow, you bump into your old, now criminal, friend.

Colour: Hot, Forbidden and very angsty

His love series - part 1

Author's note: idk why i wrote this when i'm a gojo simp, i'm in class and i'm bored. Also I'm gonna attempt a mixed pov.

"Is that what you wanted to discuss with me?", the man asked.

"You must understand", Geto responded, "It is the only way to truly eradicate evil from this world"

"It is aggressive and extreme and I will not be a part of it"

The man stood up. The short glass of whiskey fell down as he bumped the table.

"You yourself stood up against the monkey who hurt your son", Geto maintained his calm composure despite the man's reaction to his proposition.

"That was...different", the man uttered behind his teeth.

Geto smiled at the guy's clenched fists. He picked himself up and threw his arm over the man's shoulder. "All I'm saying is", he said firmly, "We keep losing our people to protect a lesser species who is, not just not thankful, but oppressive and prejudiced against us". He leaned in, anger brimming from his eyes. "How is that fair?"

The man lowered his head. Geto raised his gaze for just a second, out of habit. His eyes fell on your figure, lone and ridden with sadness, as you sat at the bar at the other end of the room. His first instinct was to run away; he would have, if you had not raised your hand to order another drink, directly from the young bartender. He leaned back to his potential associate, giving him a warm smile.

"You don't have to decide right away", he told him, "As long as we both keep this meeting confidential you can think on your answer for however long you'd like"

The man's fingers had not stopped fidgeting until Geto gave that small reasurement. A smile of relief adorned his face, yet some stress still remained in his eyes as he nodded and stumbled out of the establishment.

Geto focused his sights on you; your reddened eyes, your slumped form, your unquenchable thirst for liquor. Normally, he would not dream of talking to you again, not after he left Jujutsu High. He had to put everything behind him to move on with his goal. And though he remembered that fateful day he ran away from the crudity of the sorcerers' world as one of the brightest in his life, the thought of your tears and the memory of Gojo's calls were a constant anguish to him even to this day. And there they were, those tears he had feared, even though unspilled they remained so evident behind your tired eyes.

He approached. His legs brought him to you faster than his mind could object. His heart thanked them for it, but still broke a little at the sight of your startled face.

"Fancy meeting you here princess", he pretended to smile. It was quite easy since a part of him rejoiced at the reunion, even though in such saddening circumstances.

"What...ar you doin 'ere?", you slurred your words. You had not realized how heavy your head was until you tried to lift it up. You clutched your forehead. Your heart tightened. The stool was falling backwards. Your hands reached for the counter but it was no use; you could not reach it anymore. Your back hit something hard but it was not the floor. Geto's hands were on your arms as your head rested on his kimono-clothed chest.

"I think you've had enough", he said.

"Let me go!", you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, forgetting for a second that he was the only pillar keeping you from falling. Fortunately, his hold was quite strong. He released you only after he restored the stool to its proper position.

Geto's gaze scanned the room; it was full of them monkeys. He often said there were two kinds of them: money-collecting monkeys and curse-collecting monkeys. But when faced with a lonely drunken soul there came a third kind, the most vile of them all.

"That's it", he said as the hungry gazes collected on your form, "I'm taking you home. Where do you live?"

"I'm not telling you where I live, Geto"

"Is it still at the apartment in Shinjuku?"

Your face turned red. You had gotten that house during the last year of school so it would be quicker to attend emergencies in Tokyo. He and everyone else had helped you move in and you had not moved out since then. "y...yes", you whispered.

Geto was quick to guide your hand around his waist, throwing his around your form. "Just grab on to me", he said plainly, almost in annoyance, "Tell me if you can't walk anymore".

"I can do this by myself", you objected.

"You don't have to", he said, his gaze focused on the darkness surrounding you.

You did not speak as you walked, nor did you speak as you boarded the train from Roppongi Station. He held you close as you walked through the crowded tunnels to change lines in Shinjuku. His outdated attire did not draw nearly as much attention as your hazed gaze and reddened cheeks. You covered your face with your hand and buried your nose in Geto's robes.

"We're almost there", his grip tightened reassuringly around you.

You finally reached your apartment building. Your hands fumbled around inside your purse until they gripped the keys. He helped you open the lock and soon you were in the safety and comfort of your home. Geto stood at the doorway, not moving a step in as you took out your shoes and fell onto the couch. Everything was exactly the same as it was back then. Apart from a few minor items that were replaced after the times wore them down, nothing else had changed. He had not been there since that year. That year that had been the worst of his life. He could still remember Haibara helping out to set up the table, just as he could recall your beautiful smile as you and Shoko chatted while hanging all of the paintings that decorated the walls. Both images made his heart ache. He had not felt any remorse about his decision in years, yet there he was, being pulled in two different directions like he was in those days. And all it took, was one visit.

"Why are you just standing there?", your voice disperced his thoughts. You were rubbing your eyes with your hand. "Just come in", you told him.

He almost did not. He almost ran away back to the temple he had sought refuge in. Perhaps he should have. You were safe now. The only danger to you was he himself. Yet his curiosity won him over. He took off his sandals and went to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water, and him a bottle of sake. He sat on the couch next to you as you gratefully gulped down the refreshment you craved. You left the glass on the table and fell back on the pillows of the couch. He was overcome with the temptation - no, the need - to caress your heavy head as your messy locks fell upon your face. It took all his restraint not to.

"I can't do this anymore", you said. He had not asked a question, but he guessed you were drunk enough to wallow in your own pity.

"Exorcising?", he asked.

"No", you responded, "I know you probably wanted a different answer but...it's what I know how to do. So I'll do it"

Those words poured blood in Geto's clenched fists. That was exactly what Haibara used to say. He knew Gojo was far too strong, and perhaps even far too selfish, to share the same fate as he. But you? You, Shoko, Nanami were among the people he wanted to protect from the foolishness of the life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

"I never thought I would want him to love me. I know he never will", you continued murmuring.

You did not have to explain. This was about Gojo. Ever since High School he knew the two of you were arranged by his clan to be married one day. Gojo took no interest in the idea back then. He thought himself far too young for it. But after all these years was he continuing the same immaturity?

He could not be mad at him. He would never truly be mad at Gojo. He often wondered if he was ever mad at him but the opposite was never going to be true. And yet your tears felt as if they were his own. Your broken heart crumbled onto his hands and he fully knew that if he was the one to hold it initially he would not had dared cause such damage.

"I know at the end of the day it does not matter", you said, "But...it feels like...he's fine by himself. I can never stand at his side and neither would he ever want me to. And I just feel so...alone"

Geto knew that feeling well. He poured himself another glass of sake and gobbled it down.

"No one would care if I disappeared"

"I would", Geto stated. The words slipped his mouth. He looked at you. You had lifted your gaze. It fell troubled onto his face. He cupped your cheek and leaned towards you. His thumb brushed away your tears. "I would", he said again with even more determination. If he could not take the words back he would make sure you understood them. He would make sure you never felt the way he did back then.

You grabbed his kimono and pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and desperate but at the same time everything you needed. He hesitated to put his hand on your waist, but he was already reciprocating the kiss. He felt your tears wet his calloused hand and he knew he was nothing more than a replacement. He did not know what you were to him exactly, what you were definitely seared onto his heart. And as he devoured your cherry lips he got even more drunk on the nectar of your kiss; he would have never guessed he could have such an alternative to the curses he forced himself to swallow.

"You're not thinking straight", he breathed against your face as you climbed on top of him.

"I know", you responded, "I simply don't care"

He held you close and kissed you again. His hands traveled up and down your form. The last notes of your perfume enveloped him. He thought of your smile, one of the few things that gave him true joy during his dark days. You both loved Satoru but Satoru was determined to prove he was better off alone. Would he hurt him if he slept with you? A part of him wanted to, wanted to get revenge for staying true to the jujutsu world, for making you cry, for everything. And a part of him could not. But he could not push you away either. He could not be the cause of more tears. He could not be the reason you did not find your smile again. And most of all, he could not cool down the feverish heat that overwhelmed him as your body pressed against his.

"Suguru...", you murmured above his lips.

That was it. He could not take it anymore. He flipped your bodies so that your back hit the couch cushions. He nibbled your neck as his hand hiked up your black dress until it was scrunched over your hips. His thumb pressed on your bud over your panties and traced small rough circles. He tried to pull the neckline of your dress down but he just could not stretch it down enough. In a swift move, he reached for the hem around your waist, pulled the dress over your head and threw it on the floor.

Your body trembled at the sudden chill. You reached for his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, your hands undoing his long black hair. His locks fell on the sides like a curtain.

He was kissing your chest. His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and glided over your clit. Your hands got tangled in his hair as he pressed one of them past your lower lips.

"Always the idiot", Geto murmured as he kissed you between your breasts, "He'll never change".

Your body trembled as he dexterously thrusted his digits inside you. Your hands blindly searched for the tie of his belt. Geto used his free hand to pull open his robes until he could shake them off his shoulders and let them hang from his waist. You traced the faded scar on his firm chest. He placed his hand over yours and brought your palm to his lips for a gentle kiss. He kept your hand close to his cheek, relishing its touch with closed eyes.

"Don't ever say things like that about yourself again", he said firmly, "You're the best our world has to offer"

A few tears escaped your eyes. Geto noticed and kissed them away before adding a peck on the bridge of your nose. He moved his fingers more meticulously as you climbed in ecstasy. Your heaving breath exploded against his face, his eyes blazingly observing your heated expression. The spring of the coil was being twisted more and more by the minute. He gave you a quick kiss, hiked your leg over his bare shoulder and pressed his mouth against your clit. You moaned his name out loud before you came on his fingers. A subtle smile formed on your lips, pure and simple. Suguru could relish that smile for all eternity.

He climbed back up until he towered over your body. Your arms wrapped around his torso as he kissed you deeply. You were so beautiful; even more than he could remember.

"Suguru", your name left his lips again.

"I never realised how much I missed hearing you say my name"

Your hands reached for his belt again. "I want you"

"Not as much as I do", he aided you in undoing it. He threw his robes next to your dress. He gave you small kisses as his dressed length pressed on your entrance. "Tell me if it hurts".

You fisted his hair as he entered you. You did not stop him until he had bottomed out. He continued kissing you reassuringly, one hand massaging your tailbone, the other holding your leg around his hips. He was kissing your neck now, waiting for you to catch your breath.

"Don't be nice to me", you told him, "I don't want you to be nice to me"

He laughed. "Yes, you do", he lightly nipped at your collarbone, "And you always get what you want"

Soon the room was filled with your sounds of pleasure as Suguru's hips met yours in a passionate dance, tuned to an intoxicated melody. His cheeks had grown hot; yours had too.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed. There was a battle going on in his mind. He had loved a lot of people. He kept a list in his mind of those he wanted to protect, those he wanted for sure to be in his new world. You, Gojo, Nanami, Shoko...He loved all of them equally; or almost. You and Gojo were always a little higher on the ranks. But this? This was a new you he was seeing for the very first time and he was intoxicated. All the have-nots and could have been in his head were suddenly turning into a plausible reality. If only he could keep you with him. If only he could have you by his side, every day he woke up. He had chosen to leave so he would not burden any of his friends with the cruelty of his mission, but the prospect of the happiness he would gain by just gazing upon your face every day was too tempting to pass.

Yet there was another thought trying to force its way into his mind. 'If I could become Satoru Gojo for a moment, the dream would be achievable'. He was hurting him by being with you. He had taken one of the many things bestowed upon that man that he ungratefully scorned. And as much as it pained him to cause Gojo anguish, a part of him thought of it as well-deserved for his foolishness. Maybe he would finally mature and appreciate everything he had been given.

"Suguru!", your moan pulled him back into reality.

He held your sweated cheek. "Come for me, princess", he said and lowered his voice and lips close to your ear, "If you want to use your legs tomorrow that is"

Your hands gripped his hair again. Your walls clenched around his length. He grunted as he felt them squeeze him. "Two can play this game, princess", his hand rubbed fiercely on your bud.

Your breathing turned irregular. Your vision turned hazy. All there was was him and nothing else. Your thoughts were overcome with the knot in your stomach, threatening to break any minute.

Your head fell back as you came with a loud moan of his name. He followed soon after. You could feel his tired breath explode on the skin of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder. You brushed his hair with your fingers. He planted soft kisses under your hairline. He sat up for a moment to put on his boxers, burning the condom into nothingness with a spell. He pulled your tired body against his as he lay on the couch, his arms wrapping around you.

"Y/n", he called your name softly.

"Hm?", your ear was pressed on his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

He cupped your cheek to guide your gaze to him. He wore a genuine smile for the first time in years as he caressed your face. You could not help but return it. He planted a kiss on your forehead, his hand diving under your locks.

"No one deserves your tears", his low voice whispered next to your ear, "But if you have to spill them, let them be mine"

He picked up his robe and threw it over your bodies like a blanket as you drifted off to sleep.

*****************************************************************************

When morning came, Geto woke up alone. Y/n's warmth still lingered over his body as he blindly searched for her with his sleepy eyes. His ears finally focused on the sound of running water. He smiled. They had not taken a shower last night so it was only logical she would do it first thing in the morning. He sat up on the couch, pulling his robe properly around his body. His gaze ran around the small apartment. Memories of your life were carefully placed all over the walls, the counters, the tables. He walked up to a dresser at the back of the room, probably storing all the linen needed in the living room-dining room fusion. Two photographs were placed on it; one with your class and Nanami's class, happily drinking together at Shoko's birthday party. The other one was with you and Gojo; smiles much subtler as you posed for an engagement picture.

Gojo's glasses were different than the ones Geto remembered. It must have been a more recent picture. He smiled as he admired your beautiful face, all dolled up for the photo. Then his eyes fell on Satoru again. His face turned serious. He missed him, that was sure. But he had grown accustomed to hating him, knowing he was probably hated back. He had grown accustomed to blaming him, knowing he was being blamed back.

He looked more carefully at his glasses. He could just see the shiny blue of his eyes underneath. His own eyes opened wide. Gojo's gaze was on you. The smile he wore was not fake at all; Geto would have recognized it. It was clear as day he had feelings for you. Yet you were not lying about your broken heart either. His eyes watered. He had thought he would be happy hurting Gojo's pride, but his heart was too much. He left the picture on the dresser and walked to your bedroom. He knocked on the door. Your voice called him in. One look at you and he lost all the words he wanted to say. He wanted to stay with you. But doing that would hurt Gojo. And if he chose to leave and spare Gojo from further pain, he would strike your heart at a moment when it was already bleeding.

"Last night", you drew his attention, "It was a mistake"

Those words were a knife through his chest. You kept your back turned on him as you lazily dried your hair with a towel.

"I wasn't thinking straight"

"You said you didn't care"

"I was wrong", you told him.

Suguru walked towards you. "You were not. I...I missed you"

"Don't lie to me. You just wanted to get back at Gojo for once", you spat. You cursed your lips the moment the words left your mouth. Suguru remained silent. "You won't even deny it?", you asked, "Geto"

"Suguru", he corrected. You sat there in silece for a moment. "Y/n", he finally spoke, "Look at me"

You shook your head.

"Please", he said again, "Look at me"

You slowly turned to face him. He had known he had guessed it right. The tears were back to flowing from your eyes, and this time he was the cause. He had made the wrong choice. All he had wanted was to bring you to smile.

"What brought this on?", he asked calmly.

His face was as it had been in your school days; calm, composed...kind. You could not help but answer him, even though it would be an unpleasant thing to do so. You reached for the small radio next to your bed and turned it back on to the station you had been listening to. You waited for a while before the newsman returned after the break and continued with more details on the newest strange mass attack on humans that took place in Tokyo the night before.

"That was your friends, right?", you said, your lips trembling even though you knew the answer.

"Yes", he said, "There was a cult forming with knowledge of our kind. I had to eliminate them"

"Do you hear yourself?", you cried as you shot up on your feet, "What did these people even do?"

"It's not what they did, it's what they most likely would have done"

"Get out", you spat. Your voice cracked as you repeated those words again and again.

Suguru did not move. "I will", he said, "But I want you to know, I've never said a single lie to you. And I never will"

You were covering your face with your hands as you cried and so you neither heard nor saw him approach. You startled as he placed a soft kiss on your head.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, "It was never my intention to cause you pain".

"That hardly matters"

"I know", he said. "I know", he repeated it one more time as he touched his forehead to yours.

He turned to leave but stopped right before your door. "If you see Satoru", he said, "Slap him for me. Then kiss him for you".

"What?"

"He's so immature, you need to slap him back to his senses. Or he'll be too late again"

And with that, Suguru returned to the shadows of Tokyo, far away from the light he had found in the small apartment with you.

#geto suguru #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jjk angst #geto #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut

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leeehye · 10 months

Text

🫧˗ˏˋmy shy boy´ˎ˗ 🫧

[ summary ☁️] Seonghwa’s rejection to Y/n might turn out unexpected after time. But why did he reject her in the first place?

[ pairing ] nerd!seonghwa x prettygirl!reader /best friends to lovers

[ warnings ⚠️] none full fluff really. Just kissing- nothing happens, not fully proofread sorry

[ a/n 🍒] I’m sorry I’m taking long with the series, this is just a short drabble to make up 🌷

Y/n’s POV

I was finishing getting ready to go out with my best friend, Park Seonghwa, or as my other friends may know him, my long-time crush. Yet I have always lived a life of rejecting the truth ever since that day.

While putting in my earrings he came to my mind, and not like my best friend it made me remember that day, it was finals back in high school and I had invited him over to study for the math final.

We were sitting down on the floor in the living room each of us working and then tutoring each other like always and goofing around once in a while.

Until I caught myself admiring Seonghwa working on his iPad and then transferring information to his notes. His black hair, looked so soft and touchable, his big black eyes were focused on his work and his pretty lips gently parted as he mumbled what he wrote to himself.

I small smile formed on my face, before looking back at my laptop. I had developed a crush on Seonghwa probably since freshman year in high school and it was growing worse (bigger). We were in Senior year now, about to graduate and head to college and I was gathering the courage to tell him my feelings.

Though I had to admit it was scary, he was a really focused guy and he didn’t really talk about girls with me nor I have never seen him interested in love. As I was drowned in my thoughts his gentle voice let out a soft “oops” making me look. He had dropped his eraser and I smiled slowly reaching for it, and he did as well. Our fingertips gently touched.

We have held hands before, shared hugs or kiss each other’s heads but to me all of those little things mean more to me. But I am sure to him he just sees it as something normal. Like right now, the feeling of his warm fingers on my hand gave me soft butterflies on my belly.

Should I tell him right now? Gathering the courage I cleared my throat giving him his eraser before scooting closer to him our knees touching and I glanced at what he was looking at.

“um…Hwa?” I whispered to him, he hummed as he finished writing something before looking at me. I gulped softly swallowing the knot in my throat.

“have you ever…liked someone?” my question made his face turn into a confused one as his eyes moved to somewhere in the house as he seemed to think about it.

“oh…I had never actually thought about it Y/n…but I don’t think so…I think I’m just really focused on studying…I think I’m a weird nerd” he said laughing softly making me laugh with him shaking my head.

“no I don’t think so Hwa! Actually um…I think you’re really…cute” I finished my sentence quietly as he slowly stopped writing a formula in his notebook, but he didn’t look at me for a few seconds.

I was dying inside, wanting to take back everything but it was too late. I had told him what I thought of him but in a more honest tone. Which he quickly caught realizing I wasn’t joking, like we do.

His head slowly turns as his eyes meets mine. My body was hot, I couldn’t read him, his expression wasn’t good nor bad and I didn’t know what to expect.

Future me might regret it later but I slowly took the pencil off his hand and slowly his eyes watched my movements carefully and my hand slowly rested on his.

My eyes kept looking at him and taking the chance that his head was turned away, I leaned in a placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened and his hand gently flinched under mine.

He looked at me, moving his hand away as his mouth gently opened and closed trying to find the words. I somehow got the feeling that he didn’t feel that same. Letting me know this was a one-sided love.

“Y/n…what—” Seonghwa stutter as his hand slowly touched the spot that I kissed. My shoulders slowly dropped looking down.

“Y/n I don’t…I didn’t expect this” he finished saying as my heart slowly broke, I looked at him quickly moving away.

“I’m…I’m really sorry…you’re right…um…I think we’re ready for the final on Wednesday…” I whispered trying to calm down and change the subject. Trying to forget what had happened.

“I’m tired…You should get home before it gets dark” I said picking up my books and notebooks getting up leaving to my room, and then a cried all night, from embarrassment, pain and for probably ruining my friendship with Seonghwa.

After that incident, at school Seonghwa told me to forget about what had happened and to act like it never happened and from then our friendship continued but I was mire reserved while working on moving on from him.

I came back to reality when my mom knocked on the door, I quickly grabbed my bag and opened the door.“Sweetie, Seonghwa is here. I think he hust parked” my mom said as I walked out

After she said that the doorbell rang, and we both smiled. “Yup that’s him mom” I said giggling and we headed down. I got the door and opened it seeing Seonghwa smiling as soon as he saw me.

“Hi…” I said sweetly as he returned the greeting before my mom appeared behind me.

“Oh good evening Mrs. Kim” he said to my mom giving her a smile showing his pretty teeth. My mom giggled and sneakily elbowed me.

“Just to let you guys know, don’t rush on getting back, just don’t be to noisy just in case—” my mom started making my eyes go wide.

“mom!” I quickly said stopping her from finishing as my cheeks turned red. Seonghwa was wearing his focused faced with what my mom was saying, which he probably understood. Before smiling when I stopped my mom.

After saying goodnight to my mom I got out of the house closing the door behind me. I awkwardly smiled at Seonghwa.

“sorry for my mom…um where are we going?” I said softly while we walked to his car as he opened the door for me.

“I was thinking we could go to the park, and maybe do some stargazing and just walk around and grab some snacks on the way” he suggested and I smiled nodding happily.

To some people it may seem boring, mostly for this society but I loved how we both were old fashioned, mostly me. The way he was simple in his ideas made me like him more, but we were just friends. Yet I couldn’t stop seeing him as the guy that would write you letters, have a cute lego building night, a reading date. He was perfect for that.

We had finally reached the park and started walking to out usual stargazing spot. I smiled noticing he was carrying a fluffy blanket.

“What? You didn’t think I was going to let you sit on the grass right? It’s really itchy after” he said making me laugh at his comment.

“thank you Hwa…” I quietly said earning a smile from him. While reaching our spot I noticed an old lady with an ice cream stand.

“Ooh Hwa, can we get ice cream?” I asked grabbing him by his sleeve pulling him over hearing him giggle. Reaching the ice cream stand I looked inside before picking chocolate for me and strawberry for Seonghwa.

“How you know?” Seonghwa asked as I looked at him. “Hm…I just do…That’s how good I know you” I responded playfully winking at him before looking at the nice ild lady getting some cash from my pocket but Seonghwa held my hand.

Bringing back the feeling of his soft hand on mine I stayed quiet watching him pay instead and I gently grabbed my ice cream and he took his, he still had my hand in his.

Not wanting to be reminded of that day I took my hand away from his and giggled.

“Can I try your ice cream?” I asked him sweetly and he just smiled allowing me to ad he got his ice cream come to me, as I softly tried his ice cream and that’s when he gently pushed it towards me getting it on my lips and some on my nose making me squeal.

“Hwa!!” I whined giggling licking the ice cream off my lips pouting trying to get myself cleaned while he was laughing. After a fee laughs he took out some napkins and came close to me cleaning my nose. He was close I could smell the strawberries 🍓 in his breath.

God, Y/n you need to contain yourself like you’ve been doing all along. He had a smile on his lips while cleaning me, his movements slowed down, and I see his eyes darken. His glance from my nose went to my eyes, and slowly to my lips.

I did want to get ahead of myself and took the napkin from him. “Thank you Hwa! Come on the evening is beautiful!” I said changing the subject going to our usual spot under a cherry blossom tree, it was so pretty. It wasn’t windy but it was just perfect and some of them were flying off.

Seonghwa laid the blanket down and we took a seat finishing our ice cream. I admired the evening as time went on and the sky started to tint itself with pink and orange.

“it looks so pretty, don’t you think?” I asked “Hwa—” I asked turning my head to him already staring at me as he jumped quickly shaking his head waking up from whatever thoughts he was having.

“Yeah, yes it’s…really pretty…” Seonghwa responded with his soft stuttering voice. I showed him a smile and gently hit his arm

“Um…Y/n? Did you ever…felt bad or…were you ever embarrassed of me? For being the quiet…nerd?” Seonghwa asked me making me look at him in shock.

“Of course not Hwa! What kind of question is that?!” I exclaimed gently touching his arm and he gently gave me a closed smile.

“I was just curious, since a girl like you back in…high school…it would have been strange…since you were the pretty girl…you know?” Seonghwa was talking nervously and started to make no sense but it only made me giggle.

“So does that mean? Wait…back then, god I wish I could turn back time” he whispered making me confused, I slowly tilted my head feeling his hand on top of mine. I looked down at it, we were now in opposite roles from back then.

He came close and my heart started raising, his strawberry breath reached my senses and the butterflies from high school were felt again. His big eyes were on mine before moving down, to my lips.

I opened my mouth to try and word something but I couldn’t, not because I couldn’t find the words but because before I could talk he crashed his lips on mine.

I was frozen, he was kissing me for the first time, and not on the cheek like I did, on the lips, they were so soft. The way he softly moved them, making me kiss him back after a few seconds. Our lips worked in sync sharing a sweet and soft kiss.

His hand slowly rearranged itself and intertwined our fingers together before moving his other hand to the back of my head, making us drop down slowly laying me on the blanket.

I had waited for this for so long I couldn’t let it go to waist. Still kissing him we separated a few millimeters to catch our breath before continuing and that’s when I gently licked his lower lip, I felt his reaction to my sudden movement making me blush.

We slowly pull away followed with a soft wet sound, and we just looked at each other with smiles on our faces and I slowly touched his shirt gently fixing his hoodie.

“W-why until now?” I whispered to him gently kissing his chin making him smile shyly.

“Because I was a coward Y/n I think that’s the only explanation there is…” he started as he looked down before tuning him glance back at me.

“I was scared? Of what others might think, imagine the quiet nerd dating the prettiest and sweetest girl, the class president? I just…I think you were to much for me Y/n” he whispered softly pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“and you don’t know how much I regret not responding to you that day…everyday I thought about it…and well…I hope I’m not to late” Seonghwa whispered to me making me give him a sad smile.

He was getting out of his comfort zone and expressing his feelings for me, of course it wasn’t too late, my love for him was still there and he was new to all this, I couldn’t blame him. He was so cute!

“Of course it’s not too late Hwa…yes I was sad that day but our friendship was way more important but now that…I know how you feel I’m so happy” I said gently cupping his face as his cheeks tinted red and looked down shyly.

“Do you…want to…give me a chance? I promise to show you all my love, because I’ve always wanted to be more than friends with you” Seonghwa whispered while admiring my eyes making me blush as I have him a gentle nod.

“Yes Hwa I will give you a chance, but you better not hurt me like that day” I said playfully kissing his cheek as he shook his head wanting to forget about that day before pecking my lips but I pulled him down into a more passionate kiss.

After sharing a passionate kiss he was laying down with one arm behind his head and the other arm around me as we watched the stars. I couldn’t ask for more, I loved my shy boy so much.

IM IN LOVE WITH PARK SEONGHWA 🤎 and this just made me love him more this is so cuteee!

I’m sorry for taking long on a dare after all and sweet truth I have been busy and I couldn’t really get into it fully! I posted this to update you guys with something ☕

Any interaction is really appreciated. 💕

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #seonghwa imagines #ateez x reader #park seonghwa #park seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #ateezedit #ateez reactions

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bloodynereid · 4 months

Text

Tinsel, Gold and Dragons

(modern au!)

pairings: rhaenyra targaryen x fem! reader, past rhaenyra x alicent

tw: kissing, alicent bashing, alcohol consumption, talk about hooking up, hatred of the holiday season??

description: You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

a/n: hiii hope you enjoy this little fic i randomly wrote last night. i've been kind of missing just writing stuff that isn't requests so hopefully this is still ok haha. ALSO i'm 100% an alicent defender, she's the loml so just remember that a lot of this is from rhaenyra's pov and not my own thoughts about her character. anyways hope you enjoy this and happy holidays <3 (might write a part 2 at some point but who knows?)

Rhaenyra Targaryen never liked the holiday season. After her mother died things just got worse and the boring parties she was always subjected to only got more boring. The welcome reprieve of baking gingerbread in the kitchen with her mom was gone in seconds and now holidays just reminded her of everything she had lost.

This year’s party was going to be the worst one by a long shot. Rhaenyra had to deal with Alicent fucking Hightower - oh sorry Targaryen now… that was something she still hadn’t accepted. I mean how do you even cope when your best friend suddenly starts fucking your dad in secret, gets pregnant, marries him and then proceeds to act like she’s Virgin fucking Mary?

The answer is with a lot of scotch, stupid hookups and long hours studying. She was desperate to get her law degree so she could finally do something and it also meant she could start working at her uncle’s law firm.

Currently though she was stuck in her father’s house whilst her new toddler half-brother threw temper tantrums and broke anything in his vicinity.

It was Christmas Eve and Viserys had nearly decided to cancel the annual Christmas party, in favor of “family bonding” but Alicent had somehow convinced him to keep it on. Rhaenyra did not want to think about what she had done to convince him. She nearly gagged at the mere idea of it.

Smoothing out the material of the dark red dress with a slightly higher slit than what would be considered appropriate, Rhaenyra let out an audible sound of satisfaction. She looked fucking hot. Plus Alicent would freak when she saw it, perfect.

Once upon a time Alicent Hightower had been her best friend, and probably something more but now… all that Rhaenyra could muster up for her is a cold chill of utter hate and rage.

Rhaenyra was thrown out of her thoughts when her phone called out the familiar ringtone that belonged to her uncle.

“Daemon… you do know that people can text now don’t you?”

“Haha, you can call me old all you want but you might regret it when I don’t tell you how I’m about to save you tonight.”

“Please tell me you found a way to make them all die fiery deaths.”

“Nothing as dramatic as that but I assure you it’s still the perfect escape.”

“Are you going to leave me in suspense while I endure this torture or…”

“Fine, you spoiled princess. We’re having a little party at the firm and since you’re coming to work here soon…”

“You didn’t.”

“But I did.”

“Fuck off. You mean I can actually leave this party.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“You’re my savior.”

“Knight in shining armor and all that. Just remember to get me a good present this year.”

“When do I ever disappoint you?”

“There is also another surprise waiting for you when you get here.”

“Daemon… what have you done?”

“Nothing. There’s just someone I think you should meet.”

“Oh God, maybe I won’t go.”

“You know you’re too desperate not to, plus she’s your age so you won’t have to deal with boring old men like me.”

“She’s a she?”

Rhaenyra perked up, she hadn’t had a date in a while and ever since Alicent she hadn’t even tried to step her foot back into that pool. A string of meaningless hookups with men had done nothing to quell the heartbreak side of the whole situation. This would probably be good for her.

“Yes. So I guess that means you’re coming?”

“Obviously.”

“Should I send a car over?”

“Don’t bother, I’ll just drive Syrax.” Syrax was a birthday present from Daemon, a beautiful and subtly gold car that drove like a dream.

“Ok, see you soon Nyra.”

“Bye, Uncle.”

Rhaenyra sped through the streets of King’s Landing in the comfortable leather seat of her car. The bright Christmas lights that adorned the shops made a bright smile appear on her face. She may hate the holidays but at least the lights and food were incredible.

She arrived at the tall building that held Caraxes, Daemon’s law firm and named after his first dog but no one needed to know that. She gave her name to the security guard before parking the car in one of the empty spaces.

Her red dress fluttered in the cold breeze as she waited for the elevator to open. The firm was located on the 60th floor, the penthouse. Rhaenyra always loved being up high so the height was never a problem. What was annoying was how long it took her to actually get up there.

When the elevator doors finally opened at the correct floor, loud Christmas music echoed through the floor and she could clearly hear cheers coming from the area close to Daemon’s office.

Since the secretary was nowhere to be seen, Rhaenyra walked the now familiar route towards her uncle’s office. Weaving through a variety of cubicles she found a large Christmas tree and a small bar had been set up outside her uncle’s office.

“NYRA!” A loud voice that corresponded to her uncle slurred out and his tall frame ambled towards her. Within moments she was suddenly caught in a warm embrace and she returned the hug with her smaller arms wrapping around his torso.

“When did you have time to get this drunk, uncle?” Rhaenyra asked when they finally parted.

“Oh you think this is drunk, darling. Don’t you remember me at that New Year’s-”

“Andddd I’m going to stop you right there. I still get trauma flashbacks.”

“I must say, you look absolutely stunning Nyra. I’m sure our dear Alicent flipped when she saw you.”

“You should have seen her face when I told her I was going to unfortunately not attend her party.” Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a laugh before Daemon spotted someone in the crowd and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Y/N! I have someone you should meet.”

Rhaenyra followed Daemon’s line of sight and found the most beautiful woman she had probably ever seen. You were wearing a dark blue floor length dress which was held up with spaghetti straps. A pashmina scarf looped around your elbows and you had a smile on your face as you approached the two of them.

“You summoned me?” You asked when you finished weaving through the sea of people.

“Well yes, I wanted you to meet my niece. Rhaenyra this is Y/N, our newest and most promising associate.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” You said as you offered a hand to the stunning silver haired woman. You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

“I-uh, nice to meet you too.” Rhaenyra stuttered out as she took Y/N’s hand and shook it.

“Well I’ll leave you two to it.” Daemon said with a conspiring tone in his voice before he disappeared into the crowd.

“So… Daemon’s been singing your merits all over the office for a while now so I think I have an unfair advantage here.”

“Oh God, what has he been saying?” Rhaenyra groaned out as she dramatically swept a hand over her hair.

“Nothing bad, I promise. You’re getting your law degree at The Citadel, right?”

“Yup.”

“How’s that? I was debating going there for a while but ended up going to Oxford instead.”

“It's hell but worth it, I hope.”

“I totally get that, Oxford was like medieval torture but I’m happy it landed me in this place.” You said as you swept a hand in the direction of the office space.

“Wait, how old are you?” Rhaenyra suddenly asked before her face contorted in embarrassment. “Shit, that was rude, sorry.”

“Ha don’t worry, I get that all the time. I’m 25.”

“24.” Rhaenyra offered back in solidarity.

“We’re basically the same age then.” You said with a wink before you took a sip of the amber liquid in the glass tumbler.

“Probably why Daemon shoved us in this little corner together.”

“I’m for one glad to be stuck in this little corner with you.” You said as you smirked in Rhaenyra’s direction. A light blush started to dust Rhaenyra’s cheeks.

“I’m glad too, but I’m desperate for a drink. This week has been hell.”

“You don’t like the holidays either?”

“Hate them.”

“We have something else in common after all.”

You spent the rest of the party sitting next to Rhaenyra in Daemon’s office. You drank sparingly, not wanting to be drunk since Rhaenyra needed to drive back and you didn’t want to act like a fool in front of her.

Rhaenyra felt like this was the first time in years that she felt truly happy. It was nice just to talk and gossip and be free to actually be herself. With Alicent it felt like she was walking on eggshells before the incident and now it was near impossible to be in the same room alone with her. But with Y/N…

At first, Rhaenyra went into this wanting just to have a quick hookup but those hours spent talking or maybe it was the alcohol that got to her head but she decided she deserved something better. She deserved someone better.

“Do you need a ride home?” Rhaenyra asked when people started to mill out of the party. Y/N turned to her in surprise before a gentle smile lit up her face.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble?”

“Not at all, but don’t think this is some kind of selfless act - maybe I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Well, we just have to indulge in your selfish desires don’t we?” You said with a twinkle in your eyes and a laugh on your tongue.

“You have no idea the scope of my selfish desires.”

“I would like to find out…”

Rhaenyra basically dragged you down to her car after that little remark. As she drove through the streets of King’s Landing, you took a leap of blind faith (or maybe love) by gripping the hand that lay between the two of you. Rhaenyra instantly threaded her fingers through yours and you spied a small smile making its way to her face.

Once she pulled up in front of your apartment building Rhaenyra bit her lip and turned to look at you - still completely in awe of how pretty you are.

“We arrived.”

“That we did.”

“Well…”

“Well… do you uh-”

“Do I what?” Rhaenyra said as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Rhae… I- do you want to come up?”

“Only if we can have a date tomorrow.”

“It’s Christmas Day.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Hmm… deal.” You said as a giddy smile graced your lips. Suddenly the feeling of soft lips meeting against yours startled you out of your reverie and you jumped to thread your fingers through her silky hair.

“You are so beautiful.” Rhaenyra mumbled against your lips before slipping her tongue to delicately stroke yours. It seemed impossible that your smile could widen even more but it did.

“Mmm, says you. You fucking goddess.” You said when you both finally pulled away. Panting and grinning like idiots.

“This is certainly turning out to be a very merry Christmas.”

“Ho ho ho.”

rhaenyra is an bisexual icon just like her uncle and we love her for it !!

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra is a bisexual icon.#rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x fem!reader #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones #hotd x reader #hotd modern au #modern au #house of the dragon x reader #got #syrax #caraxes #viserys targaryen

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seeingivy · 8 months

Text

the sound of the applause

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: pain pre cursor.

an: songs mentioned - london boy by taylor swift, golden hour by jvke, girlfriend by avril lavigne. anyways. this chapter tame af. we are starting our demonic era. and no, you are not getting an eren pov until I say so. and I have covid so I am feeling extra evil and already writing the next one.

previous part linked here

You’re twelve years old the first time that you feel it.

You have hippies to thank for the entire ordeal. In your small, small town in Canada, there’s very little tension or importance on the arts. Singing, dancing, acting - like many places around the world - fall short to the highs and lows that come with sports.

Your middle school is no exception. A school that can barely spare money to fund a dying arts department, that begrudgingly offers one generalized art class that covers the basics of painting. Except when the hippy dippy parents in town petition, file a complaint with the mayor, they’re sequestered to include arts in all sectors that sports are included in.

A law that opens doors insanely. And creates the opportunity that exposes you to it. The singer showcase at the football pep rally.

And if you have to, you guess you have to thank food poisoning as well. Because Paulina, the original girl who was supposed to sing, was missing from first period that morning and you were all too quick to offer to take her spot.

They give you that pitchy, old black microphone and let you sing your heart out to one of your favorite old songs, At Last by Etta James. And when you open your eyes, the recollection of the performance is wiped from your mind seconds after you finish, and there’s only one thing you remember. It rings so hard, the sound so loud in your eardrums that it’s all you feel. The rush of the blood, the eyes staring back at you, and your cheeks burning.

When you think back, long and hard, that’s the first time it happens. The first time you feel it. It sits with you, that resounding pressure, that digs on you to give in. The need, the want, the infatuation with the rush you’re feeling.

And the obsession with the sound of the applause.

“Y/N. Wake up.”

You aggressively push your forehead into the plush of your pillow, creating a nice symphony of groaning songs in response to Danny, who is interrupting your beauty sleep.

“How long has it been?” you murmur into the pillow, the stinging in your head and the fatigue sitting in your body telling you it couldn’t have even been an hour.

“An hour. But I just realized, the bridge didn’t come out right when I was mixing so you have to record it again.”

“Can you come back in like three years? When I have the energy?” you groan.

“Y/N. I’ll see you in five down there.” he definitively states, shuffling out of your room.

Against every fiber of your being, you pull yourself out of the bed and drag yourself down to the studio, making it a point to glare at him as you re-record the bridge of the song you wrote yesterday. You give it a few tries, messing with the octaves and inflections, until you get a shining thumbs up, and wrap yourself into the blanket left on the couch.

“You write anything new?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You hold out your green book to Danny, opening it to the page marked, at which your producer is already wrinkling his nose. He hasn’t even read the lyrics yet, but you’re sure the title - Cry - is already setting him off.

“You didn’t even read it yet.” you respond, frowning.

“I don’t have to read it to know it’s brilliant. But you were there in that meeting last week and you know this isn’t what we can push out.” he responds, turning back to his soundboard, half-pulling his headphones back onto his ear.

“Danny. I-I just haven’t been able to write songs like that lately. This is what’s coming out.”

After nearly a year of writing music and touring, Danny and Sareen have leaned heavily into your Lover Girl branding. An affectionate term used by your fans, but now the entirety of the breadth that you work with. You’re widely known for the lovey dovey, sweet songs you write so when anything that falls outside of that mold, it isn’t stuff Danny and Sareen appreciate.

But you haven’t been able to write any of that lately. Which only makes that resoundling, crackling, heavy pressure in your head worse. Like you’re defective.

He turns around in his swivel chair, taking the little bound book you’re holding out for him, as he starts flipping through the pages. The worn down book you were gifted on your birthday years ago is filled with every mess of lyrics you’ve written, though none of them are meeting the game plan that was set weeks ago.

That announcement sent everyone on your team into a frenzy, which was so far from your initial reaction.

First of all, it was a rumor. That you were one leg away from being a triple threat. Second, if it’s true, you’re ecstatic. Enthralled and honored and every feeling in between. That you were even in the consideration for being a triple threat, let alone a few feet away from it.

No one else on your team saw it that way. Your producer, Danny, saw this as a sign that you need to be making more music and faster. The songs you make take you weeks to write at this point, no thanks to the perfectionism that comes with writing the lyrics and working out the sound. He’s set a goal for you - to write one song everyday. It makes it - that impending doom in your head - ten pounds heavier.

Your manager, Sareen, is no better. She only took this as a sign that you need to start being more vigilant. A hard-assed woman in her forties, Sareen is all about work ethic. That staying determined is the only way that you will get through this. And she’s extremely blunt when she tells you so.

Stars don’t take breaks. If you want it that badly, you have to work harder. There’s six thousand things working against you, take it as a note that you need to be running faster. That you aren’t trying hard enough. Those are equivalent to dumbbells for that rock on your head, that you’re sure is responsible for pinching all your nerves.

And it’s a matter of proving yourself. To Sareen, Danny, Eren, and everyone who watches you.

You appreciate the push. It’s extremely draining, but worth it when your song releases are so anticipated that you’re selling millions of copies before the song comes out. Have sold out stadium tours, and are shortlisted for awards nearly every time you do something.

You wake up. Get ready for the show. Memorize lines in between shows, film when you don’t have shows. Write songs on flights, produce through voice memos since you’re hardly in one place at a time.

And when you think about it all, finally being a triple threat, finally getting to hear Eren say that he told you so like you said that first night on set together, it’ll all be worth it. It’ll be over.

You can stop running. You can stroll, swim, make the music you like. So you oblige. This is part of the process, you just have to push through. There’s an end goal in sight. And being near Eren is a part of it.

“Have you ever thought about writing a song about…Ricky James?” Danny asks, swinging around in his chair as he smiles at you.

You wrinkle your nose as you throw the closest thing, an empty CD case, at Danny as he laughs back.

“Ew, Danny. That’s so not a thing.”

Ricky James, an infinite, insurmountable amount of talent, was your co-star on your last movie, Little Women. A British singer-songwriter, who virtually blew up over night.

He was nice - definitely the charismatic, flirty type of co-star. You’re positive half of it is the accent. After the two of you started doing press for Little Women, everyone was swooning over the two of you together. At how you guys had a handshake, did your famous kiss scene in one take, and how in almost every interview, he made it a point to joke that he was in love with you.

You get it. It works well for the press, gets people talking about the movie. But you could never like a guy like Ricky James. Or anyone who wasn’t Eren, for that matter.

“I know it’s not a thing. You’re all goo goo ga ga over loverboy. But it’s the same thing that we did for Little Women. He used the fact that people like to speculate to his advantage. It wouldn’t hurt to do the same.” Danny responds, shrugging.

“I already do use that to my advantage. It’s no secret that I earned my whole Lover Girl branding from writing love songs about Eren.”

“Yeah, but you know how it’s been for Eren lately. Maybe it’s not the best thing that your name is attached to him anymore? For both of you?” Danny states.

Eren’s had a rough go of it lately. After Satellite Port failed and the joke they made at the awards show last year, he’s all but resigned into what you call hiding. He said that he’s just busy, focusing on landing new roles and getting more credits under his belt. You know that he recently signed a deal with Scott Clarkson to film five movies with his studio, which is promising.

But you know Eren too well. He’s retreating, hiding in all senses of the word. From you too. The texts he used to send you - good luck before every show, a good morning even though you were on different sides of the world - have ceased all together. And the few seconds you do catch him, he seems worlds away.

And it’s not just you who has caught onto it. The last time you saw Historia, when she came to watch your show, she mentioned that she was concerned about him, that she thinks he’s being a little bit self destructive by working with Stone Studios. That Scott Clarkson is not a good idea.

Granted, Scott Clarkson is buddy buddy with John. You know that’s a touchy subject for her and made it a point to bring it up to Eren. To see if he was okay. But you were flying out for a tour and forgot to. And then he started showing up in the press again, hanging out with the cast he’s been working with, so you figured it was fine. That he’s going out again, smiling in photos.

“That-that’s not true. He’s on the come up - he’s going to be the lead in the Gatsby remake that Stone Studios is doing. I’m sure he’ll get an award for it.”

“There’s no need to get defensive. I’m just saying it doesn’t hurt to expand your horizons. Triple threats are awarded for being versatile, not sticking with what’s easy. Maybe you just need to push the boundary of what you think you can do.” he says, giving your forehead a tap.

“It kind of feels like cheating to write a song about someone that’s not him.” you murmur, looking down at the pages in your hand. Eren’s handwriting is scribbled onto the invisible string page. Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.

“You know, Sareen’s not too keen about this relationship. And I know that Eren’s team isn’t either.” Danny states.

“Who are they to tell us who we can date?”

“It’s not about who you can date. It-it’s about the image. Tying your name to his doesn’t exactly always work in your favor, Y/N. There’s no loyalty in an industry like this. And for Eren’s case, you’ve never really helped him in that sense. When you stand together, with the success you’ve had, all they see is a failure in Eren, when he’s really not even that bad.”

“People’s comparisons aren’t my fault. And Eren’s doing fine, he-he’s okay.”

“Now, he is. But a few months ago, it was your name next to his that was dragging him down. If it comes down to triple threats and it’s between you and him, are you telling me that you would really pick him over you?”

Yes. One thousand times, yes. Though you know that’s not the answer Danny wants.

“You have to be more selfish, Y/N. And maybe that’s selfless for Eren's sake too. There isn’t room for the both of you, right now. I know you love him, but Sareen has a point. Is working this hard worth it if you don’t get what you want out of it? You and Eren have all the time in the world to be together, just focus on your career before him.”

You frown, staring at the wrinkles pressed up against his forehead.

“You can have what you want - have your cake and eat it too, write all these corny love songs about him after you make it. Stop running when you’re actually there, kid.”

You look down at the pages, the thoughts floating through your mind, as the lyrics start spilling out. For your first song that’s not about Eren.

London Boy.

You try to make a point to call Eren before releases. Key word, try.

But it doesn’t happen that way. Because Eren’s in Los Angeles and you’re in Tokyo and the time difference messes the two of you up so bad that when they surprise drop London Boy, you don’t get to warn Eren beforehand.

And when he texts you about it, you can feel the guilt creeping into your chest. Because you know he’s too nice to say what he actually thinks about it. If it were you, you’d wring Eren’s neck out for writing a song like this about his co-star he’s rumored to be dating. But Eren is Eren and he would never.

eren: “he likes my american smile?” babe, you’re canadian.

eren: i like the song. really.

you: i have dual citizenship.

you: eren. i’m so so sorry. i meant to tell you before but the time differences, we just kept missing each other. you know i don’t mean any of it, right?

you: it’s just a marketing thing danny and sareen planned. the song will be a hit if people are speculating who it’s about and stuff.

eren: i figured. you don’t have to explain yourself to me!!!!

eren: you’re a pop princess <3

eren: and currently number one on the billboard hot 100 for the fourth time in a row!!!

You nearly throw your phone across the room at the notifications, the frustration building so hard that it’s all pouring out of your head. You can see the stack of gifts at the front of the room - candies from Falco and Colt, as well as Marco, Historia, and Reiner - for the release.

And it’s moments like this, when you’ve been running so fast and pushing so hard, that you resort to one of your worst tendencies. Because the only thing that helps you when you feel like this is being a masochist. Feeling bad only makes you want to feel worse. Like you deserve it.

So you inflict it on yourself. By reading what people say about you online.

You reach back for your phone - ignoring the messages from Armin, Bertholdt, and Levi - as you scroll to Twitter, hiding the light of the phone under your sheets as you look through the app.

You look at the trending tab. Y/N L/N, London Boy, Ricky James, Eren Jaeger, and love is dead are trending.

You press your bolded name and swipe to the recents tab, scrolling through every tweet, each one categorizing, sticking in your mind as you scroll. A mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly.

That you’re pretty. That you’re ugly. That you have no personality, that you write mediocre songs, that you’re the best actress from Attack on Titan. That you’re lucky for bagging Ricky James and Eren, that you’re too good for Eren, that you’re horrible for writing the song.

You place the phone flat on the sheets, the absence of light making your eyes sting, as the tears string out of your eyes.

You want to make your cake and eat it too.

But is it even worth it if this is how you have to get there?

You stick your hand out, swinging it in the air with Ricky as you do your handshake, and plop onto the couch. Danny and Sareen called a meeting with Ricky’s team before you guys went to the wrap party for The Proposal, which is the only thing on your calendar that you were actually looking forward to this month.

Because Annie and Armin are the leads and because you know Levi and Hange are going to be there.

“This is Michael and Nancy. They’re my talent managers.” Ricky states, pointing out the two people across from you.

“Sareen and Danny. Sareen’s my manager and Danny’s my producer.”

“Is he behind the genius of London Boy?” Ricky asks, smirking at you.

“Shut up. London Boy isn’t about you, Ricky.”

“Oh, shut up. I know I’m your muse.”

The line sits in your stomach wrong, because all you can think about is Eren. Seventeen year old Eren, shimmering green eyes on that empty set when you wrote New Year’s Day. You shake your head as Danny turns to the two of you, a smile on his face.

“We have an idea.” Danny states, a smile on his face.

You and Ricky nod as Nancy and Sareen start laying out the plan, each consecutive word twisting horribly in your stomach.

Surely they can’t be serious.

“We think that the two of you should date, as a PR move.” Sareen states, handing over a folder to you.

There’s dates listed out, public places where they want you and Ricky to meet at, and songs they want you to release about each other. All down to the slated releases, ideas for album covers, and interviews they want you to do.

“This is part of Y/N’s triple threat campaign. I think putting in this whole ruse of a relationship and writing songs about it, especially if there’s some part of it that will be drama because of Eren and Lana, it’s even better.”

“Lana?” you ask.

“She’s Ricky’s old girlfriend. They aren’t dating anymore, which is something that we should capitalize on. For the both of you. This should get Ricky into the leagues for the Album of the Year award when he releases next year.” Nancy states, flipping through the pages.

You look over at Ricky, ready to fully shut down the idea. But when you turn your head to him, he’s flipping through the pages, writing down his own ideas in the folder.

“Ricky. You’re not actually considering this, are you?” you whisper.

“You aren’t?”

“I’m dating Eren. No, I’m not considering fake dating you for the press.”

“Eren, who was seen on a date with Myka yesterday? Right.” he states bluntly, flipping through the pages.

“That’s just tabloids, Ricky. Be serious.”

“And so is this. Myka and Eren are in a movie together. You and I are musicians. You can do the same thing as him and I bet you he wouldn’t even care. And he shouldn’t, because your career comes first.” Ricky states, leaning forward on his knees to discuss more with Danny and Sareen.

You flip through the folder again, each consecutive page filled with more and more details of how they want you and Ricky to pretend. And the last page has the words bolded, little stars around them.

Y/N gets triple threat status! Ricky gets Album of the Year!

“Y/N. Have your cake and eat it too.” Danny warns, a reminder of what you’re supposed to be prioritizing.

“This is the time to run, Y/N. You’re almost there.” Sareen affirms, the two of them nodding as they look at you.

And by the way five of them are staring at you, big eyes filled with anticipation as they wait for your response, you know you can’t say no. That insurmountable pressure - to please, to be successful, to be the best - wins out, every time.

Danny’s produced for three different hit pop stars. Sareen’s managed some of the biggest names in the industry. And you have no idea who Nancy and Michael even are, but if they’re working with Ricky, they’ve got to be in the big leagues.

You put the folder down, giving all of them a nod, as they all erupt into cheers. Ricky leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek, which you tell him to save for the cameras, as you take the folder and walk out.

And figure out how you’re going to tell Eren.

You head to the wrap party three hours later and any excitement you had about the event is immediately drained when you know that Eren’s going to be there and you have to talk to him about it. Break up with him.

“Y/N!”

You turn around to find Armin and Annie, the two of them wrapping their arms around you as they press kisses to your cheeks. You try to stifle the literal tears that are making their way to your eyes at the sight of them, their blue eyes the same soft ones you’ve always known.

“Annie. Armin. I’m so excited for the movie, I’m sure it’s going to be great.” you say, squeezing both of their hands.

Two of your shyest friends still, they’re both blushing at the praise as Connie and Sasha walk up. You’re wrapping your arms around all of them, as everyone else - Reiner, Mikasa, and Jean - join you.

“So Y/N. London Boy, huh?” Connie asks, smirking.

“Did you guys know that Eren is from London?” Sasha says, sarcastically.

“Oh, quit it. It’s just one of those PR things. The triple threat thing made them all go crazy.” you respond.

“We respect the hustle, Y/N.” Connie states, mock saluting you with Jean.

“There is no press better than you and Eren releasing Medicine and Dress on the same day.” Mikasa states, earning a bunch of laughter from the group.

“Oh god. Don’t remind me. Whore move, from the both of you.” Reiner says, pinching your cheek. Connie mocks the ah ah ah, from Dress, which has you all laughing.

You smack his hand off as Marco slings his hand around your shoulders, squeezing hard and smiling at you so big, in earnest, that it makes your chest hurt.

“Can you believe it? You’re so close to it, Y/N - I can feel it.” Marco says, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your cheek.

You reach up to squish the plush of his cheek as Marco mimics your movements, the two of you smiling at each other. And then you feel two warm hands on your shoulder and turn around to see Eren, soft green eyes looking into yours.

And it makes you burst into tears. Soft green eyes, albeit a little tired looking, and Eren’s hair all grown out. When did Eren grow his hair out to his Season Three length? The last time you saw him, it was so short. He looks the same. He feels far away. And that pressure in your head is resounding.

“Yeesh.” Connie says at the sight of your spilling tears, earning quiet laughs from everyone.

Eren brings his hand up to your cheek, swiping the wetness away, as he glares at Connie.

“Connie.” Eren warns, the tone in his voice threatening.

“Sorry. Just missed him, that’s all.” you respond, wiping the last of the wetness off your face as they all smile at you.

“Man, every time I see one of you, you’re crying.” Hange says from behind you, the group of you turning your heads and immediately tackling them and Levi into hugs. Eren reaches for Hange first and you go for Levi, his stupid minty smell making your tears return.

You look up at Levi, who's glaring at you, and can’t help but smile.

“Levi. You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me.”

“I am happy to see you. But not when you’re crying in public. You two are going to give me an ulcer.” he states, frowning as he glares at Eren at your side.

You look over at Eren, the end of what Hange said catching up with you.

“You cried in front of them? About what, Eren?” you ask, voice soft.

“Ah. Nothing.” Eren responds, cheeks lightly pink as he runs his hand through his hair.

You both let go of Hange and Levi as Armin and Annie take to the makeshift stage, giving a little speech about their time on the film and how grateful they are for everyone in the room for supporting them. And as they do, Eren jabs his elbow into your side.

“Ow. What gives?” you whisper.

Eren places hand on his chest, feigning shock.

“Don’t tell me you forgot our secret hand signals already?” he whispers.

Jab in the side. Meaning, you need a second to talk, away from everyone.

“As if.” you respond, giving a nod to his sign.

He gives you a smile as you both turn your heads back to Annie and Armin, who are playing the trailer on the screen now. And when they finish, the resounding noise of the claps are the last thing you and Eren hear when you go out to the balcony, the cold air surrounding you both.

You wrap your hands around your arms, which Eren picks up on too fast and suddenly he’s taking his coat off and wrapping it around you. Making a point to pull your hair out of the collar, hands focused on fixing your hair around your face.

“Eren.”

“Yes?”

“I-”

The words die on your tongue. Because here he is, the perfect green eyes you fell in love with staring at you in the lamplight of the dark, and you can’t say it. You can’t shatter his heart into pieces or be the one to let him go.

When he’s one of the only things you’ve wanted.

“I know how you feel, Y/N. You don’t have to say it.” he whispers, hands tucking your hair behind your ears before letting go.

You can feel the tears spilling out of your eyes as you frown at him, the look on his face so pained that it hurts.

“I’m guessing they don’t want you to see me, at least not for right now?” Eren asks.

You nod, aggressively wiping away the wetness on your cheeks as you reach for his hands, squeezing three times. You hate that he knows. That Danny and Sareen think he isn’t good enough for you. When you’ve always been the one who was never in the same league as him.

That Eren was the one who defended you when you were there, but no one’s letting you do it for him.

“I still love you, Eren. You-you know that?”

“I know that.” he whispers, nodding. His eyes are focused on your hands, interlocked with his. He reaches in for your bicep, fingers tracing over the fish tattoo right above your elbow.

“Fishbowl, Y/N. We’ll come back to each other when it’s time. Just don’t be a stranger.” he says.

You nod, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around him as you nearly sob into his chest, his voice soothing your hiccuping, even though you’re the one who just smashed him into pieces. And when Eren wraps his hands around your cheeks, giving you one last lingering kiss, before walking away, you can’t help but sit there in the cold, his jacket wrapped around you and letting the tears bite on your skin.

You close your phone, giving Ricky a glowing smile, as you both settle into your seats at the Institute Music Awards. The two of you officially went public earlier today, though you’re both still denying any rumors that you’re dating.

“How does Ricky compare to Eren?”

You try to hide your scoff as you answer, trying your best to stay neutral in your response to avoid becoming a headline the next day.

“I’ll always have so much love for Eren. We grew up together and really came into this hand in hand and no one could ever really take that away. And there’s no bad blood between us, we’ll always be best friends.” you respond, giving them a polite smile as you walk away and swallow hard.

You can see Eren twenty feet down, in a specially designed suit that he looks wonderful in, smiling for the cameras. He’s standing in between Hyla and Myka, since their film is premiering in a few days.

“You look green, doll.”

You turn around to find Sukuna, who you fake punch in the shoulder and glare at, before pulling him in for a hug.

“You sure you’re not talking about yourself? That’s your girl down there.”

“Jesus, Y/N. Don’t ever associate me with her again.” Sukuna mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Oh? Was it not you saying she wasn’t that bad when we were kids?” you tease, poking into the soft of his cheek.

“Well, that was before I found everything out. I’d say a prayer for your boy over there, he’s about to get himself into a gnarly mess he won’t be able to get out of.” Sukuna responds, eyes focused on Eren and Hyla posing together a few feet down.

“What do you mean?” you ask, linking your arm with his as the two of you walk down, past him. You make it a point to attempt to make eye contact with Eren, but he’s too focused on Hyla that he misses you all together.

“I just mean…he’s about to get himself involved in things he shouldn’t. And you should stay far away.” Sukuna states, giving Ricky a polite smile as he joins you at your side. Sukuna gives you one last kiss on the cheek before Ricky links his arm with yours, dragging you to your seats.

You both settle into the seats, giving Marco a big smile as he sits next to you.

“Hey. Where’s Hisu? I saw her name card here earlier but it’s not here anymore.” you whisper, as the lights start dimming ahead.

Marco winces, giving you an awkward smile as he puts his hand over yours and squeezes.

“She doesn’t want to sit with Ricky. Or you.”

“Oh.”

“Just for today, Y/N. Because of the history and all that, you-you know that.”

You shake your head, ignoring the stinging, as you give Marco a half-hearted smile, nodding.

“No yeah. I get it. I’ll talk to her soon.”

“Okay.” Marco responds, giving you a smile.

You make it a point to do your best throughout the awards show, fake whispering in Ricky’s ears every time the camera is on you two, holding hands and comparing hand sizes, letting him tuck your hair behind your ear once and a while.

And it’s all going great and peachy, until Hyla gets called on stage to perform. You crane your neck back to find Sukuna, giving him a warning glance as he rolls his eyes, making the motion that he’s choking himself.

One of the most insane things about Hyla and Sukuna’s beef? The fact that they perform and write songs about each other, that are so insanely written, that they trend for weeks.

You’re sure Hyla and Sukuna are what Danny and Sareen dream about in their free time.

Hyla gets on stage, giving everyone a soft smile as a few of the girls join her on stage, adjusting their microphones. You can feel Ricky squeezing your hand hard, his jaw clenched.

“You good?”

“The lineup. Hyla, Myka, and Lana.” he responds, glaring at the three of them.

You focus your eyes on the third girl, Lana, who is Ricky’s ex-girlfriend. The only reason he wants to fake date you. Apparently, the two of them broke up after you and Ricky started trending, her insecurities about the people’s words overruling any reassurance that Ricky could give her.

“This is my new song, it’s called Girlfriend. I hope you all like it.” Hyla says, giving a smile as the upbeat music starts.

Hey, hey, you, you I don’t like your girlfriend No way, no way I think you need a new one Hey, hey, you, you I could be your girlfriend

You lean back as you observe the visuals and the line of backup dancers supporting the three of them singing, their performance extremely upbeat and punk pop star that you can’t help but tap your feet to the beat of the song.

That’s until they reach the bridge. When Hyla pulls one of the back-up dancers from the background to the front and Lana pulls Eren on stage, the two of them are seated on the makeshift chairs on the stage. Hyla’s singing around Eren, rolling her eyes at the back-up dancer.

Who's wearing the exact outfit that you wear on your tour, a sparkly, billowing pink dress. And when you take her in properly, you realize that she’s supposed to be you. The same hairstyle, eye color, skin tone. You can feel your throat dry as you watch Eren’s cheeks tinted pink on stage as Hyla sings around him, the entire audience erupting into cheers.

(Oh) In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger 'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinkin'?

You feel Marco’s hand on yours, squeezing hard, as you focus in on the performance, trying to ignore the fact that the big, black camera is shining on your face and that everyone in the room is looking at you. And that millions of people must be talking about it at home. You turn back to give Levi a look and he shakes his head, mouthing don’t cry which you halfheartedly nod in response too.

Jean and Armin have switched seats with the two girls behind you, their hands on your shoulders, squeezing, as Eren and Hyla walk off stage, hand in hand past the back up dancer who’s supposed to be you - who's crying fake buckets of tears now.

And when it’s all done and over, you skip the afterparties and let Mikasa drive you home. She tucks you into your sheets, making it a point to help you wipe all your makeup off and leave a bottle of water by your bed, you sink into your sheets and do it again. Let that overwhelming, embarrassing, deep rooted hatred sink in.

And pull up Twitter. Read about how everyone hates you. Relive the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you yet. Stare at pictures of Eren and Hyla and ignore the resounding sound of the applause the two of them received.

next part linked here

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