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zwhoreo · 8 months

Note

what would happen if Luffy ans reader have a Big argument ?

ty for the request!! :) this is my angstiest one yet ooo (but I could never have a non-happy ending)

careless scars - luffy x gn!reader

angst (fluffy ending)

summary: luffy recklessly abandons you in a dangerous situation to find and save zoro, and you get injured. your feelings are hurt and your heart is broken, and your ensuing fight with luffy leaves you not speaking for days. until, of course, you find each other again for comfort

contains: distressing emotional situations, reader hits luffy, everyone is sad, but happy/comforting ending <3

words: 2.4k

________________________

The dungeon is dark and Luffy holds you. Only his precarious torch guides you through the midnight catacombs, knee-deep in dark water, you’re terrified and shaking and Luffy’s hand on your waist is the only thing you have right now. He’s tight-lipped and facing straight ahead, you’re wordless, you hope you aren’t lost.

Evading the monsters of the dungeon has taken a lot out of you, mentally and physically, as you and the crew have battled for escape and now it feels like hours since you’ve all been separated, terrified and in a ceaseless search for light. Luffy wouldn’t leave your side, partly because you’ve clung to him this whole time, you had lost your cutlass and twisted your ankle, your shirt is torn, you’re very vulnerable and you need him. You’re not proud of it, usually you’re reliable and independent, usually you’re someone Luffy can count on to do well on your own, even in the worst of times, but today isn’t like that. He can tell by how your nails dig into his shoulders.

Every corner turn feels agonizingly slow, your organs tightening with each knot of anticipation, there can only be death or light or more darkness and the three possibilities war within you with every step. Dust falls from the dungeon ceiling. Stone creaks, how far are you below the sky? Not knowing when you’ll find the exit, or when you’ll find your friends, or if they’ll make it out too, you’re left in a limbo of uncertainty and dread. You’re forced to move slowly because of your ankle, you’ve been trying to walk it off but the unclean saltwater is making the inflammation burn.

A scream echoes through the tunnel in front of you, freezing you and Luffy in place. You know that voice, it’s Zoro, tinny and distorted from the stone and water but so real and so filled with agony and desperation. It’s a call for help.

“ZORO!” Luffy yells back, his heart pounding in his chest, breathing becoming erratic, “please! Where are you??”

But there’s no answer. Luffy turns to you, fear-filled eyes watering, and he places a hand on your shoulder, determination filling his voice.

“Stay here. I need to go help Zoro. I’ll be back for you, [name].” And before you have a chance to react he lets go of your body, your warmth and light leaving you, racing off down the corridor and disappearing.

You trip and fall to your knees without him, soaking you up to your waist. You’re left with nothing and no one and you’re too scared even to scream. You can’t do anything, left weaponless and injured, the water ripples around you and you can’t even move. And you’re forced to wait like this until sound ricochets behind you, an inhuman and ancient sound, the water exploding around you and stone crunching as if it were sand. Writhing, ink-black eels with unseeing eyes and too-symmetrical fangs are bursting from the walls in a tidal wave of suffocation, blood-lust for your fear. You can tell they’re eels from the way they squirm and splash against your body, and the walls cave in and stone tumbles upon you, but it’s only these sensations of pain and cacophonic sound that guide you to your horrible new reality because there’s no light anymore, not at all. Immobile, all you can do is scream and swing wildly with your hands as you’re dragged to the ground, plunged beneath the water that now grows thick with the fallen stone and with your blood.

You’re convinced for a moment that you’ve died, your brain can’t process the warmth and the flood of air to your lungs. Your eyes fly open as you soar from the ground, carried securely as the ceiling overhead shatters, you’re drowned in beautiful, beautiful light and sky at last. You’re laying bridal-style in Sanji’s arms, with one powerful kick he’s freed you both from the dungeon, the island luckily not far above. You look up at him, your head resting against his chest, he’s breathing heavily, staring stoically upwards. It’s all over.

____________________________________

You wake up in Chopper’s office. Your head is ringing and you feel so heavy, and your left leg is numb, and the whole room is blurry. Chopper rushes over to you, hopping up on a stool and resting a hoof on your shoulder.

“[Name]! Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake, how’re you feeling?” he says, smiling down at you.

“Not… ah, I mean, my leg just…”

“Mm. You got a pretty big gash on your lower leg. I've been trying to fight off the infections all night, but you seem to be stabilizing. It’s lucky how fast Sanji was able to find you.” Chopper’s ears twitch a bit with nerves.

“Thank you, Chopper.” You manage a smile for him. “Is everyone else ok? Did we all make it out?”

And so Chopper tells you how yes, everyone’s ok, the whole crew escaped the dungeon and found the ship again. And you and Zoro are the only two who ended up with serious injuries, Zoro with three broken ribs and you with your mauled leg. But you’ll both make full recoveries, so it’s alright. And you’re told that you’ll have to be very careful for at least a week, until the stitches and staples can be safely removed, that’s a long time to limp around the ship and lie in bed but you’re just grateful right now that everything’s all over.

Worried about Zoro and his whereabouts, Chopper leaves you to rest and stare at the ceiling. And that’s when Luffy bursts in, coming over to you and sitting on the bed, looking at you with concern. And you stare back at him, neither of you say anything, until he leans in to give you a hug and starts asking after you.

“Don’t touch me, Luffy.” You look away, your voice is ice.

He freezes. He isn’t used to this from you, he looks betrayed, a bit, and confused, this makes you feel angrier because how can he not see what he did wrong? His eyes narrow and slowly he gets up, and turns, and leaves, and now you’re here alone again.

_______________________________________

You’re sitting alone on the deck. You’re getting air, your leg is raw and in pain and the cool evening air is refreshing against your face. Your hands are folded in your lap, you just want to sit here in silence.

Steps you don’t want to hear, a tap on your shoulder you don’t want to feel, you don’t want Luffy to be here right now and you don’t want to have this conversation but he’s perched next to you, leaning over you. He wants a hug, probably. He misses you.

“Hey, are you mad?” he asks in a small voice, head cocked.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

He just looks at you, biting his lip.

“You left me alone in the tunnel when I was hurt. I could barely walk on my own and I didn’t have a weapon or… or anything!” Hey, no, don’t cry yet, you think to yourself. Your voice is breaking. “I really, really needed you!”

Luffy sort of curls away from you, his fists are balled tightly. “I had to help Zoro! He was in trouble! I don’t know what you wanted me to do, [name]!”

“Really? Really you don’t know?” You’re so upset and sad, you stand up to get away from him, stumbling on your burning leg, defiant. “You could’ve carried me! You could’ve put me on your back! You could at least have found somewhere dry and safe for me to hide, you could have given me a light, I don’t know, Luffy! You could have done so many things…” You’re really, truly near tears now. “I was hurt, I was defenseless, I was scared, I thought you knew all that…”

“Zoro needed my help.” Luffy is scary when he’s mad, it’s awful when he’s mad at you, when his voice gets authoritative. “I’m not sure what to say, [name], I was going to come back for you-”

“But you didn’t! Sanji saved me. I could’ve died, Luffy!”

He makes this little angry whine in his throat and then says, “I just needed to rely on you! I had to help Zoro!”

Which makes you snap. “Stop saying that!” you shout, “I was hurt and scared and I couldn’t fight!” And out of rage and cloudy pain you scream, “WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME??” and strike Luffy across the face.

You expect this not to hurt him. It shouldn’t, not with his rubber body, it’s more a display of your deep anguish and frustration, but he cries out in pain and clutches his face. He begins to cry. Your heart is crushed into sand.

But you can’t do this anymore and you just limp away.

_______________________________________

These two days are so long. They’re so, so long, longer than two years. Your leg flares up in horrible, unending pain and your heart wails to you but you can’t do anything. You’re so angry. You and Luffy aren’t speaking, he avoids you, he looks away stoically when you’re close by. This has never happened to you, you miss that loving, sweet boy attached to you like a koala, you miss getting kissed, you miss everything. But neither of you know what to say. You’re both sad and torn up inside, Luffy just feels so confused and frustrated all the time now, shutting down completely.

Everyone else knows what happened. Zoro feels really terrible but he doesn’t say anything to either of you, he just retreats, cursing to himself over his own weakness, blaming himself and his vulnerability in that dungeon for hurting two of his best friends. Even with his broken ribs he trains and trains and reopens his wounds. And nobody knows how to help any of you. Not even Chopper, his pleading eyes begging Zoro to stay in bed, words stuck in his throat as he rebandages your wound, wiping blood away with shaking hooves.

But finally in the deep light of one sunset, at the end of those two days, you’re making your way slowly off of the deck when you hear your name screamed from behind.

You turn your head and Luffy scoops you up and slams you against the mast, he’s crying and shaking and holding you tightly in his arms.

“Please, please, I can’t do this anymore! I don’t wanna be mad at you, I don’t! I hate this!” he shouts in your face, voice loud and wavering.

You don’t know what to do but this feeling enveloping your body is incredible, so warm, your soul craved this in spite of it all.

“I’m so sorry, I feel so bad, I didn’t mean to get ya hurt, [name]! Oh, god…” He sinks down the mast onto the deck with you in his arms. “I don’t wanna forgive myself. I shoulda carried you, but I didn’t wanna put you in danger ‘cause I didn’t know where Zoro was, I really thought it was gonna be ok, and I was gonna come back for you, I really was!”

“Luffy… it’s ok, I’m sorry…” You wrap your arms gently around his body, your own tears coming now. “I just wanna forget all this, I hate when we’re mad at each other… I love you.”

“Mm- I love you too!” Luffy grins, eyes closed, face wet. “I just wanna keep you safe, that’s all I want.”

“It’s hard sometimes,” you whisper, “you love us so much, I know it’s hard, I know you get scared too.”

“I do get scared,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your shoulder, leaving tear streaks on your neck. “I just wanna make it all better…”

You’re smiling now. This is such a relief, such a weight off your heart, so you carefully lift his hat so you can ruffle his hair. “This is a good start.”

His hand goes to your leg, caressing timidly up and down your skin, his face is against yours but he’s looking down at your bandages, eyes scared and concerned.

“Ooh, [name], Chopper was teaching me how to make scar tissue stronger!” He taps the center of his torn chest. “You use two fingers and uh, like, make these little circles on ‘em, maybe I can do it on your wound and you can feel better?” He’s staring at you excitedly.

His kindness makes your chest feel warm. “You’re sweet, Lu, but it’s not a scar yet. You shouldn’t touch wounds when they’re fresh. I’d like that when it’s healed up, though…”

“Oh.” He’s a little disappointed, but understanding, and now he’s going back to thinking more, nibbling your shoulder a bit to get his mind working. “Sometimes when I’m hurt, Robin gives me massages. They feel real nice, do you want one?”

This sounds so good and you snuggle against him with the promise of such a perfect gift. “I’d really like that, actually. Maybe on my thigh? It’s pretty sore from all the limping.”

So Luffy leans into you in joy and relief, turning you around and pulling you into his lap, you turn your head to look up at him and everything seems to be ok now. You lay on his chest and his hands find your thigh on your hurt leg, he’s clumsy and doesn’t know what he’s doing but you feel him shivering in concentration, kneading your sore muscle with his fingers, and then with his palms, his skin smooth and calming against yours. He’s breathing softly in your ear, you close your eyes and let yourself be bathed in his touch, in his unwavering love for you.

Maybe you’ll need to have a real conversation about this with him, later. But now all you want to do is sit here against him, his weight shifting against you as he rubs your skin and hums quietly under his breath to soothe both of you.

“I love you,” you say again, very quietly, “and I’m gonna love you forever.”

He nods. He knows this well. His nose presses against your cheek, lips seeking yours, wanting to taste your words. And he echoes, “me too. Forever.”

#luffy x reader #one piece #luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x reader angst #luffy angst #one piece angst #luffy x reader fluff #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #one piece ask blog

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evil-youth-messrs · 3 months

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Okay so here's the list of moments in EPIC: the musical (in order) that make me go feral. Believe it or not, I tried to keep it as short and concise as possible but the albums are just too good.

The Troy Saga 💙

*tudududu dum tum tum tum tum*

PENELOPEEEE

who was that *CAWWWW* 🦅🦅

thisisthesonofnoneotherthan ~troooy's~ veryown prince hec!tor!

but when!? does a comet become a meteor??? (both solo and ensemble versions)

six! hundred! men

and ithaca's waiting, my kindom is waiting, PENELOPE'S WAITIIIING for meeee

my second iiin commaaand

we're up, we're off and away we go (again both versions)

I'm fiiiiiiine, Polites 🙄

stay back!!! (lotus eaters: stay back~~)

you can relax my friend

*the intro and pianooo for warriors of the mind*

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS I THAUGHT YOUUU

LET ME REMIND YOU

one day a boy came! for the thrill! a boy whose mind rivaled the boar's own wiiiiiiill

LET'S GO !!

*the entire chorus*

NAAAAAH DON'T BE MODEST, I KNOW YOU'RE A GODDESS

you are ~ATHEEENAA~ (*the growl* !!!)

if you're LOOking for a mentor, I'll make sure your time's well spent

*the chorus when they both sing*

*honestly every single line in this song*

The Cyclops Saga 👁

*the water droplets sound at the beginning*

loook at all this foood 😃

my name is nooooooobody, nooooooobody, noOoOoOoOoOobody

I'm so glad we see eye to eye

show me how. greatisyourwilltoSURVIIIIIIIVE

six hundred liiiives at stake

*how the guitar fades in in remember them*

what do we do with our fallen friends? *silence* remember them

*athena's piano and clock ticking*

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN! THE LESSONS! I THAUGHT YOU ??

he's still a threat! until he's DEEEEAAAAD

HEY, CYCLOPS!

remember them remember us REMEMBER ME

I'M THE REIGNING KING OF ITHACA I AM NEITHER MAN NOR MYTHICAAAL IIII AM YOUR DARKEST MOMENT I AM THE INFAAAMOUUUS. odysseus!

this way! you won't disappoint me, this way! you won't waste my time, thiiis waay

slefish and prideful and vain 🙄

YOU'RE NOT LOOKING FOR A MENTOR I'M NOT LOOKING FOR A FRIEND I MISTOOK YOU FOR A GENERAL WHAT A WASTE OF EFFORT SPENT

at least I know what I'm fighting for while you're fighting to be known

YOU'RE ALONE !!!

but not today for after all you're JUST A MAAAN

this day! you SEVER your own head, this day! you CUT the liiine

The Ocean Saga 🌊

*trumpetttt*

these ~waves~ and ~tides~

is it nature? or diviiiine?

COMRADES

full spead aHEAD TOWARDS THE ISLAND

an island in the sky 🤩

we're in the home of the ✨️wind god✨️ we don't know for sure how many floating islands have you seen before??

captain HOW? much longer til your luck. runs. out.

you rely on wit and people die on it

I took six hundred men to war! and not one of them died there. in case you needed a reminderr.

woooaahoookayyy? okay. thank you🙄

*ambient intro to keep your friends close*

*growly hahahas*

KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE AND YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER

if they wanna get the bag open you gotta say no sirrr.

open the bag, let's see what you got. NO! DO! NOT!

see how this bag is closed that's how it's supposed to be

I'm getting closer to youuuu (PENELOPEEE)

JUST KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN

wake up! wake up! odysseus, they're opening the bag WAKEEE UUUUP!

STOOOOfullOOOOspeedOOOOOaheadOORM

OOOOOOOOODYSSEUS OF ITHACAAAAA do you know who I am?

PO SEI DON PO SEI DON PO SEI DON poseidon 😨

I try to chill~ with the waves

*THE GROWLY VOCALS*

that's right the cyclops you made blind. is mine. NO

the pack of wolves is swimming with the shark now

RuThLeSsNeSs is MERCY upon ourselves

you 🫵 are the worst kind of good cause you're NOT. EVEN. GREAT!

a greek. who reeks. of false righteousness that's what I HATE

I mean you totally could've avoided all this had you just. killed. my. son. but nOoOu💅

it's the final crack we're 'bout to break the ice now

CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!

when does a ripple become a tidal wave?

*somebody stop me I just wrote every line of this song*

Click here for The Circe Saga 🐷

If you read all of that, thank you and honestly WOW.

#epic the musical #epic: the musical #epic the troy saga #epic: the troy saga #epic the cyclops saga #epic: the cyclops saga #epic the ocean saga #epic: the ocean saga #the odyssey #odysseus #greek mythology #jorge rivera herrans #jay rivera herrans

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oneshotnewbie · 5 months

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Could you write a one shot where there is a really bad storm hitting Seattle. Maya and Carina are stuck at the hospital and the fire station, and are trying but unsuccessful at reaching Reader. So they are both worried out of their minds. Then Maya has to go out on a call and find it was R who wrecked their car trying to get home before the storm hit. (Could be severe or non-severe injuries) R goes to the hospital with Maya in the aid car and Carina joins them in the ER.

Authors note: I heard the song "What the water gave me - Florence + The Machine" while writing this story. I would advise you to listen to the song as well while reading through this story to get the feel of a real Station 19 rescue mission like in the series. Of course it's not a must! ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sky over Seattle steadily darkened as pitch-black thunderclouds rolled in like a tidal wave. The wind began to howl as if playing its own somber tune, rushing restlessly through the skyscrapers of the city. Streets were quickly emptied as people rushed home for shelter. The trees bent under the force of the storm as if begging for mercy, but the storm was relentless. It thundered as if Zeus himself wanted to keep the crowds in their place while the rain fell in thick, large drops and threatened to drown Seattle. The sound of the wind, the falling of the rain and the thunder symphoned in a unique melody and conveyed a frightening atmosphere.

The telephones of the active fire brigade beeped in unison, a warning of the approaching storm that came in way too late. The tough captain of the fire department swallowed hard as she could not reach you, who worked just a few minutes away from her. But you did not answer, the connection was already disrupted, appearing to be off. "She wanted to be here fifteen minutes ago, Carina," both her and the brunette's worries grew with every minute through the phone as they imagined the worst possible scenarios without having any sign of life from you.

"Calm down, Bambina. There is probably total chaos on the streets. Fallen trees, flooding. Maybe she is just stuck in a traffic jam or an emergency came in."

The fire station was flooded with red alarm lights, while the walls shook from violent gusts of wind, preventing the young blonde from speaking further. Raindrops pelted against the roller shutter door, which opened more with every second, allowing the lightning strikes to break through their vision. -Fire engines 19 and 23. Ambulance 19 to Cedar Road Lane 6. Car struck by tree, person seriously injured and trapped.-

The firefighters rushed around, donning their suits and gear before grabbing their helmets. Like-minded, they rushed to the waiting vehicles, only Maya stopped briefly. „Please let me know if you hear anything from her. Stai attenta, bambina!" (Be careful, bambina!). She nodded, knowing that Carina could not see the gesture and hung up before hopping into the squad cars and starting the sirens. Pressing the accelerator, they raced through the whirlwind around them, trying to avoid the tree branches as much as possible.

Lightning flashed across the dangerous-looking sky, and thunder rolled at the same time like an angry demon. Maya clung to the steering wheel as she tried to keep her eyes on the wet, blurry road. They made their way through the flooded streets, branches flying through the air and trash cans tipping over and spilling across the sidewalk.

It was as if the world around her was collapsing in a chaotic dance of wind and water. "Listen guys, I know you want to help the person in the car, but first and foremost, think about your health and your life," the storm roared so loudly that it seemed like it wanted to tear the entire city apart and hardly anyone understood what the captain was saying over the radio. "This is one of the worst storms in years, a state of emergency has been declared and normally no one should be on the roads, so it is a mystery to me why anyone would be so dumb to be driving,"

Her team was clearly tense, the radios crackling in their ears, but they nodded to the captain as confirmation that they had understood the message. Maya did not want to lose any man or woman in her group to the storm. "We are approaching the scene of the accident. Be ready for anything, people. We can do this!" she said calmly and encouragingly while the fire engine´s sirens blared through the dark night.

When the team from Station 19 arrived at the scene of the accident, they were confronted with a dark and serious scene. The car is crammed in by a huge tree and is badly deformed, the hood of which is completely smashed and dented while some branches have pierced through the windshield and turned the interior of the vehicle into a field of rubble.

The fire team jumped out of the emergency vehicles and fought through the wind and rain to reach the car. But the captain remains rooted to the spot in front of the stern of the wreck, looking absentmindedly at the license plate, which was hanging askew. "Y/n.. IT IS Y/N!" she shouted unhindered amid the raging and deafening thunder and her team stopped their tasks in shock, Andy and Gibson focusing their gaze from the thick tree over to the woman in the driver's seat, who Warren was already trying to find vital signs on.

Maya lunged forward, her heart pounding with worry. Her helmet was almost blown away by the wind as she stepped closer, the flashlight shaking in her hand as she shone the light through the shattered window. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she recognized the familiar features amid the devastation. She was confirmed that she did not have a number twist on the license plate, but that it really was you. Seriously injured and trapped in the car. “Y/n!” she cried, her voice filled with a terror she had never known before. Maya knew she had to stay calm now, that she had to be the professional captain, but her heart was screaming with fear and worry.

The other members of the fire department worked quickly and precisely. "Dean, Montgomery. Grab the hydraulic cutters! We need to get her out of here as quickly as possible. Her vital signs are at risk of plummeting!" shouted Warren. They used cutting tools to fight against the metal of the car on the passenger side and the resistance of the tree while Maya knelt next to the wreckage and held your hand, which was probably thrown out of the broken window after the impact and was now lying on the scratched paint of the outer door. "It looks bad in there! Be careful not to hurt her any further, approach carefully!"

Your eyes were dazed with pain and fear, but you were breathing, albeit weakly. Hearing her voice, you seemed to find some peace for a moment, your dull eyes glued to hers. Desperately wanting to say something, you opened your mouth from which blood began to ooze, but your crushed and injured lungs did not even let in air.

"Hold on, darling. Do not say anything, I am here. We will get you out of there, I promise." The blonde whispered, her voice firm to reassure you even as her own thoughts were caught in a chaos of worry and despair. The minutes stretched endlessly as her team struggled to bend the metal and free their captain's fiancée. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the metal gave way. Using their combined strength, Vic and Warren pulled you from the wreckage, carefully, yet as quickly as possible. As soon as they freed you, they carried you to the ambulance. Maya followed them, never taking her eyes off you. Your condition was serious, but you were still clinging to life. "Carina is coming. She is going to be at the hospital, she will be by your side the second you get there. But you have to fight now, okay? Fight for us."

The rain continued to beat down on you, the storm was still raging, but in the midst of this darkness and chaos there was a glimmer of hope- you were saved, and she would do anything now to help you fight through this storm. But it was hard to keep positive thoughts as the storm continued to sing its destructive song. She closed her eyes tightly as she rode in the ambulance and prayed, with your bloodstained hand in hers, that the next morning would bring a certain light to your health.

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latanyalove · 2 months

Text

Don't Go PT Two

This is Part 2 of Don't Go! Here is Part 1!

Please support me by liking, reblogging and commenting on this! Also please follow for more content!

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

Pairing: Portgas D Ace x Y/N

Dialogue: “Don’t go. I don’t even know who I am without you.” 🔥🏴‍☠️

A/n: I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

Out of all of the jobs he could have had. It was a pirate.

The mere mention of the word 'pirate' sent shivers down your spine. You were terrified at the thought of encountering a pirate, imagining the ruthless and unpredictable nature of these seafaring outlaws.

The tales of their plundering, pillaging, and ruthless violence made you fear for your safety and the safety of those around you.

So when you heard Marco say that he and his group were pirates, your heart dropped. The fear and anxiety that had built up over the years came rushing back, and you couldn't help but imagine the worst possible scenarios of what being associated with pirates could mean for you.

"Sorry, I need to go," you quickly excused yourself from Marco, leaving the hall.

The last thing you wanted was to be caught up in any illegal activities or put yourself in danger by associating with pirates. . . .

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

Ace saw you run away from the hall with a distressed look, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of concern and curiosity.

He wondered what had happened to make you react like that, so he excused himself from the group and went over to Marco, hoping to find some answers.

"What happened with Y/N?" He asked Marco since he was the last person you were with, standing beside him.

Marco then looked at him with a serious face, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked, "Why didn't you tell her that we were pirates from the beginning?"

Ace's eyes widened as the realization hit him like a tidal wave. He now understood why you had run off in distress. The revelation that Marco and he were actually pirates explained everything - the secrecy, the danger, and the constant need to be on the run.

Ace's concern for you deepened as he realized the magnitude of the situation and the potential risks it posed to your safety.

"I didn't want to scare her off," Ace admitted, his voice filled with regret. "I thought this island was going to be a small stop and the talk just kept being postponed," he said, glancing at the door you left at.

Marco sighed, "Go get her then," he said, his tone filled with urgency. "She deserves to know the truth, Ace. And if you truly care about her, you'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

"I will," Ace responded resolutely, determination shining in his eyes. He knew that he couldn't let you go without explaining the truth, no matter the consequences.

Ace quickly made his way towards the door you had left through, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. He knew that he had to find you, to explain everything, and to make things right.

He couldn't bear the thought of you being left in the dark, unaware of the dangers and secrets that surrounded him, Marco and the others. As he stepped outside, he scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of you amidst the bustling streets.

Ace searched the busy marketplace frantically, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of you, but you were nowhere to be found. With a sinking feeling in his chest, he made his way towards your bakery, hoping that you had sought solace in the familiar surroundings.

As he walked, he couldn't help but replay the events in his mind, regretting his decision to keep his true identity a secret and vowing to make things right with you.

He took a deep breath before asking curiously, "Why are you so terrified of pirates?"

You let out a deep breath, saying, "They destroyed the village and killed my parents," the words caught in your throat as memories of that fateful day flooded back.

Ace's heart sank even further as he remembered the pain and fear in your eyes when you had shared your tragic past with him. He understood now why you were so terrified of pirates - they had taken everything from you.

He wanted to assure you that, even though he was a pirate, he wasn't like the people who attacked your village. He wanted to show you that he could be trusted and that he would do everything in his power to protect you from any harm.

"Let me go!" A voice he knew too well yelled from somewhere nearby.

Without hesitation, Ace sprinted towards the sound of the familiar voice, his heart pounding with a mix of worry and determination. He knew that he couldn't let anything happen to you, not after everything you had been through.

"You guys aren't from here, aren't you?" You accused them as you tried to free your hands from behind you.

"Wow, what a smart cookie!" One man laughed, "You're right, we're pirates,"

"We saw you with Fire Fist Ace on this island and we're going to use you for bait to get him and his bounty!"

The others laughed with him, their cruel laughter echoing in the air.

The realization hit you hard as you looked around and saw that there was no one else in sight except for the pirates. Panic welled up inside you as you realized the gravity of the situation - you were completely alone with them and there was no one to help you.

Despite the fear and panic, you clung to the memory of Ace, knowing deep down that he was different from these pirates.

You then felt a gentle hand push your hair behind your ears, and when you turned to look slightly, you saw Ace standing beside you with a hair tie in his hand, a warm smile on his face.

Your heart skipped a beat at seeing him so close, and you couldn't help but blush.

You felt your heart flutter and you felt your breath catch in your throat. You felt yourself relax as you looked into his eyes, your heart still pounding in your chest.

In that moment, you remembered the moment you had with Ace at your bakery. Everything about him made you feel safe and calm, except for your heart that was beating fast. His presence was reassuring, and you couldn't help but trust him as he gently tied your hair back, his warm smile melting away your fears.

"Now tell us where Fire Fist Ace is or you're going to die," One of the armed men said, holding a knife dangerous close to your neck.

"I don't know where he is," you lied, your voice trembling slightly. You couldn't risk putting Ace in danger by revealing his whereabouts, even if it meant risking your own life.

You just hoped that he stayed with Marco and the others. Then maybe your death wouldn't be in vain.

"Stop lying!" one of them yelled, his voice filled with anger and frustration. The knife pressed harder against your neck, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your body.

It's funny when you think about it. Your parents were killed by pirates and now you were going to die from one too. Yet you fell in love with a pirate and you were going to die protecting him.

"I told you I don't know where he is," you insisted, your voice shaking.

"Okay, your loss," the pirate sneered, tightening his grip on the knife. "If you won't cooperate, then we have no use for you."

The pirate's grip tightened on the knife, and you braced yourself for the pain that was about to come.

You closed your eyes tightly, preparing for the inevitable strike of the knife. But just as the pirate was about to deliver the fatal blow, you heard a loud crash and felt a rush of heat.

Opening your eyes, you saw Ace standing in front of you, his body engulfed in flames as he fiercely fought off the pirates.

With incredible speed and precision, Ace effortlessly dispatched each of the pirates, his flames dancing and crackling with intensity. In less than a minute, the once-threatening group lay defeated on the ground, and you couldn't help but marvel at Ace's sheer power and skill.

After defeating the last guy, Ace immediately focused on you, his eyes were still filled with the hatred he had for the enemies. However, as soon as he saw the fear in your eyes and the blood trickling down your neck, his expression softened and he rushed to your side.

"Are you okay?" Ace asked as he ran over to untie the ropes around your wrist, his eyes filled with concern. He gently inspected the wound on your neck and applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this," he said softly, his voice filled with regret.

"It's- It's not your fault," you muttered, your voice barely audible. Despite the pain radiating from your neck, you managed a weak smile, grateful for Ace's timely intervention.

"Don't try and speak!" Ace warned, his voice filled with urgency. "You need to save your energy. I'll get you out of here and to safety as quickly as possible."

"I don't think-" you started, your voice trembling.

"Don't say it," Ace said, his emotions going on a rollercoaster. "You're going to make it. We're going to get through this together."

As you tried to speak, you coughed up blood, causing Ace's concern to deepen. He quickly applied more pressure to your wound and reassured you that help was on the way.

"Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with determination.

"I know you're a pirate, Ace, and I don't hate you for it," you muttered, your words barely audible. Ace's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, his expression softened. He squeezed your hand gently, a mixture of gratitude and regret in his eyes.

You then felt your consciousness slipping away, your vision blurring as darkness closed in. Ace's voice became distant, but you could still hear the desperation in his pleas. As you fought to stay awake, a sense of gratitude washed over you, knowing that even in this dire situation, you were not alone. . . .

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

You woke up with a pounding headache, and even the slightest movement caused sharp pain to shoot through your body. Opening your eyes was excruciating, and you winced as the bright light pierced through your eyelids.

After a few minutes, you cautiously tried to open them again, and to your relief, your eyes slowly adjusted to the light. As your surroundings came into focus, you realized you were in a small, dimly lit room with bare walls and a single window slightly covered by thick curtains.

You couldn't move your hands and you thought it was because you just woke up. There was something, however, that caught your attention. Someone was sleeping on top of you and you knew exactly who it was by the type of hat that was covering his face.

Why was Ace sleeping here?

Having your other hand available, you slowly reached out for his hat and lifted it from his face.

As you lifted Ace's hat from his face, a wave of affection washed over you. His peaceful expression and tousled hair made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. Despite the mysterious circumstances, seeing his face asleep gave you a sense of comfort and reassurance.

"Ace," you whispered, hoping to wake him gently without causing any alarm.

As you whispered his name, Ace stirred and slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times as he adjusted to the dim light in the room.

"Hey there," Ace mumbled, his voice husky with sleep. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned, his eyes finally focusing on you.

Ace's hair was tousled and messy from sleep, giving him a charming and disheveled look. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it, but it only made it look even more endearing.

When he realized it was you, he jumped up in surprise, his eyes widening. "You're awake!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with confusion and happiness.

"What happened?" you asked, seeing that you were in a hospital room.

Ace's expression turned serious as he explained, "You were losing so much blood."

You then remembered what had happened; you got kidnapped and then stabbed in the neck. The shock of the memory flooded your mind, and you couldn't believe the danger you had narrowly escaped.

Ace went back to laying half of his body on the bed, but this time he didn't go to sleep. Instead, he looked at you intensely, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and concern.

"You scared me," he admitted softly, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm.

"I thought-"

"But I didn't, did I? I'm still alive and breathing," you stated, trying to assure him and yourself of your survival. Ace's grip on your arm tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Thank goodness," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of vulnerability.

Feeling the warmth of his touch, you found comfort in the connection as he then slowly entwined your hands together, a silent expression of support and reassurance in the face of the danger you had both endured.

"Ace, I know that you're a pirate. Marco told me," you started, not sure what to say after that.

"Really? I'm sorry for hiding it from you," Ace replied, his gaze filled with regret. "I didn't want to put you in danger, but I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

"It's not your fault, I shouldn't have been hating on all pirates when there's people in the world like you,"

Ace's eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"You know, I got an invitation to join your crew by Marco," you said, watching Ace's eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" Ace exclaimed, his surprise evident in his voice. He paused for a moment, processing the information, before a wide grin spread across his face.

"Have you considered joining?" he asked, his excitement palpable. "With your cooking and bravery, I know you'd be a valuable addition to our crew."

Blushing, you glanced down at your intertwined hands, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. "Well, um, I haven't really thought about it...but it's definitely something I'm considering," you replied, a shy smile playing on your lips.

"I'm so happy, Oh i'm so happy I could kiss you!" Ace said happily but stopped after realising what he said.

Ace's face turned bright red as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth. He quickly cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Um... I mean, I'm just really glad you're considering it. No need for any kissing, I swear," he stammered, his embarrassment evident in his voice.

You couldn't help but giggle at his adorable reaction, feeling your heart flutter with joy.

Quickly, you gestured for him to come closer, unable to resist the pull of his infectious enthusiasm. As he leaned in, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness filled the air, but deep down, you knew that this moment was the beginning of an extraordinary adventure.

You gently held his cheek and brought him closer, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. As your lips finally met in a soft, sweet kiss, you both knew that this moment marked the start of an extraordinary adventure filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

But of course, gentle meant nothing to Ace, and the kiss quickly became more intense and passionate. The world around you faded away as you both lost yourselves in the moment, fueling the fire of your newfound connection and setting the stage for the passionate journey that lay ahead.

Ace's arms roamed eagerly, exploring every inch of your body with a hunger that matched the intensity of his kiss. The electric current that surged between you ignited a fire within, igniting a desire that could not be contained.

"Can you guys stop eating each other for one minute," Marco said at the doorway, interrupting the passionate moment between you and Ace.

Startled, you both pulled away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but unable to hide the smiles on your faces that spoke of a love that couldn't be contained. . . .

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

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theragethatisdesire · 8 months

Text

much ado about nothing chapter 7 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

okay so i guess the responses i got on my "i have writer's block wahhh" post worked because GUESS WHAT I FINISHED THIS MORNING. this chapter!!! i have been aching to share this (even when it was half-done), i literally cannot wait any longer. this is an eren pov chapter so you guys already know it's going to be fun. lots going on, and please don't hate me for the end, i promise there's a master plan in place!!! i hope you guys enjoy :-)

specific cws: smut, rough sex, use of names (both endearing and derogatory so take that as you will), drinking, swearing, i want to give eren a giant hug

“Love sought is good; but given unsought, is better.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 1)

Eren has no excuse for any of it. No excuse for stepping in, for throwing Floch against the bar. He knows you, knows you have enough experience with awful men to know how to handle yourself. He just couldn’t help himself.

And now he’s gone and acted out again without thinking. The cold winter air sobers him up, brings Eren back to himself, and when he looks down at you, all cute and furious with him, the heat in Eren’s veins dies. A pregnant pause stretches between you both, you with your arms crossed and glaring up at him, and Eren, surely with hearts in his eyes, looking down at you, something apologetic beginning to write its way into his features.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Well, so much for that. The venom in your voice reignites Eren’s temper, fans the flames back into a full-blown inferno.

“My problem?” Eren growls, stepping closer to you. “What the fuck is your problem? I was just getting that prick out of your face. I’d think I deserve a thank you more than anything.”

“It wasn’t your place,” you huff.

“My place?” Eren nearly shouts, exasperated. “You’re the one who wanted to be friends so badly, was I supposed to just sit back and watch while he drooled all over you? Give me a fucking break.”

“That’s not– ugh, you’re really fucking frustrating, you know that Eren?”

It’s like watching all the ghosts of his past jump out at him through your teeth; Eren flinches, feels his fury rushing in his ears like a tidal wave.

“I’m–? Fine, fine, yeah, I’m the frustrating one. Definitely not you, throwing a goddamn temper tantrum over the stupidest shit imaginable, makes perfect sense. Really putting that smart little head to use, aren’t you?”

“Oh? ‘My girl’?” As soon as the words hit him, plunging through his chest like daggers, Eren’s blood runs cold. So you had caught his little slip-up. “What the fuck was that, then?”

Eren stutters, words caught in his throat at the worst possible moment. “Y-you know, like my girl, like you’re my friend or whatever.”

“Uh-huh,” you eye him disbelievingly, “you may as well have hiked your leg up and pissed on me in front of him. Am I supposed to be your fucking property or something because we had sex? Is that it?”

“What? No, I–” you’re faster than him, cutting him off.

“Don’t you already have your hands full with your ex?”

That crosses a line, pushes your fight into an entirely new territory. Eren’s eyes narrow. “Are you really bringing up Breeze right now? Like she…Jesus, like she even fucking matters?”

He watches the way you flinch when he says her name, the way your eyes widen, something he hadn’t expected out of you after with your little snide comments today. Interesting.

“She doesn’t matter to me, but I know she matters to you. As your friend, I’m just letting you know it sounds like a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea?”

“Getting back together with her,” you say, like it should be obvious.

It hits Eren like a truck; so that’s what’s gotten into you? You think he’s getting back together with Breeze, as if you didn’t text your ex that you were “totally in love with” on that godforsaken night at Paradise? Eren can still hear the slur of your words in that maddeningly confusing voicemail.

“Even if I was getting back with Breeze,” Eren snorts at the very idea, “which I’m not–”

“Oh yeah?” you counter, stepping forward to nearly touch your chin to his chest with how severely your head’s tilted up at him, “never took you for a liar, Eren.”

“A liar? When did I fucking–”

“Sasha saw you two at 104 the other day. You’re not fucking slick, you know.” Eren hates that tone in your voice, smug and wounded all at once. He wants to tear his own hair out.

“Oh, so you just know everything, don’t you?” Eren’s voice is shaking under his efforts to keep it at a low volume, keep you with him outside of your little bar and just make you listen to him. He watches your posture change ever so slightly, a shoulder turning towards him. “I was telling her to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Over coffee?” Your voice is still clipped, snarky. “Sure, Eren.”

Eren tries to keep himself in line, but his temper gets the better of him yet again, shooting out sharp and lethal. “Isn’t it a little hypocritical of you to avoid me over that, when it’s really you that’s getting back with your ex?”

Your eyes shoot open, and you spin on your heel to fully face him. “What?”

“You think I didn’t listen to your little voicemail?” Eren seethes, the full-bodied ugliness of his anger warping his face into a scowl. You don’t deserve the brunt of his temper, he knows you don’t, but he’s failing at every turn to reign himself in.

“You can’t throw that in my fucking face, I don’t even remember it,” you cut him off, eyes narrowed into little slits.

Eren freezes in place. The world around him seems to slow; the only thing tethering him to this plane is the way you’re looking up at him, furious and beautiful in the buzzing neons of Scout’s. He knew you’d been drunk, but not that drunk.

Hey, Eren– fuck, Stor, leave me alone! I’m just gonna talk to him really fast! Sorry, Historia’s all over me because I did something bad. I– I texted my ex, Luke. I never told you about him because he’s like, the worst, you’d hate him. But the funny thing is, I don’t even think I care? Maybe I do because I really was like, totally in love with him. Maybe he’ll text me back and we’ll fall in love again. But…I don’t know, Eren. I think about you all the time. I think I…I think I like you. Not like a friend, more than that. Wait, fuck, can I delete this? Just…I don’t know. Call me tomorrow or something. I want to talk about it before I can go down the black hole of Luke all over again. I know it’s not what you expected, and maybe you don’t feel the same, but…maybe we can just– shit, Historia, don’t hang up the–!

“Whatever I said was bullshit, I didn’t mean a word of it. I’m not getting back with my ex, or whatever else I came up with while I was blacked out.”

Your present-tense voice, affirmative and clear, snaps him out of his daze. I didn’t mean it. Every word of that voicemail that Eren knows so well, has basically memorized after listening to it day in and day out, trying to analyze every little drunken intonation of your voice– it was bullshit. Eren steels his jaw, musters up all the willpower he can dredge up in his body.

“You didn’t mean it,” his voice sounds alien as it leaves his mouth, distant.

“Yeah, exactly,” you’re mean, you’re so mean, not even stopping to acknowledge the sinkhole ripping open in Eren’s chest, “so before you rip me a new one, make sure that you’re not thinking about where you’d rather be right now.”

So you’re not just mean, you’re oblivious, it seems. For some reason, even through the shattering, crushing feeling erupting beneath Eren’s hoodie, it infuriates him. You just don’t see it, don’t see him. You didn’t mean a word you’d said to him in that damned voicemail, so he can’t tell you necessarily. It crosses his mind that maybe he can show you; the last dying ember of Eren’s rational line of thought sparks and spits at the idea in protest, but eventually chokes out, slowly dying in the tidal wave of emotion that takes him over.

“Oh, I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be,” Eren's voice starts low and venomous, but it escalates with each passing word, “trust me, I showed up just aching to get into it with you. Just dying to have you rip me apart for something that I didn’t even fucking do!”

Not even a lie, honestly.

“You’re such an– ugh!” You shriek, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“A what? Say it.”

“An asshole!”

“Is that what I am?” Eren’s backing you up against the bricks, making good use of his height to tower over you. Some sick part of him relishes in the way that, while your eyes remain blazing furiously enough to send a weaker man to his knees, your height difference forces you to cower under him. “An asshole?”

“Yeah,” you counter, glaring up at him defiantly, “you’re a fucking asshole, Eren.”

His proximity to you is making him dizzy and a little unhinged, and through the drinks and his anger and the mere inches between your heaving chests, Eren feels his blood start to run hot in an entirely different way. The leash he holds on his own temper, his own throat-closing desire, is dragging along the floor as he backs you fully against the wall, and Eren’s too wound up to bring himself to care.

“That’s not what you were calling me when I had my head between your legs, now is it?”

That shakes you, makes your jaw drop a little. Eren’s vaguely aware of your fingers twitching and clenching at your side, inwardly braces himself for a slap to the face. “Well, you weren’t acting like an asshole then.”

Eren smirks, leans into his own cruelty. “What, you jealous that you haven’t been getting all of my attention? Is that what’s got you acting all mean?”

“Cut it out, Eren.” Your eyes are telling him you’re still mad at him, furious even, but Eren doesn’t miss the way the rise and fall of your chest grows ever so slightly more frantic, the way your tongue darts out anxiously to wet your lips.

“Or what?” Eren leans down, boxing you in with one arm on either side of your head.

“I– we’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He widens his eyes innocently. “What am I doing?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hiss, but if you ask Eren, it sounds an awful lot like a moan is lodged in your throat, like your words are lacking the conviction that you’re trying to muster. He pushes himself in closer to you, noses mere inches apart, a wicked grin splitting his face.

“Is it working?”

Eren’s lips meet yours at the same moment that his hand whips out to catch your arm where you’re swinging it up to slap him. A broken little whimper leaves your mouth, spills into his, as your arm slackens in his grip. Eren feels your free hand fist into the hair at the nape of his neck, lets a groan fly out into nonexistent space between your lips. He’s been driving himself crazy thinking about this moment, the next time he’d get to feel your mouth on his again if it ever even happened, what you taste like, the little noises you make. The moment that’s been keeping him up at night is finally here, inflating his wounded ego like a balloon, and it feels fucking good.

You bite a little too hard into his bottom lip, the tangy, copper taste of Eren’s blood leaking into the kiss, making it clear that this doesn’t mean everything has settled between you both, but for the time being, Eren doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way your plush thighs feel wrapped around his waist, how easily he can scoop you up and pin you against the wall, the little moan that slips from your lips when he presses the length of his body entirely into you.

He doesn’t take his time, doesn’t savor the moment like he’ll surely wish he did tomorrow; Eren devours you, running a hand up your bare leg and under the hem of your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing at your hips.

“Bet you’re wet under this short little skirt, aren’t you?” Eren huffs into your mouth, sucking on your tongue.

“Fuck you,” you spit, squeezing your thighs tighter around his hips.

“Is that what you want?” Eren whispers, dizzy and drunker on you than the three Jameson shots he’d knocked back at the bar.

“I–”

“Been thinking about it?” Eren can’t stop himself, trying desperately to keep his lips on yours through the spill of words from his mouth. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been so mean to me, grinding all up on me in that club, teasing me, then running off. Just wanted a little love, didn’t you?”

“That depends,” you pant, moving your face to kiss up his neck, leave little nips in your wake. Eren groans deep in his chest, pushing against you even more insistently.

“On?”

“How bad you really want it,” you bite into his earlobe, steal another shaky groan from him.

Eren’s not a submissive guy, not by any means, but the thrill your words send running through his veins just about makes him drop you.

“Want me to beg?” Eren growls, shoving into you and biting deep at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I’d only ever beg for you, baby.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Beg for me when you’ve got another girl waiting for you?” Your anger has fizzled into a bitter sarcasm that goes straight between Eren’s legs and knocks him right in the ego all at once, tongue tracing the shell of his ear.

“Fuck– you’re my girl, my favorite girl, did you forget?” Eren grabs your face, forces your head back against the brick so you can look at him, eyes blown wide with lust and glossed over, mouth open in a desperate pant. “Told you the first time, you’re the best I’ve ever had. Didn’t think I was just fucking around, did you? It’s just you, only you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you dig your teeth into the thumb Eren’s worked between your lips, making him suck in a sharp ouch between his lips, “sure don’t feel like your favorite girl.”

“Sounds like I need to fix that, then,” Eren lets a hand trail down between the little space he’s leaned back to create between your bodies, finds his way to the damp fabric of your panties, “oh, who’s the liar now?”

“Don’t– fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head when he starts pressing into where he knows your clit is, rubbing insistent circles over the cloth just to elicit that reaction from you, rip the control right out of your pretty little hands. Eren chuckles down at you, dark and dangerous, amused at how quickly you melt for him.

“Thought we weren’t doing this?” He parrots your words from earlier, nosing at your neck. “Thought I was an asshole?”

“You are,” you grit out through a clenched jaw, but Eren notices the little forward push of your hips, notices that you’re trying to hold yourself back from rubbing yourself into his palm.

“And that gets you wet,” Eren counters, grinding the heel of his palm up into your clit and wrenching a little gasp from you, “bet you liked watching me in there, bet you would have loved watching me kick his ass for you.”

Eren pauses, waits to hear if you’ve got anything to say for yourself, but you’re already half-gone, rolling your hips against the steady rocking of his hand and whining in your throat. He smiles– god, you really are his favorite.

“Say it,” Eren growls into your skin, slipping a finger past the fabric of your panties to slide it into you, not the whole thing, but just a knuckle, just enough to make you shudder in his arms, “tell me you need me, want to hear you say what this perfect pussy’s already telling me. C’mon baby.”

Just as your mouth opens, either to answer him or snark at him, Eren can’t be sure, a cat-call from across the street snaps both of you out of your haze, your eyes flying wide. You shove at him, wriggling in his arms until Eren mercifully drops you to your feet, reaches down to right your rumpled little skirt for you. You glower up at him, look him up and down, and just when Eren’s about to bullshit some excuse to run home, fuck into his hand with your name on his lips, you surprise him.

“I mean, after all that, the least you can do is walk me home.”

The necessary steps of Eren closing your tabs, walking into the whipping winter wind, walking through the streets silently with Eren side-eyeing you as you storm along, arms crossed petulantly, commence. They go by in a blur; Eren’s not even sure he should be doing this right now with the lack of blood flow to his head. You don’t make eye contact, and if Eren had any more conscious thought at the moment, he would think you’re already regretting this before it happens, but he can’t bring himself to care, not yet.

He’ll kick himself for this as soon as the sun rises, but for now? The only thing he’s worried about lies wet and pulsing for him under the hem of your skirt.

The moment you’ve gotten the door open, Eren’s got you shoved up against the wall again, letting his hands find their way under your skirt and grabbing at your ass with a quiet groan.

“Historia?” he questions, nipping at your earlobe just because he can.

“Ymir’s,” you pant, pushing him off of you and practically storming to your bedroom. It hits Eren that for all the time you’ve spent together, he’s never actually seen your bedroom. He thinks that maybe he’ll do a little investigating of his own once he’s fucked all the fight out of you.

Safely behind the door of your bedroom, Eren wastes no time in yanking his shirt over his head, reaching for yours only to find that you’ve already rid yourself of the cute little sweater he had been admiring from down the bar back at Scout’s. You’ve got a pretty lace number underneath, one that Eren almost doesn’t want to take from you, but he reaches behind you and unclips it. Eren plans on taking and taking and taking everything you’ll give him, just for tonight, because the sinking feeling in his chest is telling him to do it while he can; a girl like you never sticks around a guy like him for long, and he’s already done himself the favor of ruining most of the potential your relationship had anyway.

“Eren– oh,” the broken whimper that leaves your lips snaps him out of his thoughts, reminds him that he’s got one of your breasts in his palm and the other nipple between his teeth. Eren wraps his free hand around your back, pressing his splayed fingers between your shoulder blades to arch you closer to him until he’s so full of you he can hardly breathe.

He’s going to keep taking from you, take until he drowns in it.

“Feel good? Missed me?” Eren’s words come out a little garbled around the flesh in his mouth, but you get the message all the same, managing a sarcastic eye roll through your arousal. You decline to answer him, but Eren can read your body, so he digs his teeth in harshly to the little swell of fat on the underside of your breast, sucks a bruise in to cut that eye roll of yours right in half. Eren smirks when your eyes flutter closed, a reluctant hand coming up to thread through his hair. “Thought so.”

“Can you just–fuck–get on with it?”

“Uh-uh,” Eren straightens back to his full height, backs you onto the bed until your knees catch and you fall onto your back, glaring up at him defiantly. “Gotta get you ready for me, right? I’m sure you remember.”

He eats up the doubt that flickers across your face, the memory of the first time you’d taken him all over your expression. Eren reaches beneath your skirt, pulls your panties down your legs delicately, rubs his hands along your thigh-high stockings with an appreciative swear under his breath.

“There’s a zipper on the back,” you wiggle a bit to try and reach the fasten of your skirt, but Eren slaps a firm hand onto your hip, pins you back onto the bed.

“Think I’m letting you take this off? After you were teasing me with it all night?” Eren says, stretching his body over yours, taking full advantage of his size to cage you in.

“I wasn’t teasing,” you huff, “these are just my clothes.”

“Anything you wear is teasing,” Eren brings his fingers to your core, swipes through the wetness gathered there, “especially when you look like this.”

You open your mouth to retort, but your jaw goes slack when Eren rolls over your clit softly, rubbing little circles into it at the perfect speed, the perfect pressure. He’s not interested in teasing you too much, he wants to feel you break on him as many times as you’ll grant him the pleasure. Once your little gasps have begun to swell into quiet moans, Eren ventures down, pushes his middle finger into you, all the way to the hitch. Eren answers your widened eyes and your little gasp with a sharp hiss between his teeth, marveling at the way your walls cling to his finger, sucking him in when he slides out and back in again.

“Just like the first time,” Eren murmurs, leaning down to take your collarbone between his teeth, “are you always this tight?”

“I– I don’t– more, please.”

Eren smiles around the mouthful of your skin he has, feeling his heart swell at how cute and airy your words come out, how clear it is to him, even if it’s only for this precious moment, that you’re just as desperate for him as he is for you. He grants your wish, working a second finger in beside the first, curling them cruelly against that spot in your walls that he knows gets your heart racing.

“Eren,” you keen, arching off the bed and tossing your head to the side.

“So tight baby,” Eren says in awe, pulling his head to watch as your cunt leaves little white streaks on his fingers, “so warm, can’t fucking wait to get my cock in you.”

“P-please,” you sputter, hooded eyes sparkling at the mention of it. Eren thinks wildly that he might be falling in love with the little unshed tears that prick your eyes when you start to get close, the little broken pleas you give him.

“You gotta cum for me first.” Eren works his fingers faster, can feel the fluttering of your cunt around his fingers. He realizes how worked up he must have gotten you outside of Scout’s, how you’re so wet it’s dripping down your soft skin onto the sheets, and you haven’t even cum yet.

“I’m– I just want you to fuck me,” you say, whiny and pitiful.

“I will,” Eren coos, “missed this messy little cunt so much, I promise I’ll fuck you, just give me one first. Gotta make it fit, right?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, hips bucking up towards him. Eren watches, drinks the sight of you in: skirt pulled up around your waist, legs spread wide open for him, slick spread all over the inside of your thighs, bottom lip tucked so tightly between your teeth he worries you might draw blood. He commits the sight to memory, his pretty little student all strung out and begging for his cock, begging him to make you cum. If he remembers right, if he curls his fingers just a little more harshly–

“Eren–” your head shoots up suddenly, eyes flying wide open, fists tightening in the sheets.

“Right there?” Eren grins, sharp and half-crazed, raising his eyebrows at the reaction the new angle has brought out of you.

“Right– oh, oh my god, I–”

“Give it to me,” Eren urges, working his fingers even faster, “come on, baby, show me how much you missed me.”

With a cry, you twist and thrash under him, cumming almost violently. Eren drinks it down, leans down to press a kiss against your open mouth, pins your body to the bed so you can’t run from the vicious waves of pleasure wracking your body.

“There’s my girl,” he mutters, licking against your tongue, “such a good, good girl for me.”

When your orgasm finally starts to ebb, Eren doesn’t let up, not entirely; he keeps his fingers working in a slow drag through your walls, appreciating the way your muscles twitch and the way you feebly shove at his wrist.

“Eren…” you trail off weakly, fingers finally locking harshly around his hand and pulling him from you, “too much.”

“Thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’?” Eren snorts, finally obliging your earlier request and sliding your skirt over your legs, tracing his fingers up and down your thighs once you’re fully bare and beautiful underneath him, taking mental snapshots of every inch of smooth skin that he’s lucky enough to have under his touch.

“I do,” you say, eyeing him with a glint of annoyance in your eye. It just makes Eren smile bigger; you’re so cute when you’re mad.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eren says, situating his hands under your arms and practically throwing you up against the pillows at the head of your bed. You widen your legs so he can crawl in between them, kissing his way up your torso in a self-indulgent, tender way.

“Do we, um…” you start to question him, and Eren’s close enough to your face now that he can feel your cheeks warm. He sits up a little, arches a questioning brow down at you.

“What?”

“Do we need to use a condom?”

Eren frowns, confused. “I mean, after last time, I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am,” you confirm, nodding slowly, some odd emotion flickering over your features that could be anger, could be heartbreak, “but I don’t know if, like–”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” Eren catches your meaning, feeling his heart thud heavy and loud in his chest, “not since…”

“Oh,” you exhale quietly, nodding, “okay.”

“You?”

“Uh, no,” your voice is so low Eren almost doesn’t hear you, but he watches your head slowly lull side to side in confirmation, “no one else.”

Eren can’t excuse the rush of relief that courses through him, the swell of happiness to learn that no one’s gotten to see you like this since the last time he had. It goes straight to his cock, hard and drooling between his legs. Before he can get too wrapped up in the emotional side of things, Eren leans in hard to the horrible, possessive thoughts that have constricted him, laying himself over you and taking his cock in his hand, swiping it through the mess between your legs.

“Good.” He even surprises himself with that, looking down on you with dark eyes, eyes that promise ruin.

“Please,” you give him one more breathless plea, Eren swears you know too well how to snap his composure clean in half.

He pushes himself in, choking on a moan at how tight you are, vicelike and suffocating around him. A broken groan flies from your lips, your fingers tighten their grip on his biceps until Eren’s sure you’re going to break the skin, but he’s beyond caring. His mind wipes completely blank, save for the hot, wet heat that’s enveloping him, beckoning him to snap his hips forward viciously and be done with it. With what little self-restraint he can muster up, Eren flicks his eyes up to yours.

“So…it’s so–” another whimper cuts you off, and Eren can feel your thighs twitch on either side of his hips.

“Too much?” Eren manages to reign himself in, back out another inch or so.

“No,” you wrap a leg around his waist, shove him further into you and wrench a deep, guttural groan from his chest, “feels good, keep going.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Eren breathes, trying to retain any semblance of control over this situation, give you that dominant dirty talk that he knows gets you off instead of turning into a whimpering, moaning mess at the feel of you clenching around him. He bottoms out, feeling himself fuck all the way up into your tummy, head falling down onto your shoulder.

Eren manages to keep his pace slow and gentle, rolling his hips into yours like he’s making love to you, not saying goodbye. Little satisfied sounds are slipping out of your mouth, but Eren can see a flicker of consciousness in your eyes; you’re not drooling for him, out of your mind with want, not like the first time. He frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re…I don’t know, you seem like you’re somewhere else,” Eren hates having to admit that he notices, that he even cares, and the unsteady creak of his voice reflects that, just making him hate himself even more. You don’t seem to notice his vulnerability or, if you do, you aren’t affected by it. You simply raise an eyebrow at him.

“I mean…it’s good,” you say, eyes flitting around the room, like you can’t quite admit whatever you’re going to say while looking him straight in the eyes, “but I want you to fuck me.”

“I am fucking you.” Eren’s frown deepens into a scowl of annoyance. What, is he not good enough for you now?

“Well, literally speaking yes, you are fucking me. But,” a nervous giggle slips from your teeth, riling the anger starting to bubble under his skin again, “I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you.”

“Why are we talking about this while I am literally inside of you?”

“Because I want you to fuck me,” you raise your eyebrows meaningfully, canting your hips up towards him. It clicks– as much as Eren wants to show you what he feels because he can’t tell you, fucking you like an animal, as he’s prone to do, is what you want. Eren’s been so wrapped up in trying to relish whatever time he may have left with you before you inevitably cast him off to the side again, he’s not been paying attention.

“You want me to fuck you, huh?” Eren thrusts forward a little harsher, a little more pointedly. Your eyes roll back, a slow, indulgent smile spreading across your face.

“I want you to fuck me like I know you can,” Eren feels your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his ear to your lips, “unless that last time was all luck. Surely all those rumors aren’t false, are they?”

Eren knows you’re trying to get under his skin, to bite at him through the haze of the heavy air weighing down on both of you, to rekindle that anger that you had brought out of him outside of the bar. What is he going to do with you, incorrigible little thing that you are? If Eren Jaeger was a better man, he would stop this all right now, force you both to talk through the sharp, spiky things that hang in the balance between you two.

But Eren Jaeger is not a better man, he’s only a man, broken and needy and tucked into his favorite place on earth, with the girl of his dreams below him urging him to fuck her brains out. Is he really to blame?

Eren rips himself out of your grasp, standing tall and menacing on his knees over you.

“I’ll fuck you,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and shoving your knees towards your head, “but you better be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”

“Yeah? Well– oh,” a sharp, shrill cry of your own making cuts your voice off when Eren snaps his hips forward, brutal and unforgiving into the wet heat of your cunt. He doesn’t stop there, immediately pulling out and snapping forward again, hitting somewhere deep inside of you that, based on your face, he knows no man has ever been able to reach. He smirks, all cocky and cruel, setting a harsh pace that’s got you clawing at the sheets.

“What? Is it too much?” Eren whines down at you condescendingly, eating up the way you’re already whimpering and moaning. He can see tears glistening at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.

“No, no,” your voice is broken, breathless, “it’s– fuck, it’s so good, Eren–”

“Is this what you wanted?” Eren growls down at you, locking one strong hand around your throat. “Wanted me to fuck you like the little slut you are?”

“Yes!” Your admission comes out in a choked, watery cry, the tears in your eyes finally beginning to run down your temples. Even if it wasn’t written all over your face, Eren can feel how much you like it; your pussy is fluttering, pulsing around him, begging him to keep going. He drives his hips forward like a man starved, a man whose life depends on fucking you until you can’t walk straight for a week.

“Who knew?” Eren muses to himself, wiping the tears from your face. “Who knew my pretty girl was so filthy?”

“I, I–Eren,” you moan wantonly, thighs shaking under his firm grip. Eren should hold himself back, knows that you’re going to be so sore in the morning, but a sick part of him is glad for it. Let you walk around campus with the throbbing ache of him inside of you, maybe he’ll fuck you so hard that little twinge in your belly when you sit down never goes away.

“Say it,” Eren urges, squeezing your windpipe, “tell me how much you love it, tell me how bad this pussy missed me.”

“I–” you choke out around his iron grip on your neck, “I m-missed you, I love it w-when you fuck me–”

“Fuck you like a whore?”

“Fuck me like a w-whore,” you wheeze out, face reddening with shame. Eren loves it, wants to kiss the blush off your cheeks and swallow it whole.

“That’s right, baby,” Eren releases your throat, watches the way you heave and gasp as the air flows back into your lungs, only to be punched out by the force of his thrusts, “you love my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes, I– oh my god, Eren, I–”

“What?” Eren sneers, smirking wickedly down at you, “is my smart girl already so fucked out she can’t talk?”

“No, I– I just– fuck!” You’re so loud for him, if he knew that fucking you within an inch of your life would get him this, Eren never would have bothered playing nice in the first place.

“‘ve barely even started,” Eren laughs, mean and sharp, “and you’re already fucked so dumb you can’t even think. Think you can cum for me, just like this?”

He doesn’t even have to ask; he can feel the way your cunt’s starting to tighten around him so harshly that it nearly pushes him out. He’s bullying his way back into you on every thrust, forcing you to open up for him, to take what he has to give. Inwardly, Eren hopes to god you do cum soon; he’s not going to last, not with you spread out beneath him crying and wailing his name. Eren doesn’t think he can hold out much longer without filling you up, watching his cum seep out of you.

“Eren, Eren, Eren–” your nonsensical babbling has started to take the shape of his name, Eren can feel his ego swelling and swelling to the point of bursting. There’s a tone of warning in your moans; the onslaught of an orgasm is threatening to pull you under.

“Don’t you dare hold out on me,” Eren slaps your thigh hard, the tacky, wet sound of it echoing through the room, somehow finds the wherewithal to piston his hips even faster, “want to feel it, feel you cum on me.”

“I’m going to, I’m going– oh Eren–”

Eren practically snarls, leaning over to spit in your open, waiting mouth. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you–fuck–want your pretty cunt stuffed full of me? I’ll give you yours, just gotta cum for me and give me what’s fucking mine. Go on–”

Eren’s rambling is cut short by the loud, raspy sob you let out, clenching down around him so hard it almost hurts, drawing a loud, long hiss from him. He looks down past your quivering thighs, sees the frothy white that’s streaking his cock, and he’s done for. He grants you a few more sloppy thrusts, and then with one final snap of his hips, he stills, holding himself as deep inside as he can manage, pumping you full of him.

Before he can stop himself, Eren’s crashing into you, bringing your lips to his in a messy, frantic kiss, open-mouthed and teeth clacking together. He can feel your body shaking violently underneath him, rocking with wave after wave of post-orgasm bliss, but he can’t seem to break himself from you, collapsed and clutching onto your smaller frame like it’s the only thing tethering him to this earth.

“Eren,” you finally say weakly, voice muffled as you smack at his shoulder, “you’re heavy.”

“Sorry,” he grunts, rolling off of you reluctantly. Your crumpled, naked form is still there, still so tempting and soft and warm. Your eyes are shut, so you don’t see Eren’s tentative hand reach for your hip, just wanting to rub a thumb comfortingly over the bone there, before he pulls back, second-guessing himself. A few pregnant beats pass by, Eren biting his tongue and holding his breath as he waits for you to make the first move, to direct him into how to speak to you after what’s just happened.

“I need to shower,” you finally say, words coming out in a breathless admission.

“Yeah,” Eren answers lamely, sitting up and looking around your room. There’s postcards from almost every country imaginable, tacked above your desk and fluttering in the breeze from your heating system. The desk itself is a wreck, dozens of papers and books scattered around in seemingly no order. Eren notices a little stuffed teddy bear tossed onto the floor and picks it up with a smile, placing it back against your pillows.

“Are you…”

“Am I…?” Eren looks at you, hoping that his pleading gaze isn’t too horribly obvious.

“I think Historia will kill me if she sees you leaving in the morning.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Eren swears he can see something like regret fly over your face, and you turn your back to him instantly, scrounging around on the ground..

“I don’t know,” Eren wheezes through his shellshock, trying to force out a nonchalant chuckle that only sounds strangled and tense, “she’s pretty short. I don’t know how she could manage it.”

“You’d be surprised,” you slip a bathrobe over your shoulders and grant him a mirthless smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Eren dresses in the heavy silence that’s fallen over the room, pulling his shirt over his head and having to inwardly brace himself to face you. Eren’s comfortable with himself, probably knows a little too well that he’s an attractive guy, but he feels completely naked even fully clothed when he turns around to see you, standing all cozy and fucked out and sleepy in your fuzzy robe.

“So…” Eren trails off, wanting to smack his own face for speaking first.

“Have a good night, I guess,” you look up at him and then quickly away, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. Eren steels himself, lets every bit of courage he can find in his body rise to his mouth, forcing it to move.

“Are we, you know, good?”

“Good?”

“We said a lot of things to each other back there,” Eren can’t meet your gaze, can practically feel his face burning as he scratches anxiously at the back of his head. When he forces himself to look at you, there’s something odd and unreadable in your eyes. Are you sad? No, you’re smiling. Well, sort of smiling– it looks contrived, not real. But you’re not angry, not entirely.

“Yeah, I’m good if you are.” That stupid, insincere smile is still twisting your features.

Eren doesn’t like the look of dishonesty on you, but he’s fought enough for tonight. He’s sad, spent, and tired, and he figures it’s hopeless anyway.

“Okay, good,” he makes his way to your bedroom door, fingers twitching for the feel of your skin under his, eyes damn near watering, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with that, Eren’s left alone in the cold of your apartment hallway, alone and sickened by the feelings of satisfaction and longing swirling in his chest.

#eren #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x you #aot x reader #aot smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #much ado about nothing #much ado universe #much ado uni

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 8 months

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hey, yall like t4t lesbian steddie? how about transfem eddie beefing coming out to her girlfriend Real Hard?

also on ao3 here

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Eddie has never been able to control her mouth. Honestly sometimes she wonders if she has some kind of medical condition that makes her incapable of saying normal things at the appropriate time.

And this is a real problem when trying to figure out how to tell her girlfriend that she might kinda wanna be a girl too maybe. Because instead of sitting the love of her life down and calmly explaining that she’s been doing some thinking and might want to experiment with her gender more, Eddie just holds it all in until she projectile vomits the information at the worst possible time.

They’re snuggled in bed, hazy in post-coital bliss, Stevie burying her face in Eddie’s neck and nuzzling in with her nose like a kitten looking for milk. It’s adorable. Eddie half expects her to start making biscuits on her stomach.

And so when Stevie sighs contentedly, hums a little, “My boy,” with so much love in her voice Eddie kind of wants to cry, she’s not ready for the wave of wrongness that crashes over her, smashing the cozy, contented vibe in the room like it’s an actual tidal wave ripping the trailer to shreds.

So she does what she always does. Fucks it up.

“No I’m not,” she says, voice choked with panic.

Stevie stiffens against her. “What?” she asks.

“I’m not your boy,” Eddie says. “It’s not- I-”

Stevie draws away from her, and Eddie already misses the warmth. She keeps her eyes screwed shut, doesn’t want to see Stevie’s reaction to the information that her boyfriend is actually her girlfriend. And yeah, the logical part of her brain knows that it absolutely is not an issue. Stevie’s a lot of things (beautiful, wonderful, perfect, a teensy bit of a bitch but just enough to keep things interesting-), but she’s not a hypocrite, so the trans thing is obviously fine. And Stevie was well known for making her way through most of the female population of Hawkins High before she came out, so the girl thing is also obviously a non-issue.

But. That mean little voice in the back of Eddie’s head. The one that listened carefully to every bad thing anyone ever said about her- freak, monster, trash- and quietly stored them away just to take them out again when she’s alone at night. That voice is real loud right now.

It tells her she’s imagining things, that she’s just looking for another way to be different. That Stevie will just think she’s trying to copy her, and worse than that, she’s copying her badly. It whispers that sure, Stevie liked her as a guy, thought she was attractive then, but she’s probably going to be so ugly as a girl that any attraction Stevie’s managed to muster for her weird lanky man-body is gonna just shrivel up and die. And she doesn’t even really like girly things, which she knows because she dressed up as Frank N Furter that one time they all went to see Rocky Horror, and the makeup had felt gross on her skin and the corset had been too tight and the heels had hurt- and if she’s not gonna commit to femininity what’s even the point of trying to tell people she’s a girl?

Eddie is so lost in her own head that it takes her a second to realise that Stevie has gotten out of bed. Eddie sits up, watching in confusion as her girlfriend flits around the room in search of her clothes.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks, her voice small. “Wh- what are you doing?”

Stevie sighs, shakes her head a little. “What does it look like I’m doing, Eddie?” Her voice sounds watery, and she won’t look Eddie in the eyes, using her voluminous hair as a shield as she pulls up her jeans with shaking hands.

Eddie’s heart breaks. She doesn’t think she ever expected this, that Stevie would just leave, even on her darkest nights alone. “But- why?”

Stevie finally looks at her then, her face incredulous even as it’s streaked with tears. “Why? Why would I stay, Eddie, if this- what, was it just- just bullshit?” she says, getting more heated as she speaks, hands flying in that way Eddie usually loves because it means her girl is really getting riled up. Now it feels terrible to see, like the final nail in Eddie’s coffin.

“I can’t believe- fuck- this is the second time I thought- I mean it’s gotta be me at this point, right? Like, fool me once-” Stevie cuts herself off with a sob, before scrubbing her face furiously and looking around the room. “Where the fuck is my jacket???”

“I don’t- what do you mean, second time-”

Stevie scoffs. “I mean, sure, you didn’t actually say the word ‘bullshit’ but that’s- you see how it’s the same right? Like, even if you didn’t- if you didn’t want me anymore, how could you-? You knew about Nancy, Eddie, and you still just-” She scrubs her face again and heads to the door. “You know what, fuck my jacket.”

And Eddie is not the smartest. Her three senior years can attest to this. But she can tell she’s missing something here, because what the hell does Nancy have to do with anything? So Eddie goes over the last couple of minutes, everything Stevie said, everything she said, and- oh. Fuck.

“I forgot the second part of that sentence.”

She literally cannot believe how stupid she is. Stevie’s already out the bedroom door, and Eddie prays to every god who’s never believed in her that she hasn’t left the trailer entirely, because fuck knows if she has Eddie will probably never see her again. At least not for several months, and even then, only with Robin standing off to the side trying to kill her with her mind.

“Stevie!” She calls, running through the trailer at a speed she frankly didn’t think herself capable of. “Stevie, please wait! I didn’t mean to- I forgot the rest of the sentence!”

Stevie stops at the door of the trailer, turns around with an eyebrow raised in the kind of ‘I’m waiting, make it good’ expression she uses whenever the kids try to explain why they were acting like little shits this time. It’s ruined a bit, by the tears still streaming down her face and the tremble in her disapproving frown, but she’s trying.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I was trying to say- I didn’t even realise how it sounded- I love you so much and I’m sorry I made you doubt that for even a second,” Eddie pleads, her own tears running down her face.

Something in Stevie’s posture seems to soften a little, but her hand stays on the doorknob. “What- what else would you be trying to say there, Eddie?”

“I-” Eddie can’t look at her, so she looks at her own feet. “I’m not your boy, I’m your- I don’t really know. Girl? Something? Uh. If you still want me to be.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Eddie doesn’t look away from her feet.

But then, strong, warm arms wrap around her. A hand gently pushes her head into a neck. A pair of lips press into the top of her head.

“Oh E- baby,” Stevie says, softly. “I love you so much, no matter what. Of course you can be my girl, if you want.”

Eddie nods into Stevie’s neck, holding her so tight she’d be a little worried about hurting her if she wasn’t well aware Stevie was way stronger than she’d ever be. “Yes please,” she says, voice small.

Stevie presses another kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, pulls back to hold her face gently in her hands. “Love you so much, baby. And it’s with love that I have to ask- what the hell is wrong with you.” Eddie snorts, and Stevie smiles like that’s what she was aiming for. “That was the worst coming-out I’ve ever seen. And I’m including the way I came out to Dustin.”

Eddie fully laughs then, and Stevie smiles too. That really had been awful. Dustin had found Stevie’s collection of feminine clothes and underwear and had taken it upon himself to lecture her on how weird it was to keep ‘souvenirs’, until eventually Stevie had been so mortified by the picture he was painting that she had to come out just to get him to shut up. He’d since made up for it by being her staunchest defender (Eddie and Robin notwithstanding), but the whole thing was still painful enough that whenever he was being annoying Stevie could now get him to shut up with just a particularly pointed look.

“I know, it was- I got all up in my head,” Eddie says. She places her hand over Stevie’s, gently turns her head to place an apologetic kiss on her wrist, right against her pulse point. “I really am sorry. I love you.”

“I know. Now, at least. Although I hope you realise I’m gonna be using this against you for like, the rest of our lives. Good luck trying to get me to turn off the ABBA, considering you very briefly broke my heart.”

Eddie groans, just like Stevie wanted her too, but honestly ‘the rest of our lives’ sounds pretty good to her.

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #t4t steddie #transfem eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fics

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spiriteddreams · 9 months

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I Know the End

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader Warnings: angst Word Count: ~2k A/N: season 2 is out who's ready to cry with me :D

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was all red. But it’s easy to be selfish when you are in love. You hold onto the concept like a lifeline and become strung alone in this clothesline of hearts. Your emotions are spread thin, clipped at the edges at the result of a strained relationship.

A love with Gojo Satoru was never one for the books. It was whispered words when no one was looking and lingering touches when you pass by one another. How many years have you played this cruel game with him? The memories bleed together as do the years and yet you hold on selfishly. To him, the world did not need to know of the way his crystal eyes lingered a second too long on your figure, or the way he swore upon empty promises to no one but you. He loves so easily, sly with his words and so eager to be around you. His touch is a brand, his words a blunt knife, driving in, digging deep, dismantling you bit by bit. But the worst comes when the overwhelming weight of it all feels heaviest whilst you are alone. If there’s one thing that becomes clear the longer you’re around him, it’s that Gojo Satoru is far too good at pushing people away. He’s so easy to get along with and you find yourself falling for him before you even realize it. But he keeps people at a distance. No matter how close you may be, physically and emotionally, it’s like you run into Infinity everytime.

And yet you glorify it in your head, pretend that sickly sweet words and phantom touches are real. You cling to the memories in the worst way possible, because everyone leaves you before Gojo does. And when he finally does, he does it so casually cruel that you think you feel his technique shoot through your chest and leave a gaping hole as you bleed. You tell yourself that you have parted on good terms, because in your head, it is easiest to remember the good rather than the bad.

You remember high school days, hand clasped around Shoko’s as you chased after two boys who wobbled on a bike together. The blissful ignorance of childhood is one that you wish you would have treasured longer. Because a mission gone wrong turned the course of fate and you could only watch as both Gojo and Geto stumbled down their separate paths. Only that Gojo’s led towards you and your open arms. The guilt for not reaching out far enough for Geto still eats at you and you wonder if perhaps Gojo holds that against you.

But when you recall the memories and bury yourself under sheets and stare at picture frames that collect dust and his text messages you’ve chosen to ignore, you are selective about your memories. Because the good is warm and comfortable and loving and oh so cruel. But the good is followed by the bad in a tidal wave that crashes upon the shore during high tide. It pulls you into the deep, that freezing painful deep that stings your skin and shocks you to your core. And then you are drowning in hurt, in tears, in unrelenting sadness as you mourn over a relationship held together by cobwebs.

But forever will you believe that Gojo Satoru is deserving of highest praise. His name carries across the stories of the legendary holder of the Six Eyes who, when he was born, shook the world. And he knows it. You relish the days when your friends, your family would tease you both. Words of appraisal cooing over the two of you even as Gojo looked away with a blush on his face and grumbled for everyone to “stop making a big deal out of nothing.” But even as he said those words, he didn’t pull away from your touch, instead leaning closer, as if chasing the brush of your fingertips against his skin.

Then it ends. It ends on a day you least expect it the most, when the sun is warm and caresses your face and you think that it is just another day of rest, basking in the sun. Despite that, the heavy feeling in your chest that had been building for the past few days has seemed to fester, ready to spill over. Something is near and you know it, can feel it and no matter how much you try to push away the growing anxiety, it sits heavy in your chest. You wonder if Gojo’s noticed. And as if he was reading your thoughts, he appears, calling your name with a tone that douses you in cold. Peeking through his sunglasses, his blue eyes look duller than usual.

“Are you okay?” you sit up, watching as Gojo looks down at you for a moment, then looks away. He is silent and you wish you could read what was going on in his head. Perhaps that’s always been one of the hardest things about loving someone who’s walls have been built up for so long that even when he allows you to peek through one crack, it becomes smoothed over in an instant, blocking you right back out.

He sighs, “I’m fine.” His words are far too clipped for comfort and you straighten up, staring up at him in confusion. You don’t prod him to speak, knowing that when he wants to, he will. Gojo likes to choose his words slowly, precise and careful with everything he says. He dislikes rushing into things, and gods knows how much he spends in his head mulling over his thoughts. It scares you, more than you’ll admit, to know that there are a million things that Gojo has, and will always, keep from you.

“I think we should end things.” The words take a moment to register, but when they do, you’re snapping your head up, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. “Before you argue about it, I’ve already thought it over,” Gojo says bluntly. He still refuses to look at you. “I don’t think beneficial for us to see each other.”

You stare at him in shock. “Beneficial? You act as if this is just a romance of convenience.” The cold seeps into your tone before you register it. But Gojo looks unfazed, as if he was prepared for this. It scares you. It’s just another one of those things he’s kept to himself. “Satoru, what’s going on?” He hates the way you say his name, so breathy and concerned. Sometimes he feels as if you can see right through him. He wonders if you’ve caught onto his own lies that have begun to wrap around his own throat.

“The distance between us has grown too far, I don’t think it’s fair for us to continue to pretend that we feel the same,” Gojo shakes his head. You push yourself to your feet, gathering your composure before fixing him with a glare, the same defiant glare that drew him in. He takes a shaky breath and reminds himself that this is necessary in the long run. You will be safer if you are farther away from him and this path that he’s chosen to follow. The sacrifices that are sure to come will put you both in a precarious position where you will have to choose between one another and the greater need of Jujutsu society. And if Gojo can make that decision before it tears you apart on the spot, it’s a risk he’s willing to take. The apologies can come later, he’ll grovel at your feet if he has to, put aside his ego and swear up and down that he’ll never deceive you like this again. But for now, please, he begs, please just let him do what he needs to do before someone else forces your hand.

“No,” you shake your head, eyes narrowed as you take a step towards him and jab a finger at his chest. Your eyes widen momentarily when you make contact with the hard plane of his clothed chest; he let down Infinity. “No, you don’t get to pull this on me. One week ago you were telling me how I was yours for the rest of your life and now you’re trying to break up with me? Cut the bullshit, Satoru.” He hears the tremble in your voice and he’s not sure who you’re trying to convince more: you or him.

“Look, I’ve been thinking—”

“Then stop thinking!” you shout. You sound irrational and you know it. The tears gathering in your eyes are a clear sign of it. “You’re making it sound like this is all some thought out, self-sacrificing, selfish plan and—” You both stare at one another. Gojo hates that you know him so well because you come to the right conclusion far too quickly and he knows that you’re not going to back down now.

“This is your plan isn’t it,” you say quietly, voice tinged with disbelief. Gojo was known for his plans, well thought out and well executed to success. So careful and thoughtful in the process and you’ve watched him time and time again commit to things without a second thought. So to hear that you’re part of this next selfish plan, placed in this position, ready to be swallowed up on his chessboard is a slap in the face. You can play dirty too and in this moment, with anger and disbelief clouding your thoughts and vision, you strike faster than him.

“Fine. You want to break up, then we break up. But we’re doing it on my terms,” your words are all bark and no bite but you refuse to let him see. You hold back the tears and push through your watery words as you step back.

“If you want to call it off, then it’s off for good. When all this shit is over I’m going back to Kyoto and I don’t ever want to see your stupid, pretty, face again!” you stumble over your words and Gojo only watches behind his glasses, mouth pressed into a thin line. You want to rip them off his face and force him to look you in the eyes and tell the truth. Far too cocky for his own good, you hate that Gojo Satoru is so effortlessly cruel and fuck does it make you angry. The words spill and you take low jabs, both verbally and physically and Gojo just takes it. He takes the watery calls of his name and the cursing, your gasps of breath and your own selfish cruelty that he knows damn well that you don’t mean.

By the time he disappears, you’re left with nothing but the crisp air of Autumn. Sharp and stinging in the back of your throat, you inhale sharply as you whip your head in the direction you know he’s gone in: your shared home. The worst part is that you had both kept things a secret, a little game where you both sat at other ends of a glass table and now that it's shattered, where do you turn to, who do you turn to?It is then that you finally realize that despite your own attempts to twist the game, you had fallen right in. Blinded by the sudden rush of anger and the overflow of anxiety from the past few days you had done exactly what he had wanted. A breakup is a breakup, whether or not it is on his terms or your terms. And you know that now the words have been said, it’ll be hell to try to find him and talk it back over.

If only he was still around to hear your cries of his name as you run towards him, bloodied and battered, voice hoarse as you frantically search for him in Shibuya. You catch wind of the words “prison realm” and your blood runs cold.

On October 31, Gojo Satoru feels his limbs stiffen and his mind races. You’re still out there, still fighting, still angry, still cursing his name with love disguised as hatred. You’re still out there but so long as you stay out there, stay alive then things are all going according to plan. And when he finds a way to escape, to destroy those cursed fingers once and for all, he’ll grovel at your feet and promise to love you to whatever end.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 Bonus: @shiinleaf and gojo kiss and make up and there was no official breakup and all is well

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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pwurrz · 1 year

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childe and zhongli are split up after encountering a dangerous situation, and after a few days zhongli begins to fear the worst.

he’s so anxious and distraught about the possibility that his beloved might be injured and alone, or heaven forbid…. that his mortal disguise starts to crack. by the time he’s finally reunited with childe, he’s barely holding it together, both mentally and physically.

mere seconds after zhongli sees that childe is ok, that he’s alive, he’s embracing him in an all but suffocating hug. he doesn’t even notice that his horns and tail have started to show, he doesn’t care, he’s so relieved.

nearly drowning in a tidal wave of emotions, zhongli vows to never leave childe’s side again. he solidifies this promise by wrapping his tail around childe’s middle and using it to hold him close. he’s not thinking straight, he just needs to know that his treasure is ok, that he’s safe, and the easiest way to calm his nerves is by letting his dragonic instincts take over and feel the solid warmth of childe wrapped in his tail’s embrace.

it’s the first time childe’s ever heard zhongli purr. it’s a shaky and quiet purr, but it’s there nonetheless. the feeling of relief zhongli feels once he’s confirmed his beloved is safe is so overwhelming he can’t help but make a soft noise of pure contentment and affection.

it’s also the first time childe had ever seen him cry. it breaks his heart, to see his strong and dependable lover so upset. he makes his own vow that day, to never be the reason for zhongli’s tears again.

#i wanted to write about dragon zhongli cuddling childe and i have eoos on my mind so here #this was supposed to be fluffier damn it #childe ♡#zhongli ♡#zhongchi #tartali #zhongchi fanfic #tartali fanfic #mouser muses

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sagethegaywitch · 4 months

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Our Child (Part II)

Yandere Mermaid Family x GN Reader

TW: yandere behavior, blood

Genre: yandere

(Part I), (Part III)

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Y/N’s Pov

It’s been a few days since you saved that merman, and the fact that you found and rescued a mythical creature only seemed to hit you when your adrenaline ran out. You paced the floors of your apartment after you returned that night, trying to figure out how it was possible for mermen to actually exist. Now you travel to the rocky tidal pool each sunset, hoping to catch a glimpse of the creature again. Ever since that day, you’ve felt eyes on you every time you are near the beach, sometimes even when you're at your beach-side apartment. You assure yourself it’s nothing, but you can’t shake how intense and threatening they feel.

One night, on your nightly stroll, you wander the sandy beach, a bit upset that your work prevented you from seeing the sunset. But you’re quickly excited when you hear splashing nearby. You run over to the tidal pool, but are surprised to see a different merman sitting on one of the rocks. Compared to the one you saved, he has longer dark green hair that drapes over his shoulders, and his tail is a slightly darker blue-green color, but he oddly reminds you of the other. He looks up when you approach, and you offer him a small wave to show you were friendly. The merman pauses and looks you up and down before cautiously crawling closer to you, and you freeze not wanting to scare him off. Now he’s only a feel inches from you and leans his face close to yours, sniffing around, trying to catch your scent. You remind yourself that he can probably smell fear as he gently pokes your cheeks and drags his webbed claws through your hair. You start to relax a bit, realizing he probably won’t hurt you, and you try to spark a conversation, assuming he spoke English.

“I’m Y/N, what’s your name?” you ask, keeping your voice soft and calm.

The merman looks at you, tilting his head in a questioning manner before pointing to you and opening his mouth.

“Y-Y/N,” he gurgles out, his voice sounding like it was underwater.

“Yes! I’m Y/N,” you cheer before pointing at him. “And you are?”

He looks at your finger pointing at him, connecting the dots in his head before responding, “A-Aalto.”

“Aalto?” you question, the name sounding foreign on your tongue.

“A-Aal-to,” he corrects.

“Alright, I’m just going to call you Al,” you conclude.

The merman lets out a series of chirps and clicks, and you hope that they’re happy sounds and that you didn’t piss him off. He nudges his cheek against yours before rubbing his neck all over your face, neck, and hair, as if marking his territory. You suddenly worry that you have just been marked by this strange merman, and if you were to see the one you rescued, he would be pretty upset at this turn of events. You’re brought back to reality when the merman starts trying to drag you towards the water. Thinking he just wants some help getting back to his home, you follow him to the cold ocean water. The moment he’s fully submerged and the water gets up to your knees, he grabs your ankle and attempts to pull you in with him. Panic seizes you as you assume the worst and he’s trying to drown you, so you reasonably kick at his face until you make contact. Momentarily surprised, he lets go and you quickly drag yourself out of the water, the ocean soaking into your clothing and making them heavy. You run all the way home, slamming your door closed and locking the door. You’re panting and shaking from the cold water, completely unaware of the eyes watching you.

Aalto’s Pov

“Damn it,” I groan, holding my bleeding nose as I swim back home. “Didn’t think they would put up a fight.”

I surface in the little air pocket part of our cave (they live in a water cave, but there is one room with an air pocket hole that leads to a small cave with a rocky floor, if that makes any sense), where we plan to keep our little human, and I’m welcomed by my father and brother.

“Welcome home, darling!” Kano exclaims before slowly realizing I was not carrying a human with me.

He deflated sadly, moping in the little nest of dried seaweed and scrap clothing that he worked hard on making for the human’s comfort. Malik began reassuring his child, patting Kano’s shoulder before looking at me for answers, as if my bloody nose wasn’t enough evidence.

“They kicked me in the face when I tried to bring them here, and I let them go,” I sigh, disappointed in myself.

“It’s alright, Aalto. We’ll try again soon,” Malik tells me, offering me an understanding smile and a piece of clothing for my nose.

I haul myself to sit on the edge of the pool, allowing my body to rest on the rock floor of our human’s room as I attempt to stop the bloody flow on my face. My mind keeps wandering to the moment they said my name, their mouth struggling to say it properly. I’m touched that they think we’re already siblings and gave me a nickname, and I’m totally going to rub it in Kano’s face later. But for now, we need to focus on gaining our darling’s trust again and getting them here safely before we can begin the transformation process.

#mermaid #merman #yandere #family #female reader #male reader #gn reader #Aalto my oc #Kano my oc #Malik my oc #ocs #male yanderes #xreader

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yeonjunarchives-posts · 2 years

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Forever Only

Pairing: exbf!Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Exes to lovers, Idol!jaehyun, idol!reader, angst, private relationship

Word Count: 848

Summary: We broke up a year ago, now why does he suddenly wanna talk? Is his possible new song about me?

Authors note: Hey guys! Jaehyun’s new song has me in a chokehold and I obviously wanted to write bout it so here you go. Also, this is my first work of writing and I honestly only gave a brief summary because the fic in general isn't that long and I didn’t wanna spoil it lol. sorry about that, but I hope you give my fic a chance:D (listen to forever only in the background)

Sometimes I don’t recognize him when I see him on television.

This time, I did. Another award show. Another win. The camera panned across the row of members.

His face flashed on the screen. It might as well have been lightning to see it up close. Picture perfect.

He is smiling. I am not. He can still smile, despite everything that happened between us. The confetti bursts from the ceiling, and he opens his mouth.

The sound of his voice is like an ocean, A tidal wave. The song is playing. I try to bite back my tears, but I can’t. It’s our song.

– “Can we talk?” was the message on the phone. Underneath the text bubble, it says thirty minutes ago. I had just settled on a response. “I’m not this stupid.” I turned it off before I had the chance to click send.

I fell back on my bed and let out a sigh. What was there to talk about? He wanted me gone. Now he wants me back.

I’ve heard it all before. To think that all of those months were just a ploy to get me to be his call girl. To think that none of it was genuine.

To think that he broke up with me over a fourteen-second call. Click. My life shattered in a single press of a button. But the worst of all, to think that I still love him. After all of that. Maybe I am stupid. Beep.

“I’m not joking around, I promise.” Beep. And another text. “I’m at your door.” Jeong Jaehyun, you asshole.

I still left him on read, but my patience was diminishing. A part of me wanted to run out the door and hug him. Beep. This time, he sent a voice memo. I bit my fingernails.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to hear him out? Just a little. It was a recording of him singing. He was singing the same song he sang at the award show–our song.

I could hear him smiling through the screen. I started to sing along to his voice, harmonizing and matching his rhythm. He started breathing heavily. He must be cold outside. Maybe I am stupid.

I ran to the front door and unlocked it. I saw his face, red and pale in the winter snow. He was exhaling puffs of frosty air.

He didn’t have security with him.

Did he really come all the way here to talk? Without his guards? Someone could have seen him! Someone could have. He must have heard the chains clank against the door because his eyes lit up.

“Y/N?” I heard him call from behind the door. My heart started to burn. Fuck. I didn’t know I missed him this much. I opened the door as quickly as I could. There he was, in the flesh. His cheeks were colored with blush and I could tell he was trying not to smile.

The voice memo of him singing was still playing from my phone’s speaker. He was wearing a beige coat over a green turtleneck. Picture perfect.

A smile was creeping up on his face. I had a stupid grin on mine.

“Can I come in?” I bit the inside of my lip. All of the memories were flooding back into my head. He had broken up with me. Nothing could make me forget that. Not even him being here. But the fire in my chest was rising and rising and rising.

I could feel it almost bursting out of my throat. I was this close to falling back into his world.

“Twenty minutes,” I say with finality.

“I’ll give you twenty minutes.”

– “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why insist on a private relationship? Am I something you’re ashamed of?” I was seething with rage. My fingers dug into my palms, turning my knuckles white.

He looked askance. He didn’t have an answer.

“No, I-”

“I am, aren’t I?” I could feel my face distorting,

“That’s why you were hiding me all that fucking time. That’s why you called it off. You’re just looking for someone to play with. And I get it. You’re an international star. Everyone loves you. You can have anything you fucking want!” Tears were falling out of my eyes.

But I didn’t care. I am stupid.

“Even me.” The room fell silent.

His wide eyes glimmered in the darkness. I continued,

“You can use me if you want. Just… ” I realized that he was crying.

“Why would I ever use you?” Water streaming down his eyes,

“I love you so much, Y/N. I did it all to protect you. People were sending me threats to kill you. If the public found out… I couldn’t do that to you.” He took my cheeks and cupped them in the palm of his hands.

“I’m not ashamed of you. How could I be, when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” He tilted his head and attempted a smile. I cried into his shoulder and later after hours of talking we cuddled and fell asleep

Authors note: if you have made it till the end of this fic I really appreciate it, make sure to like,comment and reblog as it motivates me to write more for you guys💗🫶🏻

Also sorry for the loose ending, if this fic isn't a flop then I'll definitely write a part 2

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

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Over The Odds | Regrets Pt.2

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - angst, smut, fluff, S2L, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook

Word count - 2.5k

Drabble 12 - Your day goes from bad to worse

warnings: swearing, heated argument,

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

Namjoon: Hey Y/N… Just got to the coffee place and there’s tonnes of paparazzi, do you want to come to my apartment instead? I’ll send the address now [received: 22 minutes ago]

Y/N: I’m outside [sent: 1 minute ago]

Namjoon: Doors open x [received: just now]

Namjoon’s new apartment feels far from new; the furniture, the smell, even the colour scheme is identical to the apartment he had when the two of you were in a relationship. You swallow thickly, somewhat nervous to be alone with him for the first time in years. His living space is small but homely, you make your way through the narrow corridor before eventually finding him in a bright yellow kitchen with oak wooden cabinets and the scent of coffee staining the air.

“Hey,” His dimples show when he turns to face you, a bright smile tugging his features, “Do you still have blonde coffee blend?”

“I do, I can’t believe you remember that.” You smile back, already regretting this decision. You’re going behind Jungkook’s back to have coffee with your ex-boyfriend who may or may not be seeing Jennie – Jungkook’s kind of ex. It’s a complicated situation to say the least.

“I made you a coffee every morning for six months, it’s hard to forget.” He chuckles mostly to himself.

There’s a small white two seater table in front of the window, a vase filled with freshly cut flowers stands in the middle. You take it upon yourself to sit there and take off your leather jacket, draping it over the back of the butter coloured chair. Joon’s clumsily preparing two drinks at the other end of the room, his big hands accidentally spilling the ingredients as he goes along – some things never change.

A dull vibration in your jeans causes you to jump, you quickly glance at the notification when a tidal wave of guilt comes crashing over you:

Jungkook: I can’t wait until tomorrow to see you, are you free tonight?

It’s like he purposely picked the worst moment possible to text, reminding you what you’re doing right now. He’s at the office stressing about work and the police investigation while you’re having a casual coffee date with the one person in the world you know he has a problem with. You’re frowning lightly, lips pursed into a flat line as you type a quick reply, since Namjoon’s too busy cleaning up after himself to notice.

Y/N: What do you have in mind?

Jungkook: Dinner at my place? I’ll even cook for you

A blissful yet amused sigh escapes you at the idea of Jungkook wearing an apron and preparing a meal from scratch, he’s usually more of a ‘let’s go to a five star restaurant tonight’ or even a ‘why don’t we take the jet to Italy today and have a real Italian?’ kind of guy. Can he even cook? You think to yourself, locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket after sending another fast reply.

Y/N: If I say yes you have to promise you won’t kill me with food poisoning

“…Alright, blonde coffee blend with almond milk and one sweetener.” Namjoon says proudly, placing a large purple mug down in front of you.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little nervous to be alone in his company.

It seems as though you didn’t get the memo – you’re wearing blue ripped jeans, a copped white Motley Crúe shirt and white converse with sunglasses atop of your head, feeling somewhat underdressed compared to your ex who’s sitting opposite you sporting a baby blue dress shirt and black slacks, sipping at his coffee that’s definitely not cooled down enough yet.

“So,” He’s the first to speak, fingertips rhythmically tapping his mug, “How have you been? Aside from the obvious.”

“I’m okay actually, all things considered.” You give him eye contact and a small smile, unable to rid your stomach of the guilt trying to gnaw its way out, “How about you?”

“I’m okay.” He nods, his gaze flickering from your face to the window, zoning in on the traffic below, “I’m glad you came, I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me after what happened when I saw you at the club.”

“Well we’re just friends, right?” You don’t know who you’re trying to convince, you feel selfish for even being here when you know he still has feelings for you, an apologetic smile tugs the corners of your mouth, “Friends can have coffee together, it’s no big deal.”

At this he visibly stiffens with pinched brows, erasing any trace of emotion he once showed as he chooses to look you in the eye, “We’re a lot of things Y/N… But we’ll never be just friends.”

This was a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. Not only are you keeping this meeting from your present boyfriend, you’re toying with your past boyfriend’s heart strings. Shame and sadness hits you like a tonne of bricks, so what if Namjoon knows Jennie and didn’t tell you? This isn’t fair on anybody, not Namjoon, not Jungkook, and not you. You exhale, mustering up the courage to set boundaries with him even though you’re the one sitting in his kitchen.

“Joon…” You swallow, “You know that I’m with Jungkook now, you and I… We-, You’ll always be important to me and I’ll always be here for you if you need me… But only as a friend.”

“And he’s okay with that? Jungkook’s fine with you and I being friends?”

“Well he might not be fine with it but it’s kinda understandable… Put yourself in his shoes.”

Namjoon’s shaking his head, his face contorted with a cocktail of jealousy and regret, “I’d love to be in his shoes, to have all that power. He’s got the nice clothes, the penthouse apartment, expensive cars… And most importantly he has you.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you take a sip of your coffee, struggling to find the right thing to say, “I’m not one of his possessions Joon, I chose to be with him.”

“Chose?” He scoffs, obviously irritated, “You were coerced, he bribed you with money.”

“Wha-, Excuse me?”

“That was the deal right? Sex for money?” He’s getting louder, “Do you really think someone like that cares about you?” While his words manage to cut you deep, you defend Jungkook, he’s a good man and shouldn’t be spoken about this way.

“You’re way out of line Namjoon,” You warn him with a steady voice, “Jungkook and I are in a relationship, I’m not going to sit here and let you talk about him like that. He’s done nothing wrong.”

“I was suspicious of your ‘relationship’ with him from the get go,” He mimics air quotes, “He’s not exactly a respectable man. He’s nothing more than an adult fuck boy, and when I saw the video and the conversation—”

“You watched the video?” Your tone is low, your heart dragging down into the depths of your stomach, it’s one thing for a total stranger whom you’ve never met to watch the tape but for your ex-boyfriend to watch it? That’s a whole other level of disrespect.

“I mean it’s nothing I haven’t seen before Y/N.”

There’s no emotion in his eyes, not even a spec of guilt or shame at his behaviour – this isn’t the Namjoon you once knew and loved, this is somebody else. You’re equal parts disappointed and outraged by how he’s acting, he’s staring at you expectantly as though the conversation hadn’t just taken a turn for the worse not even five minutes after you arrived. He sees no issue with watching the video, and evidently he sees no issue with berating you about Jungkook either.

“This was a mistake,” You fumble with your jacket, trying to get it on as quickly as possible, “I didn’t come here for you to make me feel like shit.”

“I never want you to feel like shit, I still love you, you know that.” For a split second you see a glimpse of the old Namjoon, his cute dimples piercing his cheeks as he talks, “I want to give us another chance, you’re so much better than him and you need to see Jungkook for who he really is instead the lies he’s told you.”

At this you laugh humourlessly, finally snapping, “You wanna talk about lies? Okay.” Your voice is raised, “Why are you so adamant my relationship isn’t real? Hm? You must’ve got the idea from someone, right? I know that you know Jennie, and I know that you were both outside my old apartment yesterday. You wanna talk about lies? Tell me why you denied it when I asked.”

It’s not clear where you got your hypothetical balls from, there was a time you would’ve never spoken to him like this – and a time where he respected your privacy, but as that’s no longer the case you’re done taking shit from people who clearly don’t give a shit about you. And so you finally grow a pair of balls and bite back, huge, venomous balls, that Joon’s currently choking on as he struggles to find any words.

“Jungkook isn’t a good person, one way or another he’s going to break your heart. He’s already publicly humiliated you.” Is what he settles for, staring at you with dark eyes as he completely ignores your outburst.

“Is that what Jennie says?” You’re not going to let this go, you need answers.

“It is, and I believe her.”

“So you do know her?” The back and forth between you is gradually getting more heated and emotional.

“I do.”

“How?”

“She’s my-,” He clicks his tongue, he looks annoyed, “We’re seeing each other.”

“You’re seeing someone yet you invited me over and just told me that you still love me?” You’re shaking your head, standing from the table as you finally get both arms into your jacket. “What a gentleman.”

“You’re with Jungkook and you agreed to come here, presumably behind his back no less. At least Jennie knows that you’re here.” His tone oozes jealousy at the mere mention of your boyfriend, he stands too, his tall frame towering over you.

Ouch, that stings a little harder than it should, “This was a mistake,” Your hearts beating so fast, your stomach churning with regrets, “But I guess you were right about one thing… You and I? We can never be friends.” You spit, not bothering to look back at him as you storm out of his apartment.

It’s when you make it outside that you’re caught by dozens of cameramen leaving the building. One of them shouts something that sounds something similar to ‘Does the new boyfriend know of yours and Jungkook’s video?’ You ignore him, pushing your way through the crows of flashing lights with nothing but adrenaline and anger in your stride. Fuck. How on earth are you going to explain this to Jungkook? Stone cold regret stiffens your joints as you try to escape the paparazzi.

A small white car pulls up beside you, blocking you from crossing the street which only pisses you off even more. Your eyes focus on the driver, your stomach flipping anxiously as you realise who it is.

“Get in.” She says quickly, opening the passenger door.

With a large amount of hesitation, you oblige, slipping into the vehicle before she speeds off down the busy streets of London. Strange isn’t the word, bizarre isn’t the word, coincidence isn’t the word. You’re confused, clicking in your seatbelt before finally glancing in her direction. She’s as gorgeous as ever, her thick hair is shorter than it used to be but other than that your sister still looks the same.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome.” Ruth mumbles, lighting a cigarette. “Lucky I saw you when I did, otherwise you’d still be back there getting harassed by cameramen.”

“Right… Thanks.” You exhale, you’ve been in her company less than a minute and of course she’s already found a way to make herself out to be some kind of hero, “Why are you even in London?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Her thin brows are furrowed as she drives round a corner, not even looking your way once, “I got a new job, I moved back in with mum and dad yesterday.”

“Oh.” You’ve been so consumed with your own life that you haven’t bothered to check the family Whatsapp group chat recently, not that she ever usually puts anything in there. In an attempt to fill the awkward silence you ask, “So how have you been?”

“Better than you’re doing, clearly.” She scoffs. She knows. Of course she knows. She takes a long drag from her cigarette, blowing smoke out of the open window, “So when do I get to meet him?”

“Who?” You know full-well who’s she’s talking about, but you ask anyway to give yourself another few seconds to think of a response that isn’t piss off Ruth.

“You’re a little too old to play dumb don’t you think?”

“Oh I’m fine by the way,” You nod slowly and sarcastically, making a ‘tsk’ sound with your teeth, “Thanks for asking.”

Fine doesn’t even begin to cut it. There’s the video and it’s repercussions to deal with, including getting to the bottom of who leaked it in the first place. Then there’s Namjoon nagging in your ear about how much of a bad person Jungkook is because that’s what he’s heard from the ever so reliable source Jennie. Then there’s the fact Jungkook’s gonna find out that you had coffee with Namjoon, you know he’s not going to be happy about it to say the least. And now, Ruth’s back in London - still as bitchy and tactless as ever. It feels as though your head is going to implode, you’re so done with everyone’s shit recently. Including your own.

“Why don’t you invite him to dinner tomorrow? Dad’s doing a barbeque.” Of course she ignores your pettiness, she’s an expert at that, “Plus now I’m there he might overlook the whole sex tape thing, he’s been so happy to see me.”

“Oh I bet.” You say between clenched teeth, she’s fucking unbelievable. “But no can do, I already have plans this weekend.”

“Tonight then.”

“I’m busy.”

“Too busy for your big sister?” She pouts, faking offence as she pulls into your parents’ street, “Come on I need to meet him as soon as possible, mum seems to think highly of him, even after everything that’s happened. She prefers him to Namjoon which is saying something considering he’s a doctor.”

“Why are you pushing this so hard?” You may be smiling but you’re not amused, you’re in disbelief that this is even happening to you right now. For a split second you consider latching onto the steering wheel and crashing her car, just so she’ll shut up.

“I wanna meet my new boss.” She shrugs nonchalantly, as though she hasn’t just dropped the bombshell of the century, “I start at Jeon Industries on Monday.”

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starreadssstuff · 11 months

Text

loosing everything- Nanami Kento

warnings- break ups, cheating, crying, Nanami being a bitch and regretting it. I love him but in this? kinda hate him. as always LMK

Authors note: ALL I WANTED WAS YOUUUUUUU. I love him so much but I accidentally kinda made myself hate him. It's fine tho now I can go watch more edits of him and maybe write a happy fic! enjoy the fic love, star 💜

You had been dating Nanami Kento for almost two years, and everything was perfect. You both loved each other deeply, and he made you feel like the most important person in the world.

But things started to change when Nanami became more distant. He would cancel plans at the last minute, and he stopped calling and texting you as often. When you tried to talk to him about it, he would brush it off and say that he was just busy with work.

One day, you decided to surprise him at his apartment, hoping to spend some time together. When you arrived, you found him sitting on the couch with another woman, laughing and chatting as if you didn't exist.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Nanami was your world, and he had betrayed you in the worst possible way. Tears streamed down your face as you ran out of the apartment, not looking back.

Days turned into weeks, and you tried to move on. You threw yourself into your work, spent time with friends, and tried to forget about Nanami. But every time you saw something that reminded you of him, the pain came back like a tidal wave.

One night, you were walking home from a long day at work when you heard someone calling your name. It was Nanami, standing on the sidewalk with a desperate look on his face.

"Please, just hear me out," he pleaded. "I know I messed up, but I love you so much. I can't live without you."

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to forgive him and go back to the way things were before. But you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and heartbreak.

"I can't do this, Nanami," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I trusted you, and you broke my heart."

Nanami looked like he was about to say something else, but he stopped himself and nodded.

"I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for everything."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.

The pain of losing Nanami never really went away. Even though you knew it was the right decision to walk away, you couldn't help but wonder what could have been. The memories of your time together haunted you, and you wondered if you would ever be able to love again.

#nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento angst #jujutsu nanami #nanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #i love jjk #jjk nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x u #jujutsu kaisen fic

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rainobrienn · 2 years

Text

Love Letters - Rafe Cameron <3

Warnings: slight embarrassment, cheesiness

Word count: 2.9k

Synopsis: Rafe finds a love letter at his door, little does he know who it’s from.

Parings: college!soft!rafe x shy!dork!reader

You thought it was cheesy, honestly. But it was the only way you truly could feel free from the pain that love portrayed. As you wrote the poetic words on the thin sheet of paper, explaining how to felt about the hockey player Rafe Cameron.

You felt the brick on your shoulder become lighter, you’ve been in love with him ever since you started University. Which was two years ago, and only a few months ago did you start writing these letters, encouraged by your best friend Lily, (and also by your therapist).

You never actually sent them, or hid them in his lockers. Until the other day you found one missing.

“I cant find it anyways Lily!” You exclaimed, freaking out. Thinking about the worst possible outcomes of this situation, what if someone broke into your dorm and found it? What if they sent it? What if a gust of wind blew it out the window!

“Lily why aren’t you helping me?!” You asked in a panicked breath, “I- because, it’s fun watching you squirm around,” she said with a small laugh, but you could tell she’s lying. Like a a lot of people, she looks away when she lies, and that’s what she was doing right then and there. “Lilly,” you questioned her, stepping closer, getting suspicious. You knew she would never send one out, or you hoped.

“Ok fine! I sent one,” she breaks, dropping her arms to her sides. “But, you need to tell him Y/n, you’ve got one year left with him!” She says to you, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkkk!!!

“Lilly why would you ever think that my PRIVATE love letters about him would help me even get close to getting with him?” You half yelled, “It would probably make him scared of me!” You said, anger, fear and anxiety washing over you like a fucking tidal wave.

“I’m sorry, it was stupid, so stupid, I know but, you’ll thank me when I’m your maid of on and yours and his wedding!” She said with a small laugh, you gave her a death look that made her smile drop and apologise immediately. You sat down on the edge of your bed, head in hands, trying to think of good and peaceful thought.

Then a wash of release entered you, remember you never signed them. Not once did you ever write your name on them, everything else, yes but never your name, only your first initial could identify you, and there were tons of girls (and guys) at this school with your initial as a first name, and last.

Oh and of course your hand writing could, and yeah maybe your hand writing was a bit more extravagant than the other kids. But nobody is going to be paying attention to your hand writing, you hoped they wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Lilly said for the thousands time, “it’s fine,” you said with a smile, that was calm but angry. “what?” She asked, her expression changing. “I never signed my name on any of them,” you said, “What?” She asked shocked and kinda of angry?

“No!” She cried out, her plan had failed. “You weren’t sorry!” You said, “of course I wasn’t, your in love with him and yes imma try and get you two together!” She said storming out of the room, leaving you laughing at her failed attempt of embarrassing you.

The next day you walk to your class, as your crossing campus you spot your love, Rafe. You look at him as you walk past, knowing the only time he ever notices you is maybe once a month which is a small smile and wave. Maybe todays the day?

But no, you feel a little disappointed. Then you realise he’s looking down, down at. YOUR LETTER. “Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, staring at him for a moment, before realising your actually staring and you run off. All you could see was Rafe, looking down at the letter, his eyes tracing over the words.

You jump into your seat in class and slam your head down; bringing small attention towards you but not to much. “You okay y/n?” Your friend Harry asks from aside you, “yeah,” you weakling say with a nod, your head still into your arms and facing down. And then you heard the familiar laugh, Rafe’s laugh, come down the hallway. Fuck, it’s a Tuesday, you have double English with him.

“Sorry I’m late Miss,” he says with a small smile at the teacher, “Yeah he got a love letter,” one of his friends say from behind him, “A love letter?” Miss Barry asks a bit surprised but with a smile on, “From who?” She questions, “Anonymous, they didn’t sign, got neat handwriting though,” he says thinking back to it, you blush harshly at the tiniest compliment from him.

“May I see?” She asks, she was definitely one of the more gossipy teachers here. She walked up to him and he handed it to her, she read through it. And of course as your English teacher, she noticed the hand writing immediately. Luckily you were on her really good side, and one of her favourite students, so she just folded it up and gave it back to him, returning to the front of the class.

As soon as the bell rang you wanted to rush out of there, your hand slightly cramped from the fact you were trying to change your hand writing. “Miss Y/l/n,” you heard, god why was her voice twice as annoying now.

“May you stay for a moment,” she asks with a small smirk on her face, everyone leaves and it’s now just you and her in a completely empty classroom. Tension is creeping up the back of your neck.

“So, Mr Cameron huh? Been trying to figure out who these love stories have been about,” she says with a smile, “What?” You questioned, cheeks as red as a cherry, trying to play dumb. “Don’t do that dumb act with me, we both know nobody has hand writing like you in this class, let alone this school,” she says with a small laugh, “Why do you care?” You ask a few moments later, “Like I said, I was always curious about who these love stories were about,” she says with a smile.

You blush more than you could have ever blushed, “Bye Miss,” you say totally embarrassed, and practically running of the class straight to your door room, freaking out. You flipped on the bed, screaming into your pillow at how embarrassed you felt. You wanted to cry, but couldn’t at the same time.

“You okay?” Lilly walked in knocking on the door, “fine,” you say, knowing she can tell your lying. “Did he speak to you today?” Lilly asks you, you shake your head, “you have a class with him tomorrow right?” She asks, “I have a class with him Thursday, English again,” you say, dreading for the day to come along.

And of course, that day came faster than any other day. You prayed, and prayed Rafe would just happen to be sick that day, because what if he found out it was you? And, oh you don’t even want to think about it.

As soon as you walked into your English class, you saw the desks in different places. Two desks formed into one, rows of it, which means two people in one desk. And, as you walked along, you saw numbers, “Morning everyone,” Miss Barry greeted, as students came in, looking confused.

“As you can see, seats have changed,” she said with a smug smile, looking at you mainly. “And as you can see on the board, each of you have assigned seats,” she said, very proud of herself. You looked to the board, and your heart dropped straight down to the ground, she was evil, of course she paired you with him, Rafe.

“Also happens to be your partner for your next assignment,” she said, a wink going your way. As you blindly stated at her, “you can take your seat now Y/l/n,” she said, a smirk across her face. You slowly stepped up to desk ‘8’, right near the back and sat down. Rafe still hasn’t arrived, so you prayed he was sick.

But of course, as always. His laugh came down the halls, and he walked in. He looked to the desks, and then to the board, “What?” He asked, Miss told him and he seemed so chill with it, yet hesitant, not because of you. But because of the fact he wasn’t with his friends.

“Hey y/n,” he said with a smile, sitting down next to you. Your heart skipping a beat, he knows my name, of course he knows my name you thought. “hi,” you say weakly looking at him, he was so gorgeous. You felt your heart rate go up every second.

As the lesson went on, and she explained the assignment. You tried your hardest, your absolute hardest to not even move and just focus on the words coming out of your teachers mouth, despising her at the same time as loving her. Because all you could smell was him, you could hear his breath sometimes, and his laughs at silly comments. It was mesmerising to be this close to him.

“Any volunteers to come up?” Miss asks, holding out the whiteboard pen, asking for someone to write Shakespeare most famous poem, nobody raised there arm. Of course no one raised there arm, “Y/n, you know it don’t you?” She asks, turning the attention to you. Did she hate you that much?

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “May you enlighten the class,” she asks holding out the pen, god. You shakily stood up and walked up, totally forgetting to cover up your true hand writing. And writing down ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.’

“Do I have to write the whole thing?” You asks, miss shook her head and told you that was enough. You turn around almost running back to your desk, little did you know. Rafe was putting piece by piece together.

“Hey y/n,” Rafe calls out, you stop immediately, scared to turn around, but doing it anyways. He was so close, standing right in front of you, about to speak to you. “Yeah?” You ask quietly but loud enough for him to hear, “I- the project, uhh do you wanna start tonight or? Are you more of a last minute person?” He asks scratching the back of his neck, “I- uh,” you stutter, “Tonight’s good,” You say, nodding frantically.

“Dorm 204 by the way,” he says, letting you know his dorm. But of course you already knew it, you nodded softly, and walked off. Screaming internally.

“Lilly!” You scream, barging into her room. “Rafe, project partner, English, study tonight,” you say out of breath, because you ran to her room. “What?” She says with a large smile, “Fuck,” you curse realising you have to interact with him, “What?” She asks more concerned now, “I’ve never had a conversation with him Lils,” you say, “I said like, three words to him before!” You say practically crying.

“Just, you don’t even have to talk, just focus on the project, and maybe confess,” she says, “Lilly!” You throw a pillow at her, “What are you gonna wear?” She asks, Lilly being a fashion major and kinda a freak at it.

“Just, I don’t know, a sweater and jeans?” You offer, “it’s a billion degrees outside Y/n/n,” she states, “a shirt and shorts?” You ask, “A tank crop top and shorts,” she smiles and offers you, “Your funny, a tank top and jeans,” you then say, “Cropped tank top and leggings, final outfit!” She says, you knew you weren’t going to get out of it, your talking to a Law and fashion major student right now.

Now in a cropped shirt and leggings, you immediately felt out of your comfort zone. You wanted to cover up with a jacket, but Lilly refused; and she was right, you would sweat right through it and stink. And god how embarrassing that would be.

You spray yourself with deodorant, not wanting to try. You didn’t look like you were trying at all though, but you felt like you were trying to hard. You grabbed your bag, and books and slowly and anxiously, made your way to his dorm room.

As soon as you stepped in-front of the door, you felt so much anxiety, and fear wash over you. You wanted to run, away, far away. But yet, you forced yourself to knock, maybe a little to fast, and because well, your you. You overthought about knocking to fast for the next couple of seconds you stood there.

And then you heard the door open, and you see Rafe. Hair wet from the showers, blue shirt with shorts on. “Hey,” he said with a small smile, opening the door to let you in. You smiled at him yet looked straight down and walked into his room, dying from how much it smelt like him.

“So, obviously you know the most about Shakespeare out of everyone, so I think I got lucky with my partner,” he said with a smile sitting down in his desk chair, holding his hand out pointing to the bed, where you then sat. “Yeah,” you nod, “So what we’re you thinking of doing?” He asks, no. Fucking. Idea “uhh, maybe one of his comedies, like Tempest,” you said, shyly but slightly more confident. Talking about something you loved so much definitely made you feel safer.

“I was thinking more romance, like Hamlet, because well, I watched it last year for English and it’s the only one besides Romeo and Juliet I know,” he said with a small laugh, “Unless you wanna do Tempest,” he says, “No, we can d Hamlet,” you said with a smile, “but, a lot of people might be doing it,” you stated, “As long as I get an A, I don’t mind,“ he said with a smile, “You’ll get an A with me,” you said, causing him to laugh a bit. Which made your stomach flu out of the universe.

For a few minutes you purely focused on finding sources for him to look at, but at some point your vision was focused on something else. You saw something that made your heart feel Ill, your love letter, placed a top of his books on his desk.

“You okay?” Rafe asks, noticed you zoned out. “Fine,” you say looking to him, melting as soon as you see his features. “Ok, we’ll I found this website, Shakespearevandom.com,” he said, “Can you write it down for me, my laptop is so fucked I cant save anything on here,” he laugh, you nodded with a smile and ripped out a piece of paper from you book, looking at the spelling and writing it down.

As soon as you gave it to him, he looked at the hand writing. And you immediately knew, you knew what he was trying to figure out. And you became absolutely terrified. “Hey, I should really start goin-,” you were cut off by him speaking, “Your the anonymous girl huh?” He asks looking at your handwriting, play dumb, play dumb, play dumb y/n. “Sorry?” You question, he picks up the letter from atop the books, and placed it so you can definitely see it, he watches the way your cheek glow.

“I- no,” you try to deny, he smiles at how you try to come up with something. “Your cute when you panicking,” he states, you stop immediately, okay you were definitely redder than a tomato right now. “I- what?” You ask confused, “Can I ask you something?” He asks, how was he so confident oh my lord.

You softly nod, “su-sure I mean, yeah go ahead,” you smile to try and cover your awkwardness, “Go on a date with me?” He asks, and you felt your world go sick, like you felt as if you were going to puke. “Maybe Lexi’s Cafe, or we could go to the beach if that’s more your liking?” He smiles at you.

“Me? Am I dreaming?” You start to think, pinching yourself. “No,” he laughs a little, “And yes, you y/n,” he says your name, making you feel numb. “I- I’m free Saturday,” slipped out, but you weren’t and about it, slightly embarrassed about how fast it came out, “Here, I’ll text you,” he smiles handing you a number, you take it and put it in your bag, “Ok,” you say awkwardly, he stands up from his chair and stands in-front of you, “I don’t wanna wait until Saturday, so, I’m just going to ask now,” he says, you furrow your eyebrows confused, but not being able to say anything.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, hope in his eyes. Lust in his eyes, “Really?” You ask shocked, he nods with a small laugh, you were shocked but you didn’t waste another second before you kissed him, feeling every brick in your shoulder lift off into the sky, every boulder was gone, and every stone was demolished. Guess Lilly was right, she is going to be the bridesmaid at you guy’s wedding.

#rafe cameron #fanfic #fluff #cute fluff #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #fem!reader #outer banks #obx fic #rafe fluff #rafe x y/n #rafe obx #y/n #so cute

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faebriel · 8 months

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Ur rainduo hunger games au is just chef’s kiss. It’s so good!!!

Like niki and wilbur being friends and then wilbur disappears and she thinks he’s dead but he’s not?? And then she’s like I need to win I need to get him out of here. She’s like I am so angry but I can not show it. Like????? And her burning the forest down really suits her (I’m thinking of her burning down l’mantree) and then she hates fire but her branding is now fire +girlboss and she’s just like noooo no thank u. I’ve seen enough fire in my lifetime.

And wilbur is like a shaken up soda bottle. The lid is on tight but that does not mean that the liquid is calm. All u need is to take the lid off and it will explode everywhere. Yeah.

Anyways i love this au it is so cool!!!!

YEAH niki is such a straightforward character and she doesn't suffer the timewasting and arrogance of politics compared to so many other characters and so when her name gets pulled, she knows her odds of making it are just too low and she can't be bothered bullshitting that. she's not going to get up there and prance around for the cameras and pretend that everything is okay. it's not okay. she's not even a good liar in the first place. she has her parents presumably back home and a few friends in 12 so there's not much she can do, but there's a certain point where she just can't bring herself to participate. and then she finds wilbur, and the entire situation flips.

he is depending on her!! niki made peace with the idea of her own death as soon as her name was called at the reaping but this is an entire tidal wave of emotions that she already cannot compute. like the worst kind of grief and anger and survivors guilt. and if she loses, no one will rescue him. no one will even know he's there. and then that too, that's gonna be her fault. and even then, she gets these flashes of absolute rage...

she's so fucking lucky she has jack as a mentor to remind her of exactly the right way to smile so they can't see how tightly you clench your jaw. hbomb giving her these intricate hand braces so she can't visibly clench her fists when she talks so sweetly about winning the games and going home to her friends and making her district proud. and then she gets back to the tribute living spaces and tears her room apart in a whirlwind of burning anger, and then stays up late putting every stupid knick knack back together in case rumours spread because she needs to keep her reputation as the Sweet, Kind, Nicey Nice Girl from district 12 intact to win over sponsors.

and yea the forest fire is fucking traumatising. i can't remember if this is a canon hunger games thing or if my brain saw some fanon eight years ago and is running with it but i imagine once you win the games they slap all that megahealing shit into you so she wakes up in some private capitol hospital room and, beyond what she even thought was possible, the burns are gone. and she doesn't even know how that works but they must have done a pretty shit job because she can still fucking feel the fire beneath her skin.

you won and you got out! she gets wilbur out. maybe. but it's only really after the games that she realises she's never gonna be able to go home again. she should feel relieved to be alive at least, but all she feels is burning and a miserable, endless pit in her chest instead.

A SHAKEN UP SODA BOTTLE..... you're so fucking right KSHKDHDKD. wilbur is v interesting to me because like.... i think there's a bitter and hurting part of him that still blames himself above anyone else for getting caught. but he's been here for seven years. he has seen some horrible shit happen. wilbur has a tendency for self-hatred but he's not massively easily manipulated until someone is pushing him towards something he already wanted (thinking of how dream treated him in pogtopia.)

i think niki being reaped is a tipping point for him. like, he's not stupid. he's walked into the last seven years of reapings going not niki, and then not niki, not fundy, and then not niki not fundy please god not tommy and so on. and then the worst outcome happens, and niki barely manages to survive but only by swallowing her own voice and going through some terrible shit. wilbur saw that, he got to see it on live TV while pouring wine and retrieving stupidly rich food for stupidly rich people while he remembers arguing with tommy about whether they could eat a possum because at the time, that was their best option. it is one thing for him to be here. he has accepted that as his own fault (even if he probably shouldn't). but shoving niki through the meatgrinder? his kind, clever niki, who (in wilbur's eyes) has done nothing wrong in her entire fucking life? something needs to change, and he will bend steel with his bare fucking hands to make it happen.

now, to figure out how to do all that and actually stay alive.

the thing with wilbur that always stands out to me is that he's a character in motion. he doesn't stop. i think after being captured and having his tongue cut out and being tortured, he would obviously suffer greatly - but he wouldn't stop. his voice meant everything to him, and even though it's physically gone, part of him so venerates its absence that he cannot stop himself from trying to sustain it, to "bring it back", even if it sounds different now. even if it's all locked away in his mind. now, that is where he keeps everything he wants to say. he keeps his mind sharp over those years - reciting the names and birthdays of his friends in 12 so he doesn't forget them, tracing words across the wall when he's supposed to be sleeping so his handwriting stays neat enough to read. he's waiting, he just doesn't know for what.

and then niki is reaped. that's what.

#i kind of see nikis attitude towards the games (to start with) as somewhere between peeta in 1 and johanna in 2 #she has too many people she cares about to be as blisteringly angry as johanna but she's a bad fucking liar #she doesn't want the games to change her. and to be fair they don't change her in the way she expects #she doesn't want to have her personality swallowed up by the capitol because that is how she and her friends have always seen the victors #but after winning she realises oh. it really all is just tv cameras and hot air.#everyone from jack to the hardest career is fucking traumatised #and wilbur is. SO HEAVILY REPRESSING HIS FEELINGS to stay alive because there is no room for error #but silently he's fuming. they took a fucking lot from him but they couldn't take the belief that there's something better than this #if anything they hammered it in #OUGH. they're very. yeah #thanks the the ask mye !!! how ya doing #asks #hunger games au #aunonnies

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marjansmarwani · 2 years

Text

bring your fears to life

5.9k || ao3

A series of unfortunate events and an accident: that's what might make Owen's worst fears a reality. That's what might finally take his son from him.

Carlos just wants to know why: why the universe keeps trying to throw these curves at them. Especially after everything; especially now that they were finally standing on steady ground. He wants to believe that what they have is stronger than anything, but it's hard to hold onto hope when the person you love the most is being taken from you—again.

Or, 3x14 if things hadn't gone as well as they did. --- "going into shock" for @badthingshappenbingo

Don’t look now, but I think I finally finished something.

All the love to @moviegeek03, @justaswampdemon, and @terramous for sticking with me through what was possibly one of the most arduous writing processes I have ever experienced.

------

The sound of gunshots cut through the chaos of the accident scene with all the force of a tidal wave.

There was a collective second of fear before everyone sprung into action. There were voices yelling everywhere even as Owen picked himself off the ground and stepped aside so Officer Mitchell could take Al into custody. He was still staring at the scene before him in bewilderment when he heard Tommy’s voice cutting through the crowd, calling out to her team.

Who had been in the ambulance with the patient.

His blood ran cold as he made the connection and a moment later he was at the back of the ambulance with the rest of his crew, looking into the back of the rig anxiously. The man on the gurney was dead, there was no denying it. His blood splattered the inside of the ambulance, forming a gruesome mosaic, and he was still: chest frozen and eyes staring unseeing.

As terrible as it was, his fate wasn’t the one that had had Owen holding his breath. His eyes sought their paramedics, and he let out a breath as he spotted Nancy rising from where she had been crouched in the corner, shaking but seemingly unharmed. A firm hand nudged him out of the way and he turned in time to see Tommy climbing into the back at the rig, not even glancing at the corpse beside them as she reached out to Nancy, forcing her to sit on the bench along the side as she examined her.

Gentle hands moved across her body and Owen could hear her soft and gentle words from where he stood just outside the rig.

“You’re okay, Nancy,” Tommy assured her softly as she looked her over, “I’ve got you.”

She didn’t look harmed at all, thankfully. But she was clearly shaken and Owen couldn’t say he blamed her. Just hearing the shots had sent him back to a night just a few years ago, and he hadn’t even been the one standing beside the person who had been shot—this time.

Speaking of which, where was TK? It wasn’t like his son to not immediately be by his partner’s side, making sure she was okay.

[continue reading on ao3]

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #my writing #bhtb #hurt/comfort #userkimmy #userbones #tuserpaige #tusersilence #tusersonia #userthai #jazzyjess #actuallysara #usernicolo

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 2 years

Text

A while ago, I read a oneshot written by the absolutely incredible @engie-ivy titled Always Meant To Come Back (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618893)

They are genuinely one of my favourite wolfstar writers (a far cry from perfect is breaking me into millions of tiny pieces) and this oneshot in particular made me think a lot, particularly about the grieving process that I believe Remus went through during the years before Sirius came back. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I guess it’s a fanfic of a fanfic? I’ve decided to finally post my interpretation of everything Remus went through

The original fic has a very happy ending, so go and read it (because it’s incredible, and is also context for this) but this focuses specifically on Remus’ grief, so it doesn’t end in the same place

The context: Sirius left Hogwarts to try to talk Regulus out of being sworn in as a deatheater, and didn’t come back

CW: Major character “death”, panic attack, grief, implication of suicidal thoughts (very light)

A week passed. A week of worrying from the 3 marauders. A week of being unable to pay attention to classes. A week of McGonnagal apologising profusely for having no new updates about Sirius’ whereabouts. A week of concerned glances thrown at the group from the rest of the school.

Until it happened.

Remus had been scanning the Daily Prophet constantly, for some sign of Sirius.

They were pulled out of lesson, around midday on a Tuesday. All three of them, by a more than panicked McGonnagal.

James burst into sobs. Awful, heart wrenching, gut twisting sobs, that tore through his chest and echoed through the office. The sobs of the loss of a brother.

Peter was shaking. He didn’t know what to do with himself, where to go. He cried. Cried at the loss of a best friend. A family member.

Remus.

Remus was at a loss. Nothing but shock. Thick, foggy shock. There was no way.

He didn’t believe her. He couldn’t believe her, not if he wanted to keep going.

“No.” He shook his head, the only one or speak. “No, he- he can’t be, he isn’t, he’s not- he’s not- you’re wrong.“

“I’m so sorry, Remus.” Minerva herself was shaking, having lost a student who meant so much to her. “All accounts were identical.”

“Did you find him? His- his…”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Then how do we know? He can’t be- not Sirius.” His mind had fogged, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

He tried to register everything. Everything he had just lost. A life of having someone he could really confide in, trust, love with every inch of him. A life with someone by his side, someone who loved him unconditionally, who put up with him at his worst, someone he could have a future with, grow old with, possibly even have kids with one day. Someone he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. His soulmate, his love, his ray of light, the one person that made everything bearable on those hard days. His Sirius.

It took a week. A week of worried glances. A week of no appetite. A week of hiding in a corner of the library to avoid the stares from other people. A week of going through the motions of life, hardly awake, nothing feeling real. 1 week for the grief to hit.

It was something so small that triggered it all. He was in the great hall, Lily watching him sympathetically, concerned, when someone walked past.

“Those are the boys who were friends with the Black heir before he died.” They tried to whisper, but they all heard it, and everything hit Remus in a tidal wave.

He stood up and left, falling apart as everything became real. He was gone. Remus was never going to see the love of his life again. No real goodbye, nothing. He had to learn to live without his soulmate.

He stumbled to the tree by the black lake, the tree he and Sirius had made so many memories by. Where Sirius nervously asked him out for the first time, and Remus kissed him in the rain. Where Remus told Sirius he loved him for the first time. Where Sirius tearfully revealed the truth about his home life, and Remus let him fall apart for the first time, and they really understood how safe they felt together.

He collapsed, a sob ripping through him, attacking him.

Everything that he had somehow kept at bay, the intense grief that felt like thousands of knives stabbing him in the chest, over and over, choking him, stealing the air from his lungs and the light from his eyes finally had its grip around him.

He didn’t hear anybody follow him. It was only when arms wrapped around him, and Mary’s voice rang out, that he realised she was there at all.

“Remus, breathe.”

“He’s actually gone.” Remus sobbed, his heart being ripped out as reality came crashing down on him.

Everything had sunk in, and he almost wished it hadn’t. So Mary held him while he cried, letting him release every tear that hadn’t yet been shed for Sirius.

Remus started disappearing from lessons, spending full days in bed, shutting his eyes and trying to silence the pain in his head.

His parents had been contacted when it had first happened, and he had declined the offer to go home early at the time, not thinking straight, but eventually McGonnagal didn’t give him the choice, and he was sent back to the Welsh countryside to be swallowed up by the intense loneliness that had enveloped him.

He talked to James about it. Only James. James was the only one who felt the same overwhelming grief. The only one who knew him as well as Remus did. They were there for each other. Remus helped James through a series of panic attacks, grounding him, supporting him, and James helped Remus take care of himself, reminding him to eat, talking to him, anything he needed.

His parents tried. They tried so hard, but they couldn’t understand. They didn’t know what it felt like to have your soul ripped out of you at such a young age. Nothing seemed to ease the depression that had seeped into him.

The love of his life had been killed by Deatheaters, and there was a war going on. A war that they were going to fight in. The war had taken Sirius before it had even properly begun, and they were ready to fight.

The funeral felt impossible. Remus spoke.

Standing up in front of everyone was awful, all pitying gazes or grief stricken faces, but he had to do it. He had to do it for Sirius.

“You know, if he were here, he’d probably tell me I didn’t have to do this, because he knew how much I hated public speaking.” He smiled a little, tears shining in his eyes. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him. That I don’t dream about him, or hear his voice. It’s- he impacted so many of us, in so many ways. He’s the love of my life. Always will be. I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t think I can- I can’t say anything else.” His voice broke, and he went back to his seat, Hope wrapping an arm around him, as he rested his head on her shoulder and cried.

They went through Sirius’ things around a week later. Remus and Peter went to the Potter’s manor for it. They told stories, remembered. It was nice. Upsetting, but nice.

Until they got to the bottom of Sirius’ trunk. Remus pulled out a small velvet box and a folded piece of parchment. He frowned, confused, as he unfolded the note.

I know we’re young, but I know you’re the person I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with

I never thought I would be so lucky to fall in love with my best friend, but

Moons, I love you. We’re leaving Hogwarts, and I want to spend every moment of my life with you, especially with the war

Remus dropped the note, opening the box with shaking hands. There it was. A ring. It looked like silver, but as Remus pulled it out gently, he knew Sirius had taken his lycanthropy into account, and it was something that simply gave the impression of silver. It was studded with amber diamonds and had both the Canis Major and Lupin constellations engraved inside.

“Was he going to…?”

“I- I didn’t want to say anything. Not after… that.”

“Merlin, I-“ he couldn’t help the tears that fell, as James wrapped an arm around him. “He was- I could have-“

“I’m so sorry Remus.” James said, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I can’t live without him, Prongs.”

He wore the ring. Nobody said anything. Everybody understood why. Remus was always going to be Sirius’. He had been taken from Remus before they’d had a chance to build their lives together, and nothing could change the love he felt for Sirius, and always would feel for Sirius. The pain didn’t leave him, didn’t give him relief. It trapped him, attacking him.

Some days it was slightly easier. The days when he threw himself headfirst into dangerous missions, or was distracted by his friends.

Then there were the days he couldn’t get out of bed. When someone would absentmindedly call him Rem, or he would find an old photo of the two of them. The days when the same overwhelming pain would drive it’s way into him.

Hope usually didn’t see him on those days, knowing he liked to be alone, but she tried check in on him.

“Remus? How are you feeling lovely?” Remus could hear her footsteps, listening to her sit on the edge of the bed. He didn’t speak at first, he simply sat up and hugged her.

“I miss him so much.” He forced out, his breath coming in short bursts. “How- how am I supposed to move on?”

“You don’t have to yet. You need time.”

“I just want him back.” He sobbed, shaking, finally saying the things he had kept in his mind, circulating, torturing him since it had happened. “I just want to tell him I love him. I want to do everything again. The good and the bad. Everything.” His voice was raw as he cried.

She couldn’t understand what he was going through. She didn’t know how to stop the all consuming grief when it was at its worst, and Remus knew that she felt guilty for not being able to help him more.

Full moons were bad before, but they had only gotten worse. He usually went to the Potter’s for them, James and Peter still transforming to help him, but they barely spoke after the moons. They were too used to Sirius being there. It just felt wrong without him. Even the wolf seemed to notice the gaping hole in their group.

The 1 year anniversary after it had happened was one of the harder days. He spent most of the day alone, in the dark, trying to hold himself together, without the 1 person who could have made it all bearable.

He only forced himself up when there was a knock at the door, immediately met with his friends holding some sort of takeaway.

“Uh… hi.” He said, slightly unsure, as they all let themselves in. “Come in?” He said sarcastically, as James set the food on the counter.

“We’re having a night in!” Mary said lightly, as James rooted through Remus’ cupboards.

“Christ, Moony, where do you keep your plates? It’s like a bloody maze.” He muttered.

“Um, in that cupboard there.” He walked over and took them out for James.

They spent the evening together, and it made it all a little easier.

His friends were his lifeline. They had all experienced the loss of a family member. They were there to pick up the pieces for each other, and Remus would never be able to express his gratitude to them. They were each other’s support system.

Somehow, the conversation was turned to Sirius. One of them made a throwaway comment, not thinking, and they all went silent. Remus could hear his heart beating heavily, and he closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Remus…” Lily started, and Remus felt a tear fall, followed quickly by another as he dropped his head into his hands, shaking. “Oh, Remus…” She wrapped an arm around him.

“It’s just- it’s still so hard, why- why hasn’t it gotten any easier?” Nobody said anything. Nobody knew. They had all lost Sirius, but none of them knew how it felt to lose your soulmate in the way Remus had. “I don’t want- I don’t want to hurt anymore. I just want it to stop, I don’t want to constantly feel like my heart’s being ripped out my chest, like- like a piece of me went with him.” He spoke in between heavy sobs, and Mary stepped in quickly.

“You know, he was the most helpful student in Hogwarts. I always saw him showing the first years around, or defending them from Mulciber and his gang. He wasn’t even a prefect.” She said fondly.

“Even I had to admire his prank ideas.” Lily added. “I was head girl, but I really couldn’t bring myself to give him detention. His ideas were too interesting.”

“He was so considerate. I mean, I watched him listen to so many upset and stressed students, even people he barely knew, because he was worried about them.” Peter spoke quietly, tentatively, not wanting to make the situation worse accidentally.

They quickly spun the conversation to reminiscing, and the pain in Remus’ chest got a little lighter, and he regained the smallest amount of hope that he could have control over his life again.

Years passed. It was a struggle. He barely made it through the bad days. The days when something would remind him of the love of his life. His soulmate. The days when he would recklessly endanger his life on a mission to try and ease the mind numbing pain just a little.

But he did it. He made it through, with his friends by his side. As impossible as it seemed to him, he survived.

It is a very busy set of ideas, because I had so much I wanted to explore that I wasn’t sure how to go about, and I’m not brilliant at writing angst because it hurts my soul, but it turned out way better than I expected, and I hope you liked it!

#sirius black #marauders #wolfstar #young marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #moony x padfoot #wolfstar oneshot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot #wolfstar angst #major character death #remus loves sirius #sirius black angst

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