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nana-gumi · 2 months

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my heart belongs to.. who? g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, mentions of death, mentions of cremation, depression, starvation, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of self-harming, please read at your own risk!! NOT PROOFREAD AGAIN HELP (i'm sleepy alr but i want to update TvT)

a/n: here's the part two of the 'anyway, don't be a stranger.' yes the title has changed. also based from a song a piece of you by nathaniel constantin. that's all, enjoy reading ;) PLS NOTIFY ME IF YOU HAPPEN TO SEE TYPOGRAPHICAL ERRORS!! THANK YOU <3

now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

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satoru doesn't know why something in him ached when he randomly spotted his best friend, his dear best friend, suguru with you, on a random place and at a random time.

your backs were turned to him but he surely didn't like the way you cling to his best friend, it hurts him in many ways he couldn't explain but, satoru knew too well that he doesn't have the rights to feel that way, that's because every pain and sorrow that has happened to his life would be different if he didn't do that one big mistake.

ever since the divorce, satoru never saw you again. you left and none of the people you knew where you've gone to. satoru thought it was for the best that you should be away from him because the moment he feels vulnerable again, he would look for your presence, even though you weren't together anymore.

although sometimes, satoru do hope that you didn't run away from him. he wanted to fix everything, to apologize, to try things with you again. he never wanted anyone other than you. you were the only person that could see his other sides, the only person who knew him very very well, the only person he wanted to grow old with but everything was too late already.

he shouldn't have listened to you when you pushed him away and there, he would've never saw the pain look in your face when both of you separated your ways, he would've never saw the way you tried to stop yourself from crying infront of him, and he would've never saw the way you accepted to keep your wedding rings so desperately as if he would still be around you if you keep it.

satoru regretted every decision he made up until now, it was all of his fault, it was his fault why you had to leave, everything was his fault, you didn't have a choice because of him and he hoped that you've already forgave him for that. he really hoped so.

because of the heavy thoughts, satoru didn't know why his feet brought him to his best friend's apartment. maybe to ask how you were doing? are you still single? do you have a new lover now? was it suguru? are you both dating? oh gosh, he hoped not. it could be anyone but his best friend.

"(name) trusted you with it suguru, you shouldn't break your promise." satoru suddenly stopped on his tracks. that was shoko's voice, he was sure of it.

"but, don't you think he still has the right to know? satoru's the father after all."

"you're right though but—"

"what did you just say?" both eyes were widened at the sudden appearance as satoru revealed himself from hiding as he went closer to his best friends.

"when did you—"

"i'm the father? what do you mean?" satoru asked as he furrowed his eyebrows and suguru looked away from him. satoru could recognize the worried look of his best friend's face. "shoko?"

"well.." she mumbled, looking at suguru.

"are you hiding something from me?" satoru asked.

"it's not like that—" shoko said.

"then why do you both look nervous?"

"satoru." suguru called as he felt shoko's hand stop him and she shake her head left to right. "i'm sorry, but he needs to know."

"needs to know what? come on."

"satoru, you had a child, with (name)." and he couldn't be more surprised as he looked at suguru, lost and confused.

"what?"

"yeah, unfortunately, sanyu is—"

"stop." satoru said as he placed a hand on his temples. "is this some kind of prank? therefore, it's not funny."

"satoru, i'm not lying." suguru said, his expression blank.

"no. that's— that would be impossible.."

"go talk with her, satoru. heh, in the end, i couldn't keep my promise to her, huh?" suguru said as he placed a hand on his nape. "i'll send you the address, go." and satoru didn't waste any more time as he walked towards the front door but suguru stopped him again. "satoru." he called and suguru almost laughed at the worried and somehow excited look on his best friend's face. it's been a while since he saw that.

"what?" satoru said, cleary annoyed and impatient as suguru lightly smiled at him.

"be gentle with her, she's still vulnerable." satoru didn't get what suguru meant by that as he finally left, following the map where suguru had sent him.

you knew this day would've eventually come as you stand face to face with your ex-husband, he was panting and you were just about to go back home from the convenience store.

"(name).." he whispered your name as he took a step close to you, another one, and then another one as he started sprinting, embracing you in his arms and no one knew how much he missed feeling you around his arms. you let him embrace you but you stopped yourself from doing the same thing, you just stood there.

"why are you here?" you asked as satoru pulled away, his sleeve flying on his eyes as he slightly rubbed it. he was about to tear up.

"is it true?" satoru asked and he hoped you get what he meant with the question as you slowly nod your head.

"let's go inside my home first. it's getting cold here. i'll tell you everything there."

and there both of you ended up inside your home as satoru quietly inspected the surroundings. there was your picture and his son hanging on the wall.

"here." you said, handing him a glass of water. "i'm guessing suguru told you?"

"no. i actually overheard them."

"i see."

"so, where's.. um— can i see our child?" he asked and your heart ached at his question. you thought suguru told him already?

satoru didn't know what to do you when you started sobbing as you covered your face with your palms.

"you can't." you mumbled, wiping your tears as you look down on your lap.

"i understand.. but if you're—"

"you can't, satoru. we can't—"

"i know. i know you still don't trust me but i promise i will—"

"he's gone, satoru! don't you understand it? he's gone, he's dead, we can't see him anymore!" you exclaimed. everything was just overwhelming and you didn't mean to yell at him. "i'm sorry." you mumbled, once again, covering your face with your hands as you cry.

you felt his presence beside you as he wrapped his arms around you. he didn't know what else to do and satoru thought being close to you will help, being close to you will maybe help his almost shattering soul.

"i'm sorry." satoru said as he felt your arms around him. was this suguru meant when you were still vulnerable. he should've asked suguru to be more clear so there, satoru would know how to comfort you very well.

"i'm sorry, satoru. i kept him away from you when he wanted to see you. i should've pushed aside my own feelings and let sanyu meet you but i just couldn't, and now guilt is eating me up. it's my fault he couldn't see his papa on his last days. it was his last wishes but—"

"shh, stop it already. it's okay. don't blame yourself."

"i'm really sorry." no. satoru told himself he doesn't deserve your apologies and thinks everything was his fault to begin with.

"it was my fault that i couldn't be there for you. for our son. i deserve all the blame." satoru said as you slightly pulled away from him as you wiped your tears.

"it's not your fault either. sanyu was born with a weak heart. i couldn't protect him with that, no?" you said as you placed your hands on your lap.

"when we met at the parking lot, was that?.." you nodded your head in response as you recalled that day.

"that was the day after sanyu died." you mumbled and satoru couldn't help but clench his jaw. if only he knew.

satoru snapped out of his thoughts when he felt you sit up from the couch as you kneeled infront of the small table, taking something beneath it as you went back beside him.

"come, i'll show you his pictures." you said as you smiled at him and satoru couldn't help but mirror you. just for now, maybe you both could be happy, even just for now.

"he even cut his own hair, look!" you exclaimed, pointing a certain picture as satoru laughed with you.

he missed a lot things. when you were carrying his child, when his son was born, when his son was growing up. he wasn't there to witness everything and he almost– no, he regrets it so so much.

"i almost dyed his hair black 'cause he reminds me of you so much." you sighed as you closed the album, finally reaching its end as you place it on the table.

"we really do look like each other." satoru said as you lightly smile at him.

"you're not wrong." you responded and suddenly, it became silent.

"i'm sorry (name)." he started as you stayed still in your position. "i tried looking for you." he continued as he held your hand on his with you still avoiding to look at him. "why didn't you tell me before?" he said and that's what made you look at him. is he seriously asking you that?

"i don't know, satoru. do you?" you asked and he was completely taken aback.

"you should definitely go home now, someone might be waiting for you.." you said as you stand up from the couch, only for him to stop you by your wrist.

you looked at him for a moment and he did too. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out as your hand slowly slipped out of his grasp and you turned your back at him.

"if you want to know more about sanyu, just ask."

it's been a week since you and satoru talked things out. it felt good to be able to talk everything with him. you thought at some point that satoru will hate you even more for not informing him about his son's existence but it was the opposite.

and maybe, you shouldn't have stalked his social and there you wouldn't stumble on his ex' account, because you never knew that it would hurt you this much, that it would hurt your already, broken heart.

you felt some type of jealousy seeing his family be happy in those pictures. they even went on a trip, on different places and many more. satoru looked happy. maybe if those mistakes were prevented back then, it would be you, him and sanyu.

there were missed calls and unread messages from suguru and shoko but you didn't have the energy to reply to each of them.

you just wanted to lay in your bed all day, almost wishing that sanyu would knock at your door asking for a help with his assignment, but no, it wouldn't happen anymore. you were all alone now, you'll never be able to feel happiness again, everything felt too empty for you to feel any type of emotions except for sorrow.

your eyes slowly opened when you felt something cold in your forehead.

"you're finally awake."

"what happened?" you asked as you tried to sit up from the bed, only for satoru to push you back.

"don't stand up yet. you passed out on the living room. you've been sleeping for a day already. are you eating? don't starve yourself." he talks too fast that you almost didn't catch his words.

"why are you here?" you asked.

"well.. i guess i want to know more about sanyu." he said as he hesitantly looked at you. "i'm sorry for walking around your house without your permission but, i saw a small shrine on the room beside here. is that sanyu's?" satoru asked as you nod at him.

"i forgot to tell you but i had sanyu cremated."

"okay, i understand."

"you can visit him anytime if you want."

"that would be great. thank you."

satoru did visit once a week. you noted that it was always on thursdays, just like suguru had told you that satoru's always available on thursdays.

your house would be messy if satoru wasn't around but if you knew that he'll be visiting, you'll force yourself to clean the house. you didn't want him to see you in worst state again, not anymore. he didn't have to know that you were starving yourself, that you would only eat when he brings you food.

he doesn't need to know. not that he would care, right? satoru is not in the position to care for you after all. he only visits for his son, it's wasn't because of you. maybe you should stop being delusional and face the reality that satoru and you couldn't work together anymore. he already has a family on his own. he has nothing to do with you anymore. a part of you is still hoping though but then again, he doesn't need to know.

there was a time where satoru visited you on tuesday. it was unexpected that he caught you almost hurting yourself. house and room messy.

it hurts him to see you like this. he couldn't help but to compare the old you to the you now. a big difference. he doesn't see you smile anymore. he doesn't hear your laugh anymore.

"you needn't to hurt yourself, okay? tell me if i can help in any way." he said as you sit on the couch, knees close to your chest as you stare at nothing.

your thoughts was playing with you because all of the sudden, you recalled everything that has happened between you and satoru. his mistakes, his wrongdoings, his happy family. your blood started to boil and you couldn't help but blame him in your mind. that it was his fault why sanyu have to suffer.

"hey, i know it still hurting you but—"

"you know nothing!" you exclaimed which took him off guard. he was unfamiliar with that look in your face.

"(name), calm down." he said as he tried to reach for you, only for you to slap his hand away.

"shut up! don't order me around! can you just leave my house?" you yelled. "this is all your fault." you mumbled and satoru heard it loud and clear. you weren't wrong though. "leave! i don't want to see you anymore. i hate you."

and even if you push him as many times as you want, satoru would not lose hope. he still visits you and sanyu. though he took note of the changes in your mood sometimes.

satoru visited late than usual. you already fell asleep on the couch. you swore you weren't waiting for him or something. it just happened that you got tired from the cleaning the house.

after the usual visit of you and satoru in your child's room both decided to eat the food he brought.

"sorry i was late. i had a hard time choosing a ring—" he cuts off himself with a fake cough as he looked away from you. "anyway, sorry for making you wait."

"it's fine. thank you for bringing me food."

"of course."

today, you seemed a lot more good now. satoru can notice you smile everytime. he didn't want to assume that you're smiling because of him though.

"is there something wrong?" he asked when he noticed you staring at him.

"i'm fine. thank you for visiting." you said as you walked satoru at the front door. "oh wait." you said, walking back to your room as satoru stood still on the front door and you went back after a minute.

"take this." you said, handing him a certain necklace.

"for me?" satoru said, taking the necklace in your hand.

"i asked them to put a little bit of sanyu ashes inside. you can't open that anymore since they locked it." satoru's eyes widened at your words.

"thank you." he said as you smiled at him.

"here, let me help." you said, as you wear the necklace on him. "sanyu will always be by your side, wherever you are." you said as you smiled and suddenly, satoru turned around, his face was too close to you and you think he could almost hear on how loud your beating heart is.

you awkwardly took a step back as you cleared your throat to ease the awkward tension.

"thank you (name), really. i will treasure this." he said as you smiled at him, for the last time.

"sorry for yelling at you sometimes, satoru."

"don't worry, i understand. just let me know if you want to release some stress. i'll try my best to help." he said and despite of answering, you only smiled, again.

"thank you, satoru. sanyu was the best son i could ever have." you said and he suddenly placed a hand on your head. like how he always does before as he leaned to your level.

"thank you for raising our child." he said as you look at him with widened eyes and you couldn't help but frown as you place a hand close to your chest.

stop giving me false hope, satoru.

"take care." you couldn't help but tear up as you whispered those words as satoru left. be happy, always. even if it's without me.

"i had a hard time choosing a ring." you mumbled, mimicking his words.

you smiled but what you were feeling inside was opposite. maybe you shouldn't expect too much because in the end, if reality didn't reach your expectations, it'll just hurt you more.

it really hurts to think that you made a man for another woman but, it is what it is. you're just glad that satoru seemed to cherish his new family now.

he did changed a lot, huh.

"satoru."

"be quick, suguru. i'm a bit busy right now." satoru said as he heard his best friend sigh at the other line.

"did (name) said something to you?" satoru immediately sat properly on his office chair when he heard your name.

"nothing much. she gave me a necklace though, why?"

"i see. look, if you have time today come in her house."

"why? what happened?"

"do you have a time today, at least?"

"i guess i could try." satoru said. "is there something wrong with (name)." satoru asked and there was a long pause from suguru's end before he answered.

satoru went back from what it seemed like a long trip as he sat on his office chair.

he stared at a certain velvet box on his table. his black glasses was discarded as he lightly move the office chair left to right.

he did had a hard time choosing a ring. he doesn't know of you still like the same design. did you change your preferences?he doesn't know that's why satoru bought a limited edition ring for you. he was told that the ring brings luck and now he just wanted to throw the ring in the middle of an ocean.

"brings luck my ass." he muttered. he was too tired to think. he refused to believe suguru's words because he just saw you 2 days ago. was suguru playing pranks on him again?

"she's been found in her room. unalive." suguru's words kept repeating inside his head like a broken radio as he clutched the necklace on his hand.

he was supposed to ask you to start over again, to try things out again, from there, he swore that he wouldn't do the same mistake again but it was all too late now.

maybe the universe didn't want you and him to be together again that's why they took you away from him, his son too. he knew he did mistakes back then but was it too much that they have to take his family away forever?

yeah, this must be his punishment for doing those unforgiving things to you.

"suguru, do you think (name) would agree if i ask her to start over again?"

"there's nothing wrong with trying, satoru, but know that people tend to change. don't be surprised when she doesn't want you in her life anymore." suguru said as his best friend kept quiet. "but what about them?"

"who?"

"your ex and your son."

"i couldn't care less about her, but i still cherish sanyu since he grew up with me, even if he's not my legal child."

"you don't really want to tell (name) about it?" suguru suggested and satoru couldn't help but think if he could do what his best friend is suggesting.

"what's the point? will it change everything?" satoru mumble, an ache going straight to his chest. "it hurts for me to say this but i only accepted to raise sanyu because i couldn't stop thinking of (name), of having a family with her. i forced myself to believe that he's our son. i didn't even know that (name) is actually carrying our child."

"why don't you just sue your ex for paternity fraud?"

"there's no point in it. she's still sanyu's mother."

"you're too nice, satoru."

no, he wasn't. in fact, he almost sent his ex to prison but he couldn't stop thinking of how sanyu will react if he found out that his mother was sent to jail by his father. he was too young for those things.

but satoru asks himself, why? why does he have to do these things? why does he have to think of how sanyu would feel? they weren't relatives anyway. he could take everything he spent for raising sanyu, he could just leave them to live their own life, but he just couldn't do it.

"if only i could go back in time." satoru mumbled and suguru didn't know what do respond to that anymore. if only.

tags: @skylarlyn823 @mo0nforme @mor-pheus @he4rts444mi @bubblysunwoosworld @arieltate @imaniitheoneee @kaiiriiis @ichikanu @witchbybirth @yoimiya-m @hojoslutoru @itsvalomfg I COULDN'T TAG THE OTHERS SORRY TvT

#nana.gumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru angst

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nightprompts · 1 year

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&. 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( dialogue prompts taken from the script of everything everywhere all at once (2022), directed by daniel kwan and daniel scheinert. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )

❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜

❛ stop changing the subject. ❜

❛ every day i fight, i fight for all of us. ❜

❛ what are you doing? what is wrong? ❜

❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜

❛ you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain.❜

❛ we can make our own way. please, come with me. ❜

❛ don't even talk to me about this because i won't remember.❜

❛ i am not your husband. at least not the one you know. i am another version of him from another life path, another universe. ❜

❛ i’m here because we need your help.❜

❛ sorry, very busy today. no time to help you– ❜

❛ all those years of searching have brought me here. to this universe. to you. ❜

❛ i’m here to tell you every rejection, every disappointment has led you here. to this moment. ❜

❛ i'm not ready to fight yet. ❜

❛ maybe we don't have a choice. ❜

❛ now, you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences. ❜

❛ i... want to lie here. ❜

❛ how often do people literally die laughing? ❜

❛ my husband won't even kill a spider. how are you the same person? ❜

❛ we are talking about infinity. if you can imagine it, somewhere out there, it exists. ❜

❛ how did i die? ❜

❛ i've seen you die a thousand ways. in a thousand worlds. in every single one, you were murdered. ❜

❛ what!? who wants me dead? ❜

❛ you’ve been feeling it too, haven’t you? something is off. your clothes never wear as well the next day, your hair never falls in quite the same way, even your coffee tastes... wrong. ❜

❛ maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married. ❜

❛ i never said that. ❜

❛ you didn’t have to. it’s the way you look at me. ❜

❛ can’t you see it? how wonderful it would be if you came with me? ❜

❛ i saw my life without you. i wish you could have seen it. it was beautiful. ❜

❛ shhh, you're not thinking straight. ❜

❛ what is worse than death? ❜

❛ i saw your face on a billboard and — this is silly — i wondered if you remembered me... ❜

❛ is it that i can’t be here, or that i’m not allowed to be here? ❜

❛ there is no good, there is no evil. there is only “goovil”. ❜

❛ if you can imagine it, you have fucked it. ❜

❛ do not be so closed minded that you blind yourself from the truth! ❜

❛ don’t make me fight you. i am really really good. ❜

❛ you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything. ❜

❛ you can't remember anything because your bodies were under the control of other universes. ❜

❛ you were like puppets. and you could do things you normally can't do. you were like, what's that movie... raccaccoonie? ❜

❛ how can you defeat her in every universe, if you can't even kill her in one? ❜

❛ the sacrifices necessary to win this war... i know all too well. ❜

❛ i cannot lose another loved one to the darkness. ❜

❛ i know you have feelings. feelings that make you so sad. that make you just want to give up. that is not your fault. ❜

❛ i'll see you again soon, somewhere out there in all that noise. ❜

❛ just think happy thoughts. ❜

❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ��

❛ i'm the one you've been looking for. ❜

❛ i’m the one who will defeat you. ❜

❛ you’re finally free, like me. ❜

❛ you don't have to choose anymore. between loving me or hating me. you can do both at the same time. ❜

❛ before, you were asking about "our daughter". it's crazy, but it really got me thinking. what if you had come with me all of those years ago? ❜

❛ all of this time, i wasn't looking for someone who could defeat me. i was looking for someone who could see what i see, feel what i feel... ❜

❛ oh, good, you're here too. ❜

❛ i'm sorry about ruining everything, i– ❜

❛ we're all stupid. small stupid little humans. it's like our whole deal. ❜

❛ everything is going to be okay. ❜

❛ you think i’m weak don’t you? ❜

❛ when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say i was too sweet for my own good. maybe he was right. ❜

❛ please! can we just stop fighting! ❜

❛ you tell me that it's a cruel world and we're all just running around in circles. i know that. i've been on this earth just as many days as you. ❜

❛ the only thing i do know is we have to be kind. be kind. especially, when we don't know what's going on. ❜

❛ i know you go through life with your fists held tight. you see yourself as a fighter. well, i see myself as one too. this is how i fight. ❜

❛ in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you. ❜

❛ you know what i say? cold, hysterical, unlovable bitches like us make the world go round. ❜

❛ you aren’t unlovable. there is always something to love. ❜

❛ even in a stupid, stupid universe where we have hot dogs for fingers, we’d all be very good with our feet! ❜

❛ in a universe where we both agree that no one could love you, if we look hard enough, something will prove us wrong. ❜

❛ we are all useless alone. so its good you're not alone. ❜

❛ maybe you win in this universe. but in another, i beat you. or we tie. or we eat crepes. ❜

❛ i don't want to hurt anymore. and for some reason when i'm with you, it hurts both of us. ❜

❛ out of all of the places i could be, why would i want to be here with you? ❜

❛ i still want to be here with you. i will always want to be here with you. ❜

❛ i will cherish these few specks of time. ❜

#everything everywhere all at once #sentence starters #roleplay memes #roleplay starters #rp starters #rp memes #dialogue prompts #ship sentence starters #ship memes #ask memes #inbox memes #movies

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sunboki · 7 months

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⎯ THE DEVIL'S PLAYTHING a Christopher Bahng fiction

💣 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. bodyguard au, demon au, friends to lovers, eventual smut, minors DNI

WORD COUNT. 6.6k words

WARNINGS. chan & han are demons(NO POLY), mentions of lucifer/the devil, eventual smut, descriptive violence, smoking, fighting, cursing, blood, wounds, drinking, reader gets drunk/passes out

PLAYLIST

AUG'S NOTES. this started as a random blurb while in the bathroom(tmi i know) but i just HAD to make a longer adaptation!! as usual, if you enjoy the fic please feel free to leave feedback & a reblog!ised ya’ll bodyguard chan would be back.. your wish is my command~

SYNOPSIS. A petty robbery leads to deep debt for Chan, a white-eyed demon occupying Hell. So eventually, he finds himself faced with no choice but to go job hunting. The best offer available? A bodyguard gig in the human realm. Oh, and the worst part? Jisung’s here too.

or alternatively :

When Chan had to leave Hell to "babysit" (a.k.a. protect) you in the human realm, he wasn’t expecting for things to turn out the way they did — in more ways than one.

SMUT WARNING. usage of the nickname “bunny” and “good girl”, somewhat hinted size kink, praise, dumbification, barely dubcon (reader gives consent ; nonverbal), creampie, chan cums inside (use protection ya’ll), monsterfucking! basically lmao

There’s an infinite list of reasons why humans shouldn’t associate with demons. But was it really all that important? Maybe the humans wanted it.

Or, maybe the demons did too.

Maybe, the demons didn’t have a choice.

What a funny thought.

Although, for Christopher Bahng, a demon himself, it was reality.

So the real question stood. Is it the humans that shouldn’t associate with demons, or the other way around?

The thought occurred to Chan at some point, but his head, ringing with the sound of silver coins clattering on glass surfaces, drowned out every ounce of sensibility. Blood, flesh, he was a demon. And right now, he had hell to pay as Lucifer’s underling. No pun intended.

Demons were an ideal choice for bodyguards, too obsessed with their own greed to pay any mind to the consequences, dogs to somebody else’s beckon, minds trained like hunting dogs.

Taking care of the dirty work, for a price.

A price that Chan needed, desperately. Because one thing demons, including himself, love doing is tormenting.

That is until he’s the victim of the tormenting, and all of a sudden the experience doesn’t feel too welcoming.

Raiding his home was an understatement considering they had utterly demolished every inch, not leaving a single fragment remaining in one piece. Granted, he didn’t cry about it. Instead, he lived up to his name, his title.

..Let’s just say he doubted the red stains would ever leave that shirt of his, metallic scent strong enough to make your nose burn.

Unfortunately, Lucifer wasn’t the greatest at forgiving, and he determined rather quickly this was only the start of his problems regardless of how sweetly the demon lord threatened explained he would dissolve Chan into ash if he ever got tired of him.

Alas, two weeks later, he gets a call.

Combing a frustrated hand through raven-colored locks, he holds the phone up to his ear, repeatedly snapping his fingers. The girl kneeled between his legs raises up begrudgingly, wiping her mouth and disappearing into his bathroom.

Well there goes a good blowjob.

Yet, finally, a job was proposed.

Multiple, according to the drone of a fumbling assistant. Jobs comprised of one he’d primarily work and occasional hitman gigs on the side.

Catch? The job was located in the human realm. Not impossible, but not as easy as sleuthing in Hell, where common folk were demons and not big-eyed, nosy, mind-your-damn-business-mortals.

The job in question? Babysitting. Specifically for Lucifer's right-hand man, otherwise known as the Devil’s Plaything. And, despite not being a demon, served Lucifer as if he was one. How cute.

Or as the trauma-induced auditor phrased it, “guarding” some girl.

“Guarding” was something he was mildly familiar with, but never a human. Never in the human realm. So when the suggestion was offered, Chan’s first instinct was to reject—remind Hell’s moderator that he wasn’t just a regular, but a demon of impressive status. A white-eyed demon, who, in fact, ranged most powerful of its kind.

His first instinct was also to punch the man working at the register of this putrid smelling burger joint right in the face, maybe frame his head as a part of a collection while he’s at it. Demons are creative like that.

Because being in this situation, nonetheless currently walking around in the human realm he swore to never step foot in has his stomach jarring.

“Chan, look at this! It’s called K-E-T-C-H-U-P, what a funny name!”

Oh. Yeah. The walking headache, Han Jisung. Forgot he’s here too.

Digging through his pockets for spare change, all he could find was a few meager pennie’s as the obnoxious noise of his demon-companion scarfing down a double cheeseburger had Chan’ jaw progressively tightening.

“Um, sir, that’s not enough to pay for-“ Without hesitation, Chan lifted his upper lip with his index, revealing the sharply pointed canines underneath and effectively silencing the apron-clad employee, frantically printing his receipt without another word.

Yes, apparently there are perks of being a hell-spawn.

Although, the burger still tasted like shit. What a shame.

Heading to the location wasn’t all too difficult, being that it was rather easy locating such an enormous property surrounded by tall, black hinged gates. The passcode… was another story.

Lucifer was likely laughing his ass off watching them try figuring this out.

“Okay, It’s probably like 666 or something- JESUS— you guys scare me sometimes.” Clutching a hand to his erratic heart with panic, a pacing Jisung nearly toppled over as his soon-to-be Boss suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gates slowly opening behind him.

He may not be a Demon, but by how nonchalantly he appeared from thin air, he seemed to gain some attributes over the years.

It didn’t take long for either of them to figure out why the title “Devil’s Plaything” was attached, because the more he toured them around this palace of a house, the more he told of his reasons for hiring them in the first place. Well, more like why Lucifer sent them here.

Easily speaking, his and Jisung’s role would be to protect you at all costs, considering your father’s current predicament (a.k.a coming under investigation for the bodies discovered in Hanuel Park). Not to mention the countless assassins sent on a daily basis, scouring the property for entryways.

Although he’s not surprised by their hesitance. This man, Yoon L/N, was the closest resemblance to the Devil on Earth.

He was terrifying, and coming from a demon, that said a lot.

Chan has to watch his tongue, because he’s not guarding another one of hell’s representatives, a creature of unprecedented rudeness and hatred, he’s guarding a human.

Someone who falls in love and cries, someone who can’t get away with murder when they’re annoyed and go uncharged.

Humans are pitiful. They’re emotional and too trusting and—

You step down the stairs.

They’re pretty and soft and really, really fucking pretty.

The sound of your father clearing his throat rips him from his trance, your trance.

He can practically sense Jisung choking on his laughter.

“Y/n, these are your bodyguards. Bahng, Han, this is Y/n,” He gestures, and Chan notes the gleaming watch on his wrist.

Best guess that thing’s averaging $70,000. Not to mention that this entire house, though naked to the human eye, is laced in traps.

Whether it’s the more hollow wooden plank on the floor that triggers some alarm or the multitude of switches under your kitchen’s island, the security system is certainly intact, and for good reason.

However, you couldn't have made Yoon L/n’s actions look more hypocritical, appearing so opposingly sweet.

“Nice to meet you,” You hold out a hand.

He doesn’t miss the half-smile you give him.

Shit. Don’t look at him like that.

Introducing themselves, you momentarily slip past, and in your stead, your father beckons either of them to the side.

“I’ll only say this once,” Yoon smiles, but it’s a leery smile, one that causes his gums to gradually show, like it’d belong to a murderer, a serial killer of some kind.

Fitting.

“Get her into danger, hurt her, or disobey my orders under any circumstances and I kill you, understood?”

And even though at the snap of a finger Chan could have this man drop dead, he believed him, both simultaneously nodding their heads without complaint.

Meeting eyes with Jisung, a common denominator sits heavy between them, most likely the first thing they’ve whole-heartedly agreed on this entire time.

This is gonna be one hell of a job.

.. .

District 9’s nightclubs are always a bust. If you’re looking for a drink without it being laced you might as well give up, and the only thing that keeps a person from getting swept away in the expansive sea of high heels, go-go boots, and awkward teenagers that miraculously managed to get past the bouncer is a lone, blinking red sign that reads “OUT”.

The first time you ever came here you never thought you’d be so relieved to open a squealing door.

Leaning against the side of the brick building sits the girl responsible for an entourage of drunk-calls and random texts of her location when she sneaks out.

Her moth-eaten sneakers are pulled up to her chest, bleached hair messily arranged into a spiky up-do while she aimlessly scrolls on her phone. Although you know she’s noticed you by now.

“I feel like..” She sighs, black mascara smudged beneath her waterline. “I should’ve taken that Vodka shot.”

You wrinkle your nose, dropping down on her left.

It’s fairly easy conversing with Ha-joon, a girl who didn’t require a reaction or a response, who didn’t talk much but had a whole pocketful of opinions. And you listened.

She swivels her head ever so slightly toward you.

“Do you think drinking a laced shot will make my life more interesting?” Her remark scarily nonchalant, you chuckle, snatching the joint from between her thumb and index and tossing it against the neighboring business’ wall in front of you.

Unfazed, she rises to her feet, pulling a Marlboro pack from her back pocket, palm cupping the lighter’s flickering flame.

“If you count fentanyl as a good time, then sure,” Lifting your chin to cock a sarcastic brow, she rolls her eyes before abruptly snapping her fingers, remembering. The sound ricochets off trash bags stashed at the furthest end of this deserted alleyway.

“You said your Mafia-daddy hired new bodyguards?”

Ah, you forgot you mentioned that.

Don’t mind the “Mafia-daddy” part.

Nodding, there’s a beat of stillness before she lightly nudges your calf with her shoe, Ha-joon’s sign for you to list some sort of detailed description for her to piece together.

This happens every time you meet somebody new. Her little guessing game before the first impression, apparently.

And so you do, spilling information to the best of your capabilities from the fifteen seconds you met them. Their hair, height, eyes (you recall Han’s especially, huge and hypnotizing like black-holes), clothing, and all the details your jumbled brain can pour out to your overly eager, easily bored best friend.

“So this Chan guy..”

One clever glance and you’re already predicting her next words.

“Does he have a big nose?” Smirk growing the darker your cheeks redden, you pathetically groan, burying your face in your hands.

Of course she’s cornered you, because you can’t deny your yes of an answer without evidently lying and digging further into your self-made rabbit hole.

Leave it to Ha-joon to secretly slip the raunchiest sentence you'll hear all night.

Smugness gradually dissipating, the barely-blonde shuffles back down, phone screen displaying countless messages you don't ask about.

Like earlier, Ha-joon doesn’t talk much, but she has a lot to say. Additionally, if she doesn’t bring it up herself, don’t mention it.

Years by her side taught you that.

“They’re only gonna get you in trouble, I have a feeling,” She murmurs prior to taking a long drag of her cigarette, lipstick shade perfectly contrasting with the soaring puff of smoke sifting from her mouth and nose upon exhaling.

She’s always been on the rougher side. Spontaneously rough, the type that would impulsively send you a text she’s going backpacking tomorrow despite an exam scheduled, the type that would continuously run away on a whim.

In essence, everyone on campus has some sort of crush on her (apart from yourself, obviously), whether it comes down to her rumbling persona or how much of a hard-core lesbian she is, you’re not sure.

You click your tongue, glaring at her flippantly.

“And that’s not doing you any better.” Musing in regards to her bad habits, she laughs lowly, low-rise jeans bagging down by her ankles while bending closer.

Your hands brace in anticipation, coughing when she blows a heavy smoke plume right in your face.

You choke a giggle, shoving her senselessly giggling frame.

“The only thing I’m letting do me is that waitress in there,” Painted nails pointing to the entrance while making utterly obscene gestures, you dramatically gag.

Well, until she spins on her heel, fetching a plastic bag holding two bottles of Cass beer from behind a metal trash can.

You tilt your head, the girl wordlessly cracking one open with her teeth and the other using the junction of her shoulder.

‘A Ha-joon thing’, you think as she hands you a glass, chilled exterior sending an unwelcoming wave of shivers throughout your body.

Your initial response is to decline, but her index to your lips shushes your reasons.

“I know you don’t drink often, but just a few sips just this once, please?” Batting invisible puppy-dog eyes, you sigh, gulping down a haphazard swig.

Last time you had genuinely gotten drunk was back in junior year of high school, all the kids swarmed in a rando’s basement, acting appropriately irresponsible for your age.

You recall your fat crush on Hwang Hyunjin (before realizing he was actually in a relationship) being the main component in getting so drunk that you blacked out, though you’re sure the highly unflattering pictures Ha-joon took would jog your memory.

Yet just a few sips was an understatement, something you should’ve known. Because conversation turns into more conversation, funny conversation, deep conversation while your wrist unconsciously lifts to your mouth till your friend transforms into nothing but a blurry figure illuminated by the moon.

And you wonder, as you feel yourself tilt further and further toward the cement below, if Ha-joon will snap unflattering pictures of this moment too, of stupid decisions leading to stupid consequences.

Most likely.

.. .

"Mmm." You mumble, face stuffed into his sleeve as Chan carries you from the alleyway, ushering a loopy Ha-joon into a taxi with a short bow.

Clad in his work attire primarily made up of black elements, he carefully places you in the back seat of the SUV and pulls off his dark coat to wrap around your body, ensuring you're fully swaddled to secure as much warmth as possible from the biting cold.

"We're going home, so hang on just a bit longer for me." The man assures, patting your head lightly before sliding into the driver's seat and pressing his foot to the gas.

Han, who was sitting in the back beside you while Chan drove, took experimental peeks at the pink-hue decorating your cheeks (evidence that you'd be drunk) to your puffy lips pursed in a pout.

He internally squeals, fiddling with his phone in his pocket, unveiled demon tail practically wagging with glee.

"Hyung, can I? Pleasee Hyung- just one photo she looks so cute–“

“No." The older of them responds sternly, one hand clutching the steering wheel.

As much as he normally wouldn’t care, this was his- their first actual order in fulfilling their duties, and Chan wasn’t willing to pay the price of fucking up Yoon’s guidelines.

His companion huffs, deflating by your side as he directs a childish frown at Chan in the mirror, only met with an equally stern gaze reading "no nonsense".

Chan had always been one to take his job seriously, not that Han didn't, he just liked having a little bit of fun jumping from side to side across those permanent marker drawn lines.

In actuality, if it weren't for his friend, Han would've never gotten the job in the first place.

Stark glowing of your houses’ lights lining the driveway ripped away his thought process, quickly intervening when your door opened.

"I can carry her," He claims, arms crossed while the older bodyguard simply cocks a brow, an action that shouldn't have Jisung shying away like he was.

There's an immense staring contest until Chan releases a hefty sigh, gesturing for Jisung to go ahead.

"If you drop her, I kill you, then myself."

This earns a giggle while Han unbuckles your seatbelt, softly cooing with you lying in his arms.

You're cute, very cute in fact.

Very off limits, in fact, he reminds himself, grip tightening the creepier he pictures your father—and it’s the adorable scrunch of your nose in discomfort that reminds him of his strength, immediately relaxing his hold.

Like Chan said, any wrong moves and they're both off the radar in seconds. Business.

The entirety of it all was a bit hilarious considering how things were when you'd first been introduced to the two, not appearing to be the type to get drunk like this, to get drunk at all in a secluded area next to some nightclub.

Chan wasn’t wrong when he said it’s always a surprise with clients.

Well, he was referring to his hitman job then, but it's still applicable in this situation, right?

…Right?

Forget it.

Slowly, oh so slowly your eyes peel open, instantly noticing the familiar smell and interior that definitely wasn't where you'd been five minutes ago with Ha-joon.

Ah. There he is.

Chan.

Peering over where you're tucked in bed, dressed in pajamas.

Hold on, pajamas?

Scrambling up and simultaneously wincing from the throbbing headache settling a dull ring in your ears, you send him an incredulous stare, face incessantly warming the longer you think about it.

Hangovers provide another of the many reasons why you don’t drink anymore, because this hellish predicament led to a single hellish explanation you certainly didn’t want to face.

"You... My clothes.." Stumbling over how to phrase it, you suppress a scowl watching the ghost of a grin make its way on his lips. Maybe you're imagining it.

One of his veiny hands reaches up to cover his eyes, leaving you to instead infatuate upon plush lips moving when he speaks.

"My job description, along with the papers you read and signed before I was hired gave me consent, but whatever I see is strictly confidential between you and I."

Gathering your sanity, you scoff, humiliation and embarrassment flooding your system at an alarming rate.

Flopping back onto the bed, you slam a pillow over your face, muttering a "strictly confidential my ass" that he had to have heard from the low laugh uttered in reply.

He stalks over, fingertip tapping the water you hadn’t noticed sitting atop your nightstand.

Cautiously stealing a glimpse out from your pillow to see where he distanced himself across the room, you finish the cup in a swift motion, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.

“You huma- You aren’t good with your alcohol, are you?” He starts, quite entertained witnessing your annoyed gaze, one which very noticeably doesn’t stay focused on his eyes.

Sucking your teeth, you slouch, mirroring his crossed arms.

You’re fine with playing feisty, and by the awfully attractive way he’s cocking his head, he’s also willing to join this biting game.

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because I’m never passed out and in need of someone to call for me when I go drinking.”

At this you practically hiss, grasping any futile chance to retaliate to no avail.

Opposed to his teasing nature, he drags a stool to your bedside, insisting you drink more.

Even more opposing, a gentle hand presses to your forehead, checking that you haven't contracted a fever.

To say your heartbeat pounded didn’t credit the surprise to its full extent, and thank whatever God above the experience only lasted a few more seconds, giving you plenty of time to freshen your haywire sensibility and brush your teeth before any more soul-sucking Chan run-ins continued.

You should’ve known better than to think he’d truly leave you be though, said soul-sucking bodyguard currently propped against the bathroom’s door frame.

“How did you get into this anyway? Y’know, bodyguard stuff..” You begin to ask, voice muffled from the toothbrush deterring any fully audible sentence.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“I have my ways.”

“Your ways?”

Within split seconds he’s right next to you, making rather intentional eye contact through the mirror.

You inhale sharply.

“Look, sweetness, my job as your bodyguard is to keep you safe,” He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “And if I tell you, I can’t guarantee that.”

There are three things you realized in that moment.

One, Chan is so, so close.

Two, he has an unfairly gorgeous face.

And three, your mouth is smeared with toothpaste.

Great.

You’d like to admit the first night of meeting these new bodyguards, more specifically Chan, went as normal and as non-Ha-joon-influenced as possible, but this effect on you causing your bloodstream to erupt in a hormonal frenzy of attraction told you the story had just begun.

.. .

"Jisung. Hold. Still! Keep moving and this wand is going in your eyeball."

Three weeks in and one thing after another has lead you closer and closer with either of them, whether it's convincing Jisung to go on ice cream runs (where Chan always ends up tagging along) or attempting to remain focused while they help you study (more like trying not to laugh at Jisung and averting your eyes off of Chan’s biceps in that muscle-shirt of his), the three of you are practically conjoined at the hip, and not on bodyguard standards.

"Okay okay! I was itchy. Can you move the piece of hair by my eyebrow?" He whines, grasping an apologetic squeeze on your waist while you focus in his lap.

You’re currently brushing mascara through his unfairly long lashes, but if anyone saw this without knowing the situation, chaos would likely unfold.

Although for you and Jisung, it's your average Friday night spent watching the weekly scary movie he’d decided on, Insidious. One he’d been commenting on for the past thirty minutes or so about how the “representation of demon’s was wrong” while you absentmindedly agreed, looping your index around the strand before abruptly stopping.

Residing slightly above his temple lay a scar, a decently sized scar at that.

Strangely enough, it's circular, like some type of horn or something had been there at some point. Maybe a biking incident?

"Ji?”

The boy's eyes drift up to you.

"What's this scar?"

Below you, he freezes, frantically thinking up the best excuse.

Lots of options, not a lot of time to decide.

"Ah.. that? When I was younger, I developed a weird kind of bump there, 'had it removed." And thankfully, you grunt a response, resorting back to applying his makeup.

Truth be told, those scars (another you hadn't seen yet) were his old horns, forced to be removed in order to initially land this job.

It still sends shivers down his spine thinking about when they had first been cut off, the recovery process resembling something out of nightmares.

Trust, the headaches were awful.

Chan, on the other hand, could keep his, considering he had the ability to conceal them on command. For Jisung, an inferior red-eyed demon with a few years beneath him and in such desperate need for income, chose the painful way through. As for his tail, that was luckily simple to hide (much to his pleasure).

Nevertheless, you could confidently say that your test-subject could easily land a modeling career after your makeover, and by the way he kept staring at the mirror, he seemed equally as enamored as you.

Well, that’s before a jumpscare leaps upon the screen and either of you shoot up, your clumsy companion whacking himself in the face with the mirror.

Staving your giggles, you try soothing the boy; you really do, but the uncannily gory scene that decorates the screen has you cringing back, and when you look at Jisung, expecting to find him cowering, your blood runs cold.

His lips are parted, but the only thing your horrified eyes are drawn to are the hooked canines peeking there. Not to mention his eyes.

Ghastly crimson, glowing.

Except when you breathe in an unsteady gasp, his head snaps to you, sudden facade appearing unaltered, like you hadn't seen something borderline terrifying.

Softly pulling your face close to him despite the screaming instinct to flee, he observes your bewildered expression, brows taut with concern.

“Y/n?”

Sweet tone contradicting, you immediately double backward toward your bedroom door, awkwardly honing the “I’m going to bed” excuse in hopes that suffices for the night.

Frenziedly closing the door, you determine rather quickly you don’t plan to go to sleep. Not that you think you could, but because this discovery isn’t normal.

None of this is normal.

How they found your location back at the alley despite Ha-joon never contacting anyone, how you “coincidentally” walked in on Chan “washing” his hands despite the water running red. Oh and you can’t forget about the rag left behind, putrid stench characteristic to a specific substance.

Blood.

You weren’t stupid. No father disappears the majority of the year on so-called “business trips” only to come back with new cuts and scratches he makes a sorry effort denying, and no daughter of his has literal bodyguards (yet you’re not sure they’re even official bodyguards thanks to your suspicions) glued to her side 24/7.

He does something dangerous, you know without doubt. But according to this hunch of yours, your father may not be the only one tied up in illegal madness.

.. .

Slipping into the car unknown to them was far easier than you anticipated.

You didn't plan on sneaking in in the first place, sure, but upon overhearing their hushed conversation regarding some type of “target”, you assumed whatever topic they were discussing may answer a select few of your billions of burning questions.

So, crouched in the floorboard of the backseat, you try muting your breathing, noting the clutter of metal sounding from your left, whatever responsible assumed to be shoved in the trunk.

Weapons. No mistaking it.

Your discovery is short-lived however, and you flatten yourself the best you can as Han twists around in his seat to grab something, already thirty minutes into your nearly secret mission.

Shit.

His shocked scream tells you enough.

Chan is fuming.

"Jisung, you told me she was asleep. So care to explain why the fuck she's in the back of the car?"

Han frantically flails. "For the record I told you she was lying down–”

"I. Don't. Care! She's not supposed to be here and all that matters right now is that she's at home and in bed, understood?"

As Jisung's lips pull into a tight line and Chan cranks the gear shift into drive, you glance around, a sudden–though risky–idea coming to mind.

"Hey, I could always tag along?"

"No!" They both shout in unison, heads jerking back to face you as if you suggested driving off a cliff.

That sounded much better in your head anyway.

Well there goes that.

Or so you thought.

Because unfortunately for them, wherever needed them needed them urgently, and through many clearly vocalized “she is staying in the car”’s, you weren’t driven home after all.

Fluorescent green lights cast an eerie glow across the perimeter, the location gnawing at your gut. An equestrian center by exterior, though there’s something else.

Wrong. You can’t explain it, but this place is wrong.

Discreetly unloading the guns, you skin crawls observing Chan messily stuff bullets into the magazine of a M240, the mere size of the thing setting your nerves ablaze. And as rightful asking questions seems, you can’t.

That feeling from earlier glues your mouth shut, like if you spoke too loudly, someone, something, would find you.

Thick foliage lay highlighted by your headlights, paving depth into sequential darkness.

You squint, zoning in on a small expanse of branches ajar. An ideal hiding spot.

Wait.

Bright flashes of iron spur your legs into motion, the switchblade cleaning slicing your wrist while mid-duck.

It forks into the car’s interior where the trunk had been opened, your cry of pain muffled by Jisung who basically throws himself inside a stall with you, the stomping of horse’s hooves muting your ragged breathing.

Firing belonging to none other than the machine gun Chan had been wielding pierces the air outside as either of you stay pressed to the stable wall, the pad of footsteps drawing nearer, causing your eyes to squeeze shut.

This is it. You’re going to die.

Much to your relief, it’s Chan, tactical holsters slightly torn, sweat beading his forehead.

The two share a look, remaining silent before delivering an eventual, affirming nod.

Short-lived.

An additional attacker sifts from the shadows, facial expression ushering no other logic than to kill.

Manic eyes, estranged eyes.

The older bodyguard spins, successfully blocking the first hit. Supplies are scattered everywhere, horses beginning to shift uncomfortably.

The perpetrator is faster, smaller, and lands a decent punch into his abdomen. However, the attack is futile, and just before he can stake his knife into Chan’s leg does the bigger man utilize his own weapon, ammunition positively bludgeoning every square inch of the assailant in baited seconds.

You understand why machine guns are strictly used for long range now.

Immediately, soft numbness floods your senses due to Han’s hands covering your eyes and ears, and you sit there for a while, blocked from the grotesque view of impalpable violence being enacted right before you.

You’d forgotten you were huddled together on the other side of the wall, too horrifically immersed.

It's strange. So much is strange.

These two men that you've grown effortlessly close to, grown effortlessly friends with, murder. Defensively in this case, yes, but they hadn’t brought those guns by chance, they brought them by intention.

Not just a twisted hobby like dissecting animals or something along those lines, but murder.

You’re sure they have their reasons, but it's difficult even imagining it. People who are extremely gentle when with you, responsible for such doings.

Talk about a duality.

The faint clatter of gun shells rattling against the marble flooring earns a subtle flinch, Jisung's hands cupping closer to your skin.

Then you smell it, what he'd warned you of no matter the cleanliness of the job.

A metallic, burning scent of blood, causing your nose to burn and your throat to grow increasingly dry.

Your stomach churns.

"You don't forget that smell" Chan had said before leaving the vehicle, and you knew what he was referring to now.

Putrid reek of rot and gunpowder beckon your lungs into fight or flight, but you remain still, ignoring the sharp sting of your wrist, bubbling blood dripping down your arm and onto the floor below, right atop your shoe.

Faint falling of bullet shells put an end to the fighting, then you’re blindly directed out the door without so much as a glance behind you. For your own good, you assume.

Hell, you’re not certain they’ll be much left of the bodies after Chan’s wrath.

As for right now, your top priority is your wrist. Swollen, skin tainted a grueling red shade.

Speeding home, you find yourself blurily recalling events, though all the little details simply swirl into strange shapes.

Shock is what it’s called. That state of monotonous wandering, occurrence too unfamiliar to take in, senses turning off. A coping mechanism of some sort.

Blearily you see the two men, talking, stepping out of the room, grabbing medical supplies. Like you’re in a time warp, dreaming. No pain, hurt.

On the other hand, your bodyguards were frantic, spewing curses and scouring the household for proper first aid materials.

Meanwhile, Chan was finally wrapping your wound in the bandages Jisung spotted, blinking madly in hopes his fogging headspace eased up.

Demons and wounds were not a good combination. Especially not human wounds.

Uncontrollable urges instructed him to tear you apart right this minute, do something, anything to quench that inexplicably demanding thirst.

Vulnerable, easy prey. His thoughts chanted, forcing him to step out of the room for a moment to where Jisung perched, close-pin fastened on his nose to block the mouth-watering smell.

“I’m losing my fucking mind,” He heaves, carding stressed fingers through matted hair.

“What, a little blood getting to a white-eyed demon?” His companion muses, hastily dodging Chan’s swinging fist. Immune to his threats.

It’s obvious to Jisung that’s only half of the story, but he’ll wait for his superior to admit it himself.

“It’s not just the blood,” He inhales deeply, gratefully accepting the water Han offered. “It’s her.”

Go figure.

To be honest, Jisung wasn’t good at pretending.

Well, in terms of lying he was a natural (a given, after all), but pretending he hadn’t caught onto his friend’s enormous attraction to you was technically impossible.

Quite surprising though, to think such an arrogant demon would’ve ended up like this.

Susceptible, willing. For a human.

Who would’ve thought.

.. .

It’s nothing short of a roller coaster regaining your stable consciousness. Chest wracking, world spinning. You’re situated in bed, injury carefully wrapped(though you can’t recall by who).

The doorknob rattles, and in walks Chan, except, you don’t feel happy, relieved.

Scared. You feel extremely scared.

“What- What are you?” Waver revealing your anxiousness, you curse the subtle tremble.

He smiles.

“Aren’t you a perceptive little one,” His voice dips lower, and as he edges closer, you find yourself pressing further into the pillow behind your head.

“I’m sure you’ve had your suspicions, so I’ll make it easy for you.” He lifts his curls, two perfectly placed horns residing there.

“We’re demons. He and I are different species, but both demons.”

Demons.

Instantaneously, a tidal wave or realization crashes salty water into your lungs, expertly piecing your observations together. Red eyes, horn-like scars.

How had you not caught on earlier?

Momentarily, you meet his eyes. Still brown, although you wonder how deep of a red they’d stain, glaze over stunning vermillion or dusky cinnamon tones.

“Species?”

He hums.

“Red-eyed are the best at persuasion, that’s Jisung. I’m a white-eyed demon.”

So neither crimson nor cinnamon, you decide. Perhaps pale, opal color.

“White-eyed demons are usually Satan’s lap dogs, but what lots of people don’t know,” You crane forward to hear his next words, and he leans in as well. “Is that we’re also the most desired species, the most lustful.”

Lustful.

The words don’t truly sink in, and by the time they do, it’s impossible to rip the mischievous look from his eyes.

"What’s that supposed to mean.." You grumble, avoid his darkening stare.

A subtle tap on your thigh has your attention immediately shfiting, your entire body instinctively jolting.

"You want me to show you?" He begins with a laugh, a low, husky laugh that has your stomach tying knots. Not the usual, squeaky laugh, but one that's different, very different. "But if you say yes, I’m sure no one else can satisfy you the way I can."

Your expression pinches with annoyance, a bit offed by his sudden cockiness.

Granted, he looks heaven-sent despite being a demon, and you doubt he'd be any different in bed, but c'mon now, you have a right to be suspicious.

"And how're you so sure of that?" Leaning back on your arms where he sits in front of you, you fixate on the way kinky locks perfectly line the crown of his head, one particularly messy strand tipping over to linger above chocolate pools for eyes.

"Sweetness, Jisung are I are carved out of sin, there's not a particle in our body not built to fuck."

God. Hearing "fuck" come out of his mouth shouldn't have been that attractive. Chan had always been well-mannered, well-spoken, so to hear him say something vulgar for the first time, nonetheless "fuck", effected you more than you'd like to admit.

Slowly, oh so slowly he crawls on the bed, kind tip of his head betraying sinful intent.

“You want this?” He whispers, and your arms immediately wrap around his neck, tugging him into your lips fervently, needily, with a short nod of approval between sighs and stifled groans.

Your wrist aches, but from how heated this kiss is becoming, that matter is the least of your problems.

He feels like fire, tastes like it, nectarine on your tongue.

You waste nimble time undressing, suppressing a high-pitched mewl the longer he sucks deep purple love bites into your neck and down your collarbones, likely to be bruised tomorrow.

He’s careful, learning your body, your sounds. Touch light as a feather, not enough.

He’s big, that’s a given. Head red and angry with thick beads of precum apparent, you can’t possibly think straight, his name the only sensible word falling off your swollen lips.

Chan Chan Chan.

Brows knitting as his fat head bumps your entrance, you murmur pleas, practically delusional on his pleasure, his love.

Most desired, you understand what he meant by that.

“Feel good? Yeah? That's a good girl."

You can feel your entire body keen at the praise, utterly blissful from how amazing he was making you feel.

The stretch of his fat cock has your common-sense threading dangerously thin, head falling back, fingernails raking his back. Delirious.

When he actually started moving? Yeah, you’re convinced you paid a visit to cloud nine, fucked-out brain recognizing only the squelch of your bodies connecting and the squeaky, absolutely desperate sounds he’s pulling from your throat.

Not to mention his voice, accent thickening tremendously the longer he ruined your drooling cunt.

His, his, his.

"Shit- you feel fuckin' divine," He kissed the sweaty skin of your calf hiked over his shoulder, ankle held by a strong hand while the other occupied your hip, squeezing and kneading with each heavy thrust.

Chan wasn't lying about being carved out of sin, fucking like an absolute animal to the point tears began welling in your eyes, overstimulated and euphoric beyond belief as your hands shakily reach upward.

Obediently, he lowers himself, letting you hold his face for some sense of security while feeling so vulnerable.

You pathetically search his eyes, head thrown back after one particular roll of his hips that earns a rumbling moan from the man.

Each time he bottoms out it feels like you're losing it, rubbing that gummy spot that makes your heels dig into his shoulders and your moans transform into high-pitched cries, shuddering.

"Channie- Oh fuck Channie- I can't It's too much-"

Practically gasping for air to ease the buzzing fuzziness blinding you, you cherish the equally mind-numbing kiss he soothes, pressure in your lower tummy building and building at a flying pace.

"Yes you can, bunny. 'Need to cum? C'mon, cum for me, 'atta girl." He tuts, slowing himself down with each squeeze of your cunt signaling your approaching release.

Torturous.

Nothing like this, never in all his life had he felt something like this. So delicate and fragile as you look up at him, glossy dolly eyes far too tempting.

At this point it was an obligation to stuff your pussy full.

Rolling your puffy nub in tight circles, your thighs twitch, gripping the pillow behind your head like a vice as the sharp knot in your stomach finally snaps and a near pornographic sound rips from your throat, back arching off the bed.

The sight of you has his eyes nearly rolling back, so ruined and angel-like. You're a white rose in a field of wilting grasses. Bloomed in his ill-fated fingertips.

His pants stifle, big hands holding the back of your thighs spread for him. His pace stutters, and with a gritted whine of your name he slams his hips, painting your aching cunt white.

The last thing he anticipated visiting the human realm was to find himself in this situation.

And whether he liked to admit it or not, if the Devil had your father wrapped around his finger, you had him tied up without a chance of escape.

So while you both scrambled to clean up your evidence and not fall over your own feet hearing Jisung clumsily drop a clattering frying pan in the kitchen, he thinks, if only for a second, he’d be okay with it.

Being yours, that is.

FIC TAGLIST. @y-ur--i @atinism @darknova2319 @producedbyhanjisung @knightoftime21 @leonswifesstuff

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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owliellder · 8 months

Text

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys

ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 5

The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.

Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.

They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?

Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.

Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.

Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.

He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable.

“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open?

“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her.

She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. “Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”

“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.

She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.

“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.”

“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”

“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”

You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.

The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.

You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?

When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.

He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.

You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.

“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.

“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”

To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well?

Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.

“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”

“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-”

Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again.

“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”

You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.

“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”

Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”

You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point.

There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.

You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.

There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.

Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.

“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.

“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”

Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”

“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)

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elexuscal · 1 year

Text

The "Top" fics in fandom are not the "Best"

I've seen a couple of posts here in there implying that the ways to find the best fics in fandoms are just to go to ao3, and sort by 'Most Kudoses', 'Most Bookmarks', 'Most Comments', etc. I've also seen some folks say they feel like their fics are failures if they don't make it to the front page(s), or at least near there.

But the simple fact: this is not true.

Now, I'm not saying that the top-rated fics in a fandom are bad.

Far from it! They're often very popular for a reason. Well written, fun dynamics, cool plots, etc. A lot of my own favourite fics have made it to the first page when you sort by "Most Kudos"-- but then, a lot of mine also haven't.

Why?

Because those selections are inherently biased.

What do I mean by that? Just that there are other factors influencing what stories accumulate the most comments/kudoses/etc in a fandom, meaning none of these serve as a neutral metric of quality.

I'm going to explain some of these biases briefly, just so folks get a sense of what I mean:

Age Bias This, I think, is the easiest to grasp. A fic that is three years old just has had more time to gain views than a fic that's three days old. Also, consider that pretty much any fandom needs time to grow. If you're in the first days/weeks/months of a fandom, there probably just isn't that much content being made. If there's only 10 fics on the archive, then 11th one stands out. It'll get a lot of attention. But if that same fic were to come out a couple years later, when there were 11 fics published in a single day, well, people are more likely to miss it. If you doubt me, take a look at the front page of 'Most Kudos' for a fandom of your choice. You'll probably see a lot of the stories there are on the older side- and this is exactly why.

Multi-Chapter Bias There are a lot of ways people find new fics to read, and one of the most basic is just: look at the front page of the most recent updates. Now, this way of sorting fics is exactly what it sounds like. A list of fics in order of when they were most recently posted/updated. But, obviously, if a fic has multiple chapters, it's going to appear on that front page way more often. A 50 chapter epic has 49 more chances to get seen this way than a one-shot. This issue becomes even more intense when you consider the Most Comments sort option. For a one shot, a person is probably likely to only comment once. Maybe if they really love the story and revisit, they'll leave a second or third. But multi-factor fics? By design, people come back every update. And that means a lot of people leave comments every single time. (Or at the very least, after big plot developments and twists!) This is what leads to long-running multi-chapter epics dominating the 'Most Comments' rankings in most fandoms.

Popular Pairing Bias Again, this is just obvious. Some pairings are more popular than others. A rare-pair fic can be just as soulful, hot, and well-written as a story featuring the fandom's powerhouse fic, but if only 30 people are interested, well... [shrug] Less people will click on it, kudos it, and leave a comment. To a lesser extent, you can expand this to any trope. 'Coffee Shop AUs' just seem to be more popular than, say, '1930s Mobster AUs'. That effects what tags people search, and what fics they find. But shipping is such an important element of many fandom cultures I thought it would be the most illustrative.

Positive Feedback Loop Bias And honestly, this is maybe the real clincher. Because I've established some of the things that can cause a story to start gathering lots of kudos, comments, and bookmarks in a first place. But once that starts, you get a positive feedback loop going. Because what's one of the first things a person does when they're looking for good stories in a fandom? They sort by 'Most Kudos'. And then they select the first story on the list, and they like it. So they leave a comment and kudos and... Yeaaaah.

So... What do we do about it?

Well. Nothing really. This isn't really a problem. It's just something to be aware of.

Any attempt to put metrics on something as subjective as art is going to fall short. So don't go rating the quality of your own stories about how well it performs, and don't go chasing those coveted top spots. You'll have a lot more fun if you just write stuff that you enjoy, make some friends, and recognise a lot of factors influence fanfic statistics beyond just quality.

Searching via most comments/kudoses/bookmarks remains one of the easiest and quickest ways to start diving into a new fandom. It's often the first things I do, and found stories I love that way.

That said: I highly encourage you to search for fics beyond just that method. Here are some of my suggestions if you want to figure out ways to get started:

Search up Fanfic Rec Lists. Lots of people put them on their blogs, and websites like TVTropes even have that as a whole feature

Ask for fic recs! Seriously! Post about it in the fandom's tumblr tag, join Discord communities, etc, and just say, "Hey, I'd love to read a story where... [insert the general themes, characters, or plot points you like". People will be EXCITED to share.

Search by specific tags Like, do you really, really love time loops? Search the 'Time Loop' tag in your favourite fandoms. A lot of specific tropes, AUs, etc. are canonized, so you can find a lot of stuff up your alley that way

Browse the most recently updated fics Yeah, I know, it's old school. But seriously, you can find some awesome stuff there-- including stories from new authors just starting out, who could really use a boost!

And hey... if you find some stories you like... Consider writing some fic recommendation lists of your own. Spread the love!

#fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #fandom

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laviefantasie · 5 months

Text

Patience

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Reader

Summary: It was just a childhood crush, right? If your heart skipped a beat every single time your eyes crossed or if your palms started to sweat with every lingering touch, it was just because of what you used to feel as a kid, right?

| Masterlist |

It was just a childhood crush. Nothing else. That’s what you’d heard all your life. And who could really blame you with how close you two had always been? No one. Truly, everyone around you both had expected one of you to grow a crush sooner or later.

You just wish it hadn’t been you. Everything would’ve been easier then. Cause nothing was worst than having a crush on THE Eren Jaeger.

If only he had never smiled your way maybe your heart would’ve been spared.

Tears started gathering in your eyes as you stared at your best friend dancing with another of your close friends. You couldn’t even find it in your heart to be mad. How could you when you knew how sweet and kind Historia was? You couldn’t blame Eren for choosing her, if there was ever really a choice to make.

You try to move your gaze away but all your strength was gone. It was as if your brain was unwilling to hide the truth from your heart, as if it had finally been enough.

A comforting arm settles itself across your shoulders and a body soon finds itself in front of you, shielding you from the heartbreaking scene.

“Don’t look, Y/N” you hear Armin say, he’s the one holding you safe under his arm.

“Let’s go home” says Mikasa, who’s shielding your view.

You can’t find your voice so you just nod weakly. Your best friends seem to understand though, and soon both are guiding you to the doors of your school gymnasium where the homecoming dance is being held.

Honestly, you knew this would happen someday. Eren had never shown any sign of reciprocating your feelings.

It still hurt though.

Armin and Mikasa keep quiet throughout the drive home, both allowing you to feel safe in their silence; neither asking you to voice how you’re feeling at the moment. You’re thankful for them, without them you’re not sure you’d even think about the possibility of mending your broken heart.

“You sure you don’t want us to stay with you tonight?”

You stare at them with a blank gaze, slowly shaking your head.

Mikasa and Armin share a look before nodding in understanding, promising to come check on you tomorrow. Waiting until you’re inside your home before even moving towards their car.

Only once you’re sure you’re safe inside your house and that they have left the driveway is that you allow yourself to crumble.

“Mom” you whimper “Mom! MOM!”

Your body is shaking and your voice is a dead giveaway that something is wrong, which makes your mother wake up alarmed and run downstairs.

The sight she is greeted with is one that breaks her heart in a way not even your father’s death could.

Your knees are wobbling and your whole body is trembling, it’s a miracle she reaches you in time before you fall down, gathering you safely in her arms as you allow yourself to break down for the first time that night.

“Shhh, sweetheart. It’s okay. Whatever happened it’s okay”

You sob, gut wrenching sobs that make your mother want to shed a few tears herself.

You spend the night in your mother’s arms, crying until sleep finally catches up to you. It’s your mother who greets Armin and Mikasa the next day, whispering how you need more time before you’re ready to see them. Both quietly explain the situation to your mom and she promises to let them know as soon as you’re ready to see them.

“Honey”

You hug your blanket tighter around your body.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart” she tries again, hugging you from behind “It was just a crush, it’ll be okay”

“It wasn’t a crush” you choke “Mom, I—I love him. I love him, mom”

Her eyes widen without your knowledge and she curses herself for not seeing it sooner. Of course it wasn’t a crush, at least not anymore.

The way you’d always cling to him since you were kids, the way you’d follow him everywhere, how you always helped him study so that he’d never fall behind, how you were at each of his basketball games screaming at the top of your lungs.

It may have started as a crush but you both had grown up, your feelings had grown too.

She should’ve seen it. You wouldn’t spend a whole night baking his favorite cake for his birthday when you could buy it just for a crush. You wouldn’t leave everything behind just to answer his call just for a crush. You wouldn’t be the first to clean his wounds after another of his stupid fights just for a crush.

You had fallen in love with him. With every part of him. Even the ones he, or anyone around him, was not proud of.

“Oh, honey” she soothes “It’ll be okay. You may not believe me, but you’ll be okay”

She sighs, holding you tighter.

“You’ll fall in love again” she promises “And it’ll be just as great and as painful as this time. But you’ll fall in love again”

“I don’t want this to hurt, mommy” you sob “Why does it have to hurt?”

“Because every feeling that made you go up has to come down sooner or later. Sweetie, the greater the love, the greater the pain. That’s the rule” she sighs “But it’ll be okay. You’re strong, you’ll get through this. You’re just one heartbreak closer to happily ever after, just have a little patience”

The next day, although still hurting, you get out of bed and answer Armin and Mikasa’s texts, asking them to come for a movie night. You ignored Eren’s.

JaegerBomb: Y/N you left homecoming early?? What happened?

JaegerBomb: You probably fell asleep. Text me when you wake up, doofus, got a lot to tell you.

JaegerBomb: Morning, sleeping beauty!!

JaegerBomb: Hey, I’m getting a little worried. U okay?

JaegerBomb; Y/N what’s going on?? Answer your phone.

JaegerBomb: I’m gonna file a missing person’s report!!

You hesitated before locking your phone. You weren’t going to answer. You couldn’t. Not because you were mad at him, you had no reason to be mad. You weren’t answering because you needed to move on. You couldn’t be there every time he texted anymore.

You had to stop being his person, cause you weren’t his.

Armin and Mikasa came to your house as planned and it was honestly what you had needed all that time. Having their shoulders to cry on was enough to mend your broken heart, at least a little. They made you laugh and smile in a way you didn’t think possible to do with the pain you felt.

You sometimes forgot that your life didn’t revolve around Eren. Being so used to always being at his side, to always call him whenever you were upset or happy, you’d sometimes forget that Mikasa and Armin always stood beside you through the path. Never once abandoning you. It was nice to be reminded of how much you still have, with how much your heart felt was losing.

Eren, meanwhile, was confused and worried. Carla, his mom, watched with a curious gaze as he paced back and forth in front of her, trying to argue with her about going to the police cause it wasn’t normal that you weren’t answering him.

“Eren, honey, she could be busy”

“No, mom, she always answers!” He almost screams “This is not normal! What if something happened to her? Mom, we have to go!”

It was truly an interesting sight. Eren who had grown up to hide his feelings behind a blank space was openly expressing his worry. Somehow you were always the one to let her catch a glimpse of her old sweet boy.

Carla sighs, “Can I at least call Y/M/N first? Just before you jump to conclusions?”

Eren grunts but nods. Carla sighs once more before grabbing her phone, dialing your mother’s number. Eren waits anxiously by her side, making her worry he’d run to the door any second with how fidgety he was.

“Hello. Carla?”

“Y/M/N! Hi! How are you?”

“Mom” Eren whines in a whisper, urging her to get to the point.

“Sorry to call, I just wanted to—”

A crash sounds through the phone, making both Jaeger’s jump.

“Y/N! What are you guys doing?” They hear your mom scream.

“Sorry, mom! I got scared and my bowl fell!”

Eren visibly relaxes in his place once your voice sounds through the phone. Carla eyes him with curiosity. He had his hand over his chest as if the relief of you not being in trouble was finally allowing him to breathe.

“Sorry, Carla. Y/N is watching some scary movie with Mikasa and Armin” she laughs “You know them, can never leave them unsupervised”

Eren straightens in his seat. Mikasa and Armin? You were with them?

He stopped listening to the conversation after that. Why weren’t you answering him? Since when did you text them before you texted him? Didn’t you know he’d worry? Even better, why didn’t you invite him? Didn’t you want him there?

That couldn’t be it. You never left his side. You were even more annoying than Mikasa when you were kids, always glued to his side. Although not as protective as the dark haired beauty, your presence was always clinging to his. That hadn’t changed throughout the years. You clung to him every step of the way. Always making sure to be at his side no matter what. Even when your grades were good enough to take higher classes, you stuck by him. Never going too fast, never going too slow; you always stood by him.

And he never pushed you away, not like he did with Mikasa. He never could.

He tries texting you again, thinking that maybe the texts hadn’t gone through. But he knows better. He just doesn’t want to know better.

When the weekend ends, Eren, for the first time ever, gets to school in time. Honestly, he just wanted to be there when you got there, not wanting to miss you by chance.

“Eren!” He hears Historia before she sees her “How was your weekend? I haven’t heard from you since the dance?”

“Huh?” Historia hugs him, but he’s too distracted scanning the hallway for you.

“Thank you so much” she smiles “I had a lot of fun. I was really sad Ymir couldn’t make it, but you help it be a fun night”

“Yeah. No problem”

Historia frowns confused, “You okay?”

“Have you seen Y/N?”

Historia tilts her head, “Yeah, she was by Calculus with Jea—woah! Where are you going?”

He’s out of her sight before she can even finish her sentence. All he could think about was seeing you.

He just didn’t expect to see you with Jean.

He stopped midway. His heart tightens as he sees you laugh happily because of something Jean just said. His fist clenches when he sees the way Jean is smiling at you.

He didn’t like the way Jean was looking at you.

The bell rings and he moves fast, scared to lose you from his sight, as you walk to your class. Imagine his surprise when he goes in to find you sitting with Jean. He frozed for a second. Was he still dreaming? You always sat with him. Always had. What was going on?

“Y/N?”

You look up from your notebook to see Eren looking like kicked puppy in front of you. He looked lost. Which was weird. Never had you ever seen that expression on his face.

Jean, who’s at you side, frowns in bewilderment. He didn’t remember the last time Eren had shown so much emotion.

“Eren” you whisper before smiling faintly “H-hi, I didn’t see you come in”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

Your teacher comes in before he can open his mouth again and he soon is obligated to sit behind you with Marco.

His jaw clenches. He didn’t understand. Had he done something wrong? Why were you not sitting with him? Why even though you smiled at him did he feel you so distant? Why did it hurt him so much to see you smiling and whispering with Jean when he knows he is your friend?

He didn’t really pay attention to anything their teacher said, too lost in his own thoughts to even bother caring.

The bell rings and he jumps off his seat, but before he can catch you someone grabs his arm.

“Mikasa” he moves his arm but she doesn’t let him go “Mikasa, let go”

“Leave her alone, Eren”

He looks at her with no expression, though the girl for a second could see how his eyebrow twitched.

“I need to talk to her”

“Her world doesn’t revolve around you” she scoffs “So don’t act like it does”

“What do you mean?”

“Weren’t you just about to go ask her why she didn’t sit with you?” She raises a brow “She doesn’t have to be at your side 24/7”

He hates that she knows him so well. Hates even more that she is right. You don’t owe him anything, you can sit with whoever you want. So why did he felt the need for one?

He jerks his arm off Mikasa’s grip and scoffs. Maybe you just wanted to talk to Jean, things would go back to normal soon enough.

At lunch you didn’t say by him either, you sat in between Sasha and Mikasa. Laughing loudly while sharing your lunch with Braus. He naively waited for you to hand him the chocolate chip cookie you always made for him, yet this time you didn’t.

And it went on for two months.

He couldn’t handle it anymore. 62 days of agony waiting for you to turn to look at him first, just to never do it. 62 days of waiting hours before you text him back. 62 days of seeing you sit with everyone but him. 62 days of wondering if you’ll show up or not at his game. 62 days of being invited to movie nights at your house by Mikasa or Armin, never by you.

He couldn’t bare it anymore and it didn’t take long for his friends to notice. Emotionless and unbothered Eren Jaeger jumping out of his seat every single time you entered the room. Eren Jaeger who cannot stop clenching his fist and moving his leg when you haven’t made an appearance. Eren Jaeger who looks like a lost child every single time you don’t give him his attention.

They honestly grew tired of it.

“You need to talk to him”

You blink, confused, at Armin, “what?”

“It’s been two months, Y/N, and he looks like a kicked puppy. You need to talk to him”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Just let him know you’re still friends. That you’re not mad at him” he sighs “Things don’t have to go back to how they were, but he deserves to know he did nothing wrong. He can’t stop pouting and, honestly, I feel kinda sorry for him”

You sigh. Armin is right, as always. It wasn’t fair for Eren, who is your best friend, to feel like he has done something wrong when he truly hasn’t. You needed to make things right. You needed to salvage your friendship with him.

That’s why you come to school the next day with a box of the homemade chocolate cupcakes he loves so much.

That’s why you stand in front of your school’s doors waiting for him to arrive.

Your heart clenches with how defeated he looks once he does. And when your eyes find one another, you can physically see the hope and relief that he feels.

“Y/N” he sighs.

“Eren” you smile “I, uh… I wanted to apologize. I know I’ve been a little distant lately and—”

“Why?” He begs “Why have you been distant?”

You open and close your mouth, your finger tightening around the box in your hands. You had to be honest. You had to voice what you had silenced for so long. That way you would be able to move on, that way he’d understand why you needed to keep him at arm’s length.

“I, uh, um… I sa-saw you and His-Historia at the dance” you clear your throat “It wasn’t your fault! I swear I’m not mad and I never was! It’s just—it just hurt… that’s why I needed space. I liked you and it hurt”

You sigh, and extend the box towards him before slightly bowing your head.

“I’m sorry!”

You stay with your head down for a few seconds. He doesn’t move nor answers and it makes you wonder if he is mad you didn’t just tell him sooner, if he thinks you’re immature for not talking to him before so he could understand.

You feel the box being taken from your hands and before you can react you feel him lower his body, making you stand straight. Yet his face still falls on your shoulder. You feel his body relax as soon as it comes in contact with yours, and you feel him breathe in relief once he can feel your lavender scent. You don’t move, you don’t know exactly what to do in that moment. Does this mean he understands? Does it mean he is not mad? Are you both okay?

“I missed you” he whispers “I missed you so much”

“I—I missed you too, Eren”

“Never do that again” he begs softly “Please. Never leave me again”

“I, uh—I won’t”

“It’s you, Y/N” he continues “It’s always been you”

Your heart beats loudly in your chest at the declaration, yet confusion follows.

“But Histo—?”

“Historia was just sad Ymir couldn’t make it to the dance” he explains softly “I went to help her forget about it for a while”

“Oh”

“It’s you, Y/N. Always has been, always will be” he continues “Promise not to give up on me? Please. I just—please, don’t leave me”

You find yourself wrapping your arms around him, and he hides his face on your neck with content and relief.

“I promise”

The next time your friends see you both, you’re no longer clinging to him. Instead, Eren has his arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him. And, for the first time in a long time, he is smiling. That boyish smile they had all missed.

Your mom had been right. It was just one heartbreak before your happily ever after. She just didn’t know it would be the same person who’d mend it.

You just had to have a little patience.

#eren yaeger aot #eren yeager x oc #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x oc #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren aot #eren x reader #erenjaeger #eren yeager #eren jaeger x femreader #mikasa aot #aot x reader #aot #attackontitan #attack on titan #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert

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cpericardium · 1 month

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So! I've gotten a host of messages and asks regarding recent disk horse and I wanted to address them as a collective. I know I have anon asks off, I won't share your URLs, but I do want to thank you for asking and clarifying some of the frankly vile things people have been saying about me, my girlfriend, and friends. I value those of you who offered your words of support, and didn't jump to believe screenshots taken out of context and lies written with the utmost confidence and none of the facts. I am a little tired of having my morals questioned and my views conflated with every single person I associate with, but there it goes.

Some questions and answers under the cut. Feel free to continue asking and I'll do my best to answer.

tumblr user cpericardium suspiciously silent on the subject of Gaza: does this mean you support ethnic cleansing???

My reticence when it comes to posting about topics like I/P is because:

-This is a fandom blog intended for lighter topics, except maybe the occasional vent about life stuff, which I usually hide under a cut. I don't have sideblogs. They seem tough to maintain and I don't post nearly enough to justify it. If I were to make one it would be for another fandom or maybe just the freakier bugs. I simply prefer my social media experience to be stress-free.

-Anti-slacktivism. It's a documented thing: posting about an issue makes you feel like you're doing something, you get that little shot of dopamine, so you don't actually go out and do something that effects meaningful change. I'm trying to do less of that. I'm good with the friends and people I follow who choose to post about it and this is a strictly personal belief, but when I engage in activism, it is offline or it is a donation. You're not going to hear about it.

But don't you reblog lgbt and women's rights posts?

Yeah, and that's usually when I want to save a post for one reason or another (e.g. to talk about with someone on discord later). The bottom line is that the main purpose of my blog is not to post political takes or to spread awareness of anything. It is just a collection of my interests (fan stuff, bugs) and hopefully a way to share those interests with like-minded people.

I will state my views clearly for the record: I support Palestine. The ongoing genocide is heartbreaking and so is the violence against protestors. Additionally, I am against antisemitism and the harassment of Jewish people in the name of supporting Palestine. This shouldn't even need to be said.

Is your girlfriend a Zionist?

No.

Does she support Zionists?

No.

Wasn't she in the military?

Yes, years ago.

But the military is evil?

It is. She's extremely hardcore anti-war, does not believe the US should even have an army, and actively PMs strangers on reddit to try to convince them to not make the same mistake. If they're dead set anyway, she gives them detailed advice on how to survive. Because she actually cares about the human cost of war, not the social clout gained from shunning or sneering at people who make wrongheaded choices. I have seen her doing this, seen her seeking to understand their reasons for joining so she can systematically explain—from personal experience!—why they're not going to get any of that out of the army. It is a hell of a lot more effective than bitching them out or writing callout posts or starting whisper campaigns about them. She cannot delete those years of her life no matter how much she regrets them. There is only forward. I think we can all agree on that.

But what about all those things she said. "I regret nothing, I have no qualms, VA nipple money etc."

Well you have to understand that while of generally upright character, she is a bit of a scamp. She believes she fundamentally should not have to explain herself to randos who do not know her, who have never, not once, interacted with her, who are clearly digging for dirt and will twist anything she says no matter how banal. People see what they want to see and they look for evidence to reinforce their preconceptions; they'll go so far as to make alts to join servers, cherry-pick screencaps, crop them, and conveniently fill in the rest of the narrative for curious onlookers. So she decided to exaggerate and amplify and twirl her mustache like a supervillain. Give them a show, as it were.

To be clear, I'm not sold on this strat because it makes her look cartoonishly evil to people who can't understand sarcasm and hyperbole. But her friends and I are aware of her actual beliefs and also that she did not in fact do those things people imagine she did. And isn't that what matters? Real-life harm? Do you even care?

Re: screenshots/so-called proof from shakertwelve & lakesbian's "callouts"

Girlfriend addresses them here.

#politics #wormblr #if you're not from wormblr #nothin to see here just scroll past

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coryoskywalker · 7 months

Text

Save Me (Part two) Young! Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Description: Coriolanus and Reader finally admit their feelings. But at what cost?

Ps I also wrote this half asleep again so it’s not perfect like at all.

Coriolanus Snow kept his distance from yourself for the next few weeks. He didn't want to make them uncomfortable after spilling everything to you, but he couldn't deny the feeling in his heart. He wanted to spend more time with you. He couldn't explain what was happening to him, what this feeling in his heart was, and it was frustrating for him. So he kept his distance from you, hoping that perhaps, they would say something or come to him.

You had always been the perfect kid in your parents' eyes. You never gave them a reason to be upset and in turn, they wanted the best. That's why when they saw you couldn't find a suitor for yourself they stepped in and started arranging marriages like the good Capitol citizens they were. You felt so tired - all you wanted was a way out of her parents' clutches. But for now, you had to sit back and watch the suitors come into their home and beg for your hand in marriage.

You had to watch from the corner of the room as potential suitors came one by one to meet with you and your parents. You hated every bit of it. It was as if you had no choice. It didn't feel like people were asking for your hand because they wanted you, it felt like they wished to be tied to a family that was seen as prestigious. For weeks, this went on, each time leaving yourself feeling numb and dead. You wanted to run away, to tell your parents no but didn't know how.

Coriolanus was all you thought about. The past weeks had felt like forever. There wasn't a single day that you didn't think of Coriolanus, wondering what he did and where he could be. You felt like there was a small chance he liked you back, although you weren’t too sure. You had to be careful though since your mother and father often asked what you were thinking about. At first, the answer would be about nothing, but it quickly became, 'Coriolanus Snow'.

At first, you couldn't believe you were thinking a lot about Coriolanus Snow. He was never someone you had thought about, let alone be fascinated with. But you found herself always thinking of how you wanted to speak with him again. To tell him how you felt about him. You had never felt this way before and wasn't sure what it meant. But one thing was for sure -you wanted to see Coriolanus Snow again.

———————————————————————————

As you stood outside Coriolanus' door. You were feeling so awkward right now and a small part of you was regretting ever coming here. But you couldn't turn back now. You knocked on the door and waited for any response. Your heart was racing right now, you could feel your heart pounding in your ears. You didn't know what to do, what to say. Only a blank canvas was painted on your mind.

As you knocked on the door, the sound of footsteps were getting closer as Coriolanus opened the door. He looked at you and his face was blank for a moment. He hadn't expected to see yourself here, but then again, it would have been worse had you sent him a letter. Coriolanus stepped aside and opened the door fully. "Come in." He said. When you stepped into his apartment, closing the door behind you inhaled a deep breath as Coriolanus stepped back to observe you.

Coriolanus looked at you, seeing that you were nervous now. But how could you not be? You had just came unannounced to his apartment, something out of your own volition. "It's alright." He said calmly. "Is... there something you need?" He asked, noticing that you probably had a reason for coming here.

You paused for a moment unable to form any words. You sighed before admitting to him the cause of this late night interaction.

“My parents Coryo, they want me to have an arranged marriage assuming I’m not capable to find my respective suitor. They’re interviewing many suitors as we speak at home…I just couldn’t do it, I couldn’t stay in that house any longer”. You told him.

Coriolanus stared at your face, letting his face go blank as soon as you admitted those words. Did he heard right? "An arranged marriage?" He asked softly. Something in him felt... strange at the mention of you having an arranged marriage. He wasn't sure what it was. Did he feel jealous? "Who are they making you marry?" He asked, looking into your eyes.

“I don’t know”. You shamelessly admit.

Coriolanus wanted to curse and shout when he heard your words. You couldn't have an arranged marriage. You were too smart and beautiful to be tied to some suitor just so your family could gain a good reputation. It felt wrong and cruel. Was your father just using you as a bargaining chip? Did he not care for your as a child, but rather see you as a way to gain power? Coriolanus felt a pang of shame as he thought about it. "Do you want to stay with me?" He asked.

“Are you sure?” You said with uncertainty.

Coriolanus looked at you, seeing now how worried you were. You were always a confident person, always knew what to do, always calm. But now you looked broken, tired and scared. He had no idea that you even could look that way. "Of course. You can stay as long as you want." Coriolanus said, his voice almost sounding soft.

Coriolanus watched as you stepped in and shut the door behind. Now, they were alone in this quiet apartment. It was just the two of them. Coriolanus couldn't help but feel a bit weird. You had never been to his apartment before and now... he felt a bit strange now that you’re in his home. He didn't knew what to say, how to act. All he could do was to look at you, who was now sitting on a chair, arms wrapped around your body.

Coriolanus went and grabbed a blanket, covering your cold body as they sat in the living room. The silence felt heavy and he wasn't sure what to say. Suddenly, they turned their head and their gaze met. Your eyes were soft, your face looked drained and dead tired. Coriolanus didn't spoke, he just looked at you. What was he supposed to say? They were alone, the silence was eating him alive as he felt his heart pounding. For a moment, Coriolanus felt like he could kiss you.

Coriolanus Snow looked at you, their gazes meeting yet again. He wanted to tell them how he felt since the day he met you. He wanted to hold you so close that all fear and anxiety would dissappear.

“Is this real?” Coriolanus questioned. Your eyes widen at his question, immediately understanding his question. Yes, yes it felt very much real to you but you didn’t know how to tell him. How to tell Coriolanus how much you liked, no, loved him.

"Please, assure me that what I'm feeling is real. The mere thought of not being by your side torments me. Knowing about your arranged marriage, I can't bear the uncertainty. I'm ready to risk it all for the chance to be with you," Coriolanus pleaded, holding your hand gently against his chest.

"Coryo, I... I'm at a loss for words," you stammered, unable to express your emotions. Sensing his disappointment, Coriolanus released your hand and took a step back. Panicking at the possibility of him misunderstanding, you seized his hand and pulled him close, silencing his doubts with a passionate kiss.

Little did they realize that fate had already woven the threads of their tragic tale, and every stolen glance, touch and kiss was a step closer to their inevitable downfall.

#coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader #the hunger games #tbosbas #Spotify

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mykoreanlove · 8 months

Text

we can't date

“Changbin, come on. I am serious.”

He had his hands on your hips and his lips on your throat, leaving traces of him everywhere.

“Mmhmm”, he hummed velvety, not even considering stopping anytime soon. God damn it, he made it so hard on you. How the hell were you supposed to resist him if he pampered you in adoration like that?

“Bin, you need to stop.”

His hands slid onto your thighs, slightly squeezing while he was whispering lowly into your ear.

“Do you really want me to?” Your aroused body answered way before you could as you threw your head back in enjoyment, anticipating what would come next. He took your reaction as confirmation to proceed and slid his hand upwards, stopping right before your core. Having him touch you felt so good, god. You wanted him to touch you more. You simply wanted him– badly. He watched you fight your urge with a smirk on his lips, maliciously deciding to make it even harder on you. His slender fingers pushed your soaked panties aside and played with your pulsating clit. Changbin sucked in his breath as he continued praising you further.

“Damn baby, look how wet you are. Only because of me? You make it so easy for me to slide my fingers in. Watch.” And with that he did. You moaned in excitement as you felt him stretch you finger by finger, feeling better and better with each additional digit of his.

“You take me so well, baby”, he whispered in your ear. “Can’t wait to finally do that to you while calling you my girl.”

Your eyes shot open as you froze up instantly. You pushed his hand aside and got off the couch. Frantically, you ran around your living room, clasping your hair while trying to think straight. Changbin however remained calm, he knew that this subject triggered the hell out of you. Normally you would dodge his questions about exclusivity and commitment but this time he had you right where he wanted you – trapped in your own excuses.

“Y/N, take a seat and calm down, okay?”

You stopped running in circles and looked at him. There he was – every woman’s dream was sitting on your couch trying to get you to calm down so you could work this out together. Why wasn’t he running away? How come he was this patient with you? You knew you were acting ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. He looked at you and patted the couch’s seat right next to him.

“Come sit with me?” He was pouting, leaving you no choice.

You obliged.

“Y/N, do you like me?” You nodded your head in agreement. “I mean, do you really like me? Like romantically?” You nodded again. “Great, I do, too. So why don’t you want to be my girlfriend?” You fiddled with your hands, too nervous to form a clear sentence. You felt his rough hands on yours, squeezing them lightly while smiling warmly at you. “Don’t be afraid. You can talk to me, okay?”

You took a deep breath before coming clean. “I like you, that’s true. But you and I, we cannot date, Changbin.” You had practiced this speech in the mirror for days – back then you sounded assertive and sure of yourself. Right now, however? Not so much. You sounded fearful and rather pathetic.

“I got that but why?” With a shaky voice and even shakier fingers you tried to explain yourself.

“There are multiple reasons, really…” Changbin’s eyes lit up – always eager for a challenge, he was ready to dismiss every single reason of yours. “Name one.”

You huffed out in annoyance. “We can’t date because I’m not ready.” “Ready?” “Yeah, ready. I still have tons of weight to lose, I need to get stronger and leaner, and my curves are barely visible, and I should be sexier, but those hourglass workouts didn’t really work for me and I-”

Your “Everything that’s wrong with me”-monologue got interrupted by the vigorous laughter of the boy next to you. You felt yourself getting angry - why was he laughing at you?

“Y/N, are you for real right now?” His face fell silent as he realized that you were dead serious.

“Oh shit, you are. Listen to me. I love your body. I think you’re sexy as fuck! I love your lean legs and your thick booty. I love that you have fat on your body – I don’t wanna fuck a skeleton. Your tummy fat is cute! I can lay my head on your tummy and hear you breathe – it’s so comfortable! I really, really like doing that. And besides, I don’t like you because of your body. Well, I mean partially yes, but I like you for you. I want to be with you because of who you are.”

“But you don’t know all of me!” Changbin took your hand into his and drew small circles on it.

“I don’t know all of you, correct. But what I do know so far is pretty damn impressive. And I would like to get to know the rest as well. Why won’t you let me see all of you?”

You teared up – being touched and terrified simultaneously. “Because I’m flawed.” It was hurting him copiously to see you like that. How could someone as incredible as you think you were flawed? “Y/N, can I hug you?” You nodded your head, silently.

“Baby, why do you think you’re flawed?” You grabbed the fabric of his shirt tightly, talking into his chiseled chest, not ready to face him.

“There are parts of me that are ugly. A couple of years ago I had to face some health struggles and those are with me, still. It’s not a deadly condition or anything like that but I’m ashamed. I’m mortified of my body and the condition it is in.” You looked up at him, tears straining not only his shirt but also your cheeks.

“How could you want me if I’m not perfect?” Changbin took your face into his big hands and kissed you tenderly.

“I want you precisely because you are not perfect, y/n. I don’t want you to be perfect. I just want you to be you. That’s more than enough for me – just be you.”

He wiped away your remaining tears and smiled at you. “I won’t pretend knowing what you’re going through health wise, but I want you to know this. Your body is working for you, even if doesn’t seem like that sometimes. Don’t be ashamed of it – or you. I will hold your hand and dry your tears when you are in pain, and I will buy you chocolate and candy when you need a boost of dopamine. Don’t think you have to face all of this alone.”

“But don’t you think I’m weak?” He shook his head in bewilderment. “No, not at all. I think you are tough. Look how much this is affecting you, yet you’re still going strong and not giving up on you – or life. You have immense strength in you, y/n. I admire that.” He placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You did not anticipate these sweet words – you prepared yourself for rejection instead. His words gave you courage and warmed your heart, even eliciting a coy smile on your lips.

“So, not only are reason one and two invalid, but they also won’t keep me from dating you. What else do you got?” He dodged your side playfully. You chuckled in response, realizing that talking about your fears wasn’t so horrible after all.

“Reason three, right. We can’t date because I’m insecure. And I get jealous easily. I always worry that you will find someone else, someone better than me. And girls are hitting on you all the time – how can I keep up with that? One day you’re not texting me enough and I’m losing it. The next moment I see you out with a colleague of yours and torture myself by thinking you’re going to cheat on me. We’re going to fight all the time because of my insecurities, and I don’t want that, Bin.”

He remained silent for a while.

“Do you know what makes a secure person?” You paused, not understanding where he was going with this.

“A secure person knows of her worth and value. And baby don’t hate me for saying this, but you could definitely evolve in that area. But you don’t have to do it on your own. So, I’m gonna reassure you every time you feel insecure. I will send you hourlong recordings declaring my love for you, and I will write you thousands of pages with all the reasons why I fell for you, and I will smother you in love until you believe me. I will chase down every single insecurity of yours until you finally understand how wonderful you are. But I need you to work with me, okay?”

You teared up again. Was he serious? Was he really not abandoning you like a stray dog? He was choosing you even if you were a mess like this?

“Okay? Promise me.” Changbin held out his pinky, waiting on you to pledge your cooperation. You held your pinky out as well and promised him. “Okay”, you whispered.

He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back on the sofa, feeling relieved and joyous.

“So, I’ve shattered all your stupid reasons, huh?” You smiled sadly. “No, one is still left.” He shot up instantly.

“Oh? Alright. Let’s meet the final boss, then.” You chuckled at his easiness, once again admiring his confidence. You took a deep breath before saying the final words, knowing that those would make him leave for good.

“Bin, I don’t want to date you.”

The saddened look on his face pained your heart tremendously. Up to now Changbin had never considered that the reason for you denying him was because of you not desiring him. At least not in the way that he was desiring you.

Why was this so complicated? How did everyone else make this work so easily?

“Is that it? You simply don’t want to date me?” His tone was cold, shut off even.

You nodded remorseful.

“Yeah.”

He was processing a lot of emotions; you could tell by his body language. He got up and grabbed his stuff.

“Okay, then. You don’t have to.” You watched him get out of the room, grabbing his sneakers and leave your apartment for good. You ran after him but hesitated at your door, breaking down and crying incessantly.

Did you really not want to?

No. But you had no other choice. Because even after everything he said, even after everything you heard him promise you, you still couldn’t shake the fear of him abandoning you. You couldn’t get the nagging voice that was living in the back of your mind out of your head. This was what always happened, and this time would be no exception. Abandonment was a part of you, it was circling in your blood. They always promised you the world but hurt you in the end. They always left, hence you could not risk losing your heart like that again.

Even if it felt like you already did.

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vasito-de-leche · 27 days

Note

Do you have any specific queer headcannons of r1999 characters if so which ones and why?

I wrote a bunch of stuff for this post but then tumblr fucked me up and reloaded without saving it so here we are..... rewriting it all over again ... OAUGH. usually I default to seeing everyone as Vaguely Bisexual and Not Cis until stated otherwise, but you asked for specifics so here we go!

6 is aromantic or demiromantic.

On one hand, it's because I love projecting on my faves. On the other hand, it's because he genuinely doesn't feel like the type of person to be interested in relationships. But this isn't something that's tied to any potential disgust, repulsion or even trauma related to his Revelation and struggle against fate -- to me, 6 just doesn't feel romantic attraction. At the very least, nothing strong enough to consider pursuing. It's not in his priorities. I really dislike this specific thing that fandoms do in which every single character who is introverted, or who happens to be alone/isolated (either by chance or by choice) is secretly lonely, touch starved, pining and desperate for attention and romantic love. It feels like such a huge disrespect for their equally important platonic or familial relationships. 6 already holds a lot of love for his own community and his childhood friends, a type of affection that is shown in his subtle and unique ways. I like it when his character focuses on those aspects instead!

Mesmer Jr. is aromantic and asexual.

In her case, she's the opposite of 6. Mesmer Jr.'s trauma and OCD is much too intense for her to even consider the idea of an emotional or physical bond with anyone. She's disgusted at the idea of touching others so casually, and she's afraid at the possibility of allowing a person (someone she logically cannot have any control over) into her life because what if they throw her off her schedule? What if they mess every meticulous thing she's planned for herself and her mental stability? What if she loses her grip? Yes, it's plausible that she may find a partner who works perfectly with the way she needs things to be, and yes, you can headcanon that she heals and her OCD becomes "manageable" enough to have a stable relationship, but personally? I just like it when characters don't get to have stereotypical happy endings in which everything gets better through love and friendship and support -- like, yeah everyone loves to see their faves happy and all but eh... It's a bit of projection on my part! Some people don't get to heal and do all the things their disabilities prevented them from doing, even if we're given all this support and love. Some of us just have to find ways around these things, anything that works for us that makes our lives easier.

Sweetheart is queer but has a complex relationship with love. In a somewhat similar vein, Blonney has gone through every single letter of the LGTBQ+ community.

I tried my best to explain my thoughts on Sweetheart but at this point she deserves her own post because it's honestly a LOT, this single part was just too long so I cut it out entirely. Just trust me when I say she's queer and has a very complex relationship with love. In Blonney's case, we discussed the possibility of her being written as comphet and it got me to think a little about her. I see Blonney as the type of girl who presents as a straight bimbo, following the themes of her character and all, but who has constant crisis after crisis in the privacy of her bedroom, the only place she's allowed to be more than just a blondie. This constant journey questioning her orientations and gender happens entirely in her head and in private. I like to think that she just has these long monologues in her head. Sure, she's identified as straight her whole life, but maybe bisexual works better because there was that one girl she kept meeting under the bleachers. Oh, but maybe she's a lesbian, since all her boyfriends are just huge disappointments and none of them ever make her truly happy. Oh, but maybe that's just because she has bad taste in men, there was that one guy in class who keeps making her laugh after all. Ahh, this would be so much easier if she were a guy, her femininity is mostly performative after all. Ah, but she actually really loves pink and fashion... Nonbinary then? No, she's not the type to pick something so vague, it's one or the other. Oh, how about both? Genderfluid! Etc etc. If you ask her about how she identifies, she'll simply brush you off with a "What's it to you? That's none of your business, creep!" and move on, but this is something very personal to her. So far, she knows she likes being femme presenting and that she likes Jessica!

Eagle is a trans girl.

Have you guys seen those posts going around tumblr about how important it is that trans women exist because they fight for their own womanhood and girlhood in a world that constantly looks down upon feminine things and all women as a whole? Yeah. Yeah. Eagle being a scout that fights so hard to prove herself, the feelings of not belonging into the Boy Scouts and seeing how the Girl Scouts are created eventually, a space for her. The fact that she visits her father's grave so that he can see her grow up.

Kaalaa Baunaa, Oliver Fog, Medicine Pocket and Melania are probably bisexual, but they're super busy with work so they don't have time to address that.

Self-explanatory <3 I do like to think that Kaalaa and Medpoc are more chill about it, Kaalaa because she's a grown ass woman who is very mature, and Medpoc because they genuinely give no fucking shits about dating in general, so who cares about confirming whether they're bisexual or not. Oliver Fog is a little more flustered at the idea of exploring his orientation and whatnot, but it's tolerable. BUT MELANIA? I LOVE to think that she's FULLY aware that the MOMENT she acknowledges her bisexuality, she will have a crisis and then what will she do? She has 3 papers due next week and a heist this weekend, she can't possibly sit there wondering about liking girls! She's got things to do!

And here's the extra round of HCs that don't require that much text to explain or that lean towards being more silly!

Eternity has literally outlived the concept of gender. She/They royalty.

37 has QRPs instead. It Just Works. No one but herself and her partners understand the dynamics, though. As god intended <3

APPLe is a raging bisexual and has been spotted in many gay bars. Regulus is also bisexual.

The world would've been a better place if Bette was a butch lesbian.

Balloon Party and An-An Lee play with gender like its playdough.

Baby Blue is Not Cis and she's Not Straight either because none of that shit matters to her anymore, since she's been disconnected from reality and society for so long. She also doesn't care about labelling herself.

Diggers is trans, but no one can figure out which way exactly. It doesn't help that he refuses to clarify either. The same thing happens with John Titor, except she's very vocal about being a transwoman.

Bunny Bunny is bisexual but she hasn't realized this yet. In similar fashion, Horropedia is bisexual but he just forgets about it sometimes.

Druvis III as a trans woman goes hand in hand with Forget Me Not as a gay man. This is why they're both super divorced.

Leilani is pansexual because she prefers the colors of that specific flag over the bisexual one. Spathodea is pansexual because the personal distinction between pansexuality and bisexuality matters to her.

Tennant is bisexual because she can scam and seduce more people that way.

The Fool is nonbinary. Mf should've been born in the 2020's, I just KNOW he would've loved mirrorgender.

Zima is in the closet not out of shame but out of safety. Just in case.

Sotheby assumes that every girl in the world likes girls. So far no one has been able to prove her wrong because all she does is interact with other sapphic girls.

Pavia is nonbinary out of spite. But I also love transguy Pavia HCs so so so much, give that guy boobs, he would never get top surgery <3

Vertin is nonbinary too but she doesn't care about people knowing about it. She does, however, make the effort to be a little androgynous, as a treat for herself.

Madam Z and Katz absolutely had a Situationship going on during university. Katz was bicurious and Madam Z helped her experiment. Now the Situationship is between Madam Z and Constantine, the latter using Madam Z as a rebound after fumbling her relationship with Vertin's mother <- the machinations in my brain will astonish you.

TTT is genderfluid by virtue of being a picture on a TV, so I like to think she can just shift her appearance. In similar fashion, gender means nothing to Alien T and Voyager because they're aliens.

I specifically love the idea of all of the 1.2 gang joking about how Tooth Fairy is their token straight adult figure -- she's actually bi and asexual, but likes to keep that to herself so the kids can make their little jokes and have fun.

Enigma is gay and homophobic because his self-loathing is just that strong.

Turns out that the push Click needed to explore his own sexuality was getting killed on the battlefield, so now he's free to be gay. perhaps bicurious.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 headcanons #in my mind ezra is the token straight cis guy of the suitcase #but if you leave him for a few months with the gang hes eventually gonna realize that being nonbinary is banger actually

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sunboki · 7 months

Text

⎯ THE DEVIL'S PLAYTHING (TEASER) a Christopher Bahng fiction

💣 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. bodyguard au, demon au, friends to lovers, eventual smut, minors DNI

WORD COUNT. estimated to be around 5-6k words

WARNINGS. chan & han are demons(NO POLY), mentions of lucifer/the devil, eventual smut, violence, cursing

PLAYLIST.

AUG'S NOTES. i promised ya’ll bodyguard chan would be back.. your wish is my command~

or alternatively :

When Chan had to leave Hell to "babysit" (a.k.a. protect) you in the human realm, he wasn’t expecting for things to turn out the way they did — in more ways than one.

There’s an infinite list of reasons why humans shouldn’t associate with demons. But was it really all that important? Maybe the humans wanted it.

Or, maybe the demons did too.

Maybe, the demons didn’t have a choice.

What a funny thought.

Although, for Christopher Bahng, a demon himself, it was reality.

So the real question stood. Is it the humans that shouldn’t associate with demons, or the other way around?

Demons were an ideal choice for bodyguards, too obsessed with their own greed to pay any mind to the consequences, dogs to somebody else’s beckon, minds trained like hunting dogs.

Taking care of the dirty work, for a price.

A price that Chan needed, desperately. Because one thing demons, including himself, love doing is tormenting.

That is until he’s the victim of the tormenting, and all of a sudden the experience doesn’t feel too welcoming.

..Let’s just say he doubted the red stains would ever leave that shirt of his, metallic scent strong enough to make your nose burn.

Unfortunately, Lucifer wasn’t the greatest at forgiving, and Chan determined rather quickly this was only the start of his problems regardless of how sweetly the demon lord threatened explained he would dissolve Chan into ash if he ever got tired of him.

Alas, two weeks later, he gets a call.

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blegh-110 · 1 month

Note

You know how in part 4, the reader lashed out by throwing her plate across the room and Tangerine said she needs to tell him when she’s not feeling well?

He would be so touched if she came to him and was honest with him like, imagine another time after that incident that she feels like lashing out again, and she shares with him that she feels frustrated and all that 🥺

Poor reader :(( all day she’s had an anxious feeling in her stomach that she couldn’t explain, which gradually changed to a sour mood. And she felt so helpless with no one to really turn to. Which made her even more angry and upset.

You were sitting in the living room on the couch, some movie playing on the screen but you paid no attention to it. Your dinner plate sat untouched on the coffee table in front of you. Your hand was itching to reach for it, anything really, and lash out like you once did not too long ago.

You wanted to scream and cry and bang your fists on the floor. A common reaction you would resort to when you were a teen after an argument with your parents. It was a natural reaction for you to lash out. And Tangerine noticed that very quickly.

That’s why he put in a lot of effort to tell you to use your words. That no matter how hard it might be, he will do anything and everything he can to fix whatever it is you’re going through. But he knows that’s easier said than done.

He had some work to finish up in his office, he was loaded with a little too much work to sit and have dinner with you. And as he was making a plate for you, he could see something bubbling up inside of you. So he left you alone with a single kiss to the cheek and to come see him if you need anything, “I’m only upstairs so come in whenever you’d like”.

And you did. But not without wondering if you should even be going to him for your troubles. You’re arriving to the point where, unfortunately, you are getting some sort of comfort and safety from Tangerine. It’s not your fault, you think. It’s not your fault that you melt when he wraps his strong arms around you, then rubs his hands all over your back. Giving you butterflies when he grabs your chin and gives you a searing kiss that leaves you dizzy everytime. It’s not your fault but it’s what you need.

It takes longer than it should when you finally make your way to the door of Tangerine’s office, and it’s wide open. It feels almost wrong to see it not shut. Even more wrong when you can hear the typing, the shuffling of paper, a pen scribbling something down, and Tangerine’s sighs of frustration, exhaustion, or whatever it is he’s feeling. You stand by the door for a little longer, taking in this side of him you haven’t seen yet. The one where he is in the midst of figuring things out, putting information together, being wrong about certain stuff.

Since being with him, you have only ever seen a man who knows what he is doing at all times. Who walks around the house with the knowledge of what he is going to do next.

Funnily enough, what you don’t know is that even when he’s out doing his job, he still doesn't know what he’s doing. Him and Lemon just have really good luck in a lot of cases.

Despite this, it’s kind of nice to see him not know what is going on. And seeing him in a somewhat vulnerable state, you quietly clear your throat. Although Tangerine gave you the choice to come see him, you still need him to guide you to him. You need to know that he wants you.

“I was wondering when you’d come up, don’t just stand there, c’mere.”

You feel the weight start to lift off your chest and the anxious swirl in your stomach go away with every step you take. Still without removing his eyes from his desk, Tangerine gives you room to climb onto his lap.

You don’t speak for a while. You want to let yourself calm down just a little more before doing the impossible; talking about your feelings.

And when you do, it’s one of the most difficult things you have ever done. None of it comes naturally because you were never put in a position where someone wanted to know how you felt. It’s hard to find the right words to describe your state and you take long pauses between already short sentences. And it makes you feel stupid. Why is something like describing your feelings so hard? Shouldn’t you know yourself enough to just say how you feel?

There are moments where you stop talking for a minute to gather your thoughts, then you ramble the next. Not sure whether you’re making sense or not.

In the end you cry, because it mentally and emotionally drains you to talk about yourself in any way. You feel exposed, which after years of hiding, it's scary and confusing and you wonder if you said too much or too little. But in some way, you do feel better after it's over. You don’t know if you got your words across but it's finally out, and you are curious as to what Tangerine is going to do. Although your thoughts about him are complicated, you like that when you do your part in certain things, he takes care of the rest. He wants to take care of the rest.

You did your part in not lashing out and instead used your words, what do you get for that now?

You get a soft thank you from him right after for being open and honest with him while he wipes away your tears. You get him being understanding about your frustration, and that he's proud of you for doing something so difficult. His words, his acknowledgment that what you did was hard for you, takes away the exposure and vulnerability and instead makes you feel supported and seen.

You also get him loving up on you the rest of the night, which is what you were secretly hoping for in the very back of your mind. Sweetly licking into your mouth with gentle hands caressing any part he could get his hands on, making you giggle into his mouth. You feel cared for and safe, you trusted him with your life at that very moment. You didn’t know that it would start to slowly get better from there.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #bullet train #bullet train imagine #aaron taylor johnson x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine blurb #aaron taylor johnson #tangerine x fem!reader #flightless bird thoughts<3

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luckybunny555 · 7 months

Text

Secret admirer

You make the final choice in relation to your secret admirer after the revelation of their motivations.

Amber Freeman x GN!/Fem!Reader(no pronouns but for sapphics)

Warnings: creepy behavior, stalking, cursing, usual Ghostface behavior, a little bit of trust issues, being "attacked" but not harmed, mentions of murder and violence(no big description tho), a little suggestive in the end(as a treat ;) )

a/n: Part 3. I didn't proof-read it. I had to divide it three parts bc I thought it was still too long, so this is the last and shortest one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You close your eyes, trying to make sense of everything and calm your mind, that was still taking in her whole monologue. You regain awareness of your body, finally noticing the hand on your hip. The sensation clouded your thoughts again. You open your eyes, feeling her breath mingling with yours. With a deep exhale, you finally speak, "Wait, so..." you start, sounding a bit breathless and confused, "you sent me all those letters? And you attacked Tara, and killed that guy? I don't get it, why did you do all of this?" If her goal was to make you a little scared, there was a whole collection of horror movies waiting for the two of you.

"Because it wasn't enough," she explained with passion, trying to get you to understand her, the side of her that was still new to you. "I needed you closer. I needed you to need me. And only me. Not Tara, not Mindy, or Wes, or Chad," with that, you understand the first attack. She noticed you were getting closer to Tara, but she couldn't go all the way, or you wouldn't forgive her. Or be scared of her, instead of looking for her to protect you. That's not what she wanted. She just had to show you Tara was vulnerable, and couldn't keep you safe like she could.

"And come one, didn't you enjoy it? My gifts, my letters, even the creepy ones?" She asks you with that wicked, charming smirk imprinted on her face again.

"I stopped answering you because I was scared," you emphasize your words. "Because I knew someone was watching me, and I was worried I'd get hurt, or kidnapped or worse," your tone escalates, and your gaze is locked on hers.

"Because you didn't know it was me! But now you do," that smirk won't leave her face, and curse you for your taste, because you love the way she looks right now. "Do you really hate that I was the one keeping an eye on you? That I knew you so fucking well, maybe even better than you know yourself, that I gave you exactly what you wanted and needed?" She asks, and you can tell it's a genuine question.

But you can't bring yourself to answer her, not without judging yourself for it. You know you shouldn't admit it. You know you shouldn't give her the satisfaction. But why would you lie? The anger had mostly passed, and you still loved her. And you didn't even hate it. It felt good, to love and to be loved by her. Most people would beg for an ounce of the effort she puts into you. Who else would kill someone to protect you? Who else would watch over you, and get you out of uncomfortable situations without hesitation, and stay up late to comfort you when you're scared, always being there for you? Who else would remember every single one of your favorite books and movies, listen to every word you say, and be this devoted to you? Who else would become a fucking serial killer just because they love you so much?

She laughs, clearly amused by your silent answer. "See? I'm right. You love it," She's so pleased with herself. You close your eyes in defeat, earning a giggle from the girl. "I know that..." she brings her free hand to your face, brushing your hair behind your ear with a careful, gentle touch. Everything about her was two opposites extremes, "because I know you," she smiles, tilting her head to the side. She carefully gets closer to you, her body softly pressing against yours. "C'mon, baby, just admit it."

You see no point in resisting her any longer. It might've been a sick way to get you, but she wasn't wrong: you loved it. From the mysterious letters to the depth of her devotion. And now that you knew it was her, you weren't so scared anymore. You never got hurt. On the contrary. Everything she had done only kept you safe. And it worked like a love spell, captivating you.

"You're insane," your eyes meet hers, and she once again pretends to be offended by your comment. "But I love you," you confess in surrender, making her smile grow wider. She is clearly pleased with the answer she earned from you. "Can you drop the knife now?" The tension in your body gradually dissipates.

She chuckles, dropping the weapon to the floor. She might be the one in control, but she depends on you. To you, she's harmless.

Hesitantly, you bring your hands up, placing them on the nape of her neck. Your eyes are still locked, and this time, your heart races for a good reason. Her expression is softer, satisfied, yet with a remaining trace of venom. Just how you like it. "You're not gonna hurt me, right?" You had enough proof, but you wanted her to admit it again. She loved the way you sounded sweet and vulnerable.

"Never, baby," her voice is tinged with tenderness, and she places a kiss at the top of your cheek, her hands finding your waist. "Not unless you want me to," she adds, teasing you. With the terror melting away, you finally let out a soft laugh. Amber's attention is focused on your smile, and you notice that.

Gently, you bring her face closer, taking your time to connect your lips. Impatiently, she leans closer, kissing you as her hands pull your body against hers. She smiles against your lips, satisfied for finally getting what she wanted for so long. And you reciprocate it.

The two of you get lost in the moment, her lips staining with passion and satisfaction the memories of the scary scene she just made you experience. Now that you know the source of your fears is Amber, you can enjoy the frightening and exhilarating sensations that come with that. This might be what it feels like to enjoy horror movies, but better. Because right now, you could feel her lips on yours. You feel her hands on your lower back and hip, yours entangled in her hair, and your bodies pressing against each other. You never expected your night to turn out like that, especially not when you were crying for your life just a few minutes ago. But wasn't it worth it?

All the desires and feelings you bottled up for so long were finally spilling out, clear in the way your intensity increased. Amber took that as a silent confirmation of your craving for her, the delight of the achievement consuming her. Knowing how much you wanted, and needed her, filled her with a sense of accomplishment. And she was determined to keep that feeling alive.

Momentarily breaking the kiss, her lips trail down to your jawline. Your left hand grips her arm, pulling her even closer as you giggle in satisfaction. You can feel her smile on your skin, your reaction to her kisses pleasing her, as she continues to leave kisses on your jawline, slowly reaching your neck.

Snapping you out of your trance, the sound of your phone ringing causes Amber to groan, displeased with the unfortunate interruption. She moves away from your neck, scanning your expression. "This time it's not me," she teases, feigning innocence.

You playfully scoff, reluctantly pulling away from her and leaning down to grab your phone, that was still on the floor. It was your mom. Amber attentively observes you as you pick up the call.

"Mom?" mindlessly heading to the kitchen, you wonder why she was calling you.

"Hi, sweety," the familiar voice speaks on the phone. "Did you get home safe? Is everything alright? I didn't want to leave you alone, but I had that meeting, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

You look over your shoulder at Amber, who was picking up her mask and knife from the floor. "Uhm, yeah, everything's fine," Amber looks at you with curiosity and a hint of gratefulness. "Amber's here," you catch the girl's attention again, "I didn't wanna be alone so I asked her to come over. Can she stay for dinner?" Your request earns a smile from Amber as she walks towards you, placing her items on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, she's there? Of course, sweetheart, I'll get home soon," your mom sounds pleased with the idea. Obviously because she doesn't know the whole story. But she wouldn't get it. "Amber's a good girl, I like her," she adds.

Her words make you chuckle, and Amber, overhearing the conversation, tilts her head to the side in amusement. "I also think that," you smile, playfully teasing the girl in front of you, despite the truth in your statement.

Once the call ends, Amber can't hide the satisfaction on her face. "I'm a good girl?" she continues to tease you, making you giggle.

"Amber, don't start," you don't resist the urge, kissing her once more. "You better hide this whole costume or you'll lose your nice reputation with my mom," Amber nods, pretending to be concerned.

You look at the box she sent you earlier, then look at her with a pout and annoyed expression, "I can't believe you cut my favorite plushie's head off. That's cruel."

She gives you a mockingly apologetic look, "don't worry, babe, I'll fix it."

The both of you put away the props from Amber's staged attack, hiding the traces of Ghostface's appearance. You would never give away her identity, not now that you knew you had Ghostface infatuated with you. In return, you mentally vowed to protect Amber too, in your own way. With that, she maintained her cool and careless attitude around your friends, her sweet and caring image around your family, and her obsessive, devoted and endlessly loving demeanor with you, and you only.

#scream #scream 5 #scream v #scream x reader #scream 5 x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x you

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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year

Text

Checkmate

Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Summary: You've been transferred to Dagger Squad, which is both good and bad. Good, because it meant the brass felt you belonged with the best. Bad, because the best already had a tight friendship group, and you were not yet apart of that. And you may never be, if you keep making fun of a certain someone's callsign.

Notes: This is basically me deciding that Jake is the biggest fan of 'Dallas' there ever was or ever has been. no I wont be taking suggestions. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. This will probably have another part to it, but wanted to share as is for now.

Masterlist

You step into the squad ready room, glad to find it busy enough that your arrival goes more or less unnoticed. You weren’t normally the wallflower type, but you’d been deployed enough times by now that you’d developed a system for assimilating, one that mostly involved keeping your head down and performing so well that they would have no choice but to gladly welcome you. That way you never had to experience the mortification of being snubbed by an already established friend group who you would have no choice but to continue working with and seeing every single day.

Perhaps you were a little bit of a wallflower type, but this current transfer was going to be the greatest challenge to your usual ploy of sneakily befriending them all the while proving your worth. Not only was Dagger Squad made up of the top percent of Top Gun graduates in the past few years, but they had all been chosen for a classified mission just over a year ago, meaning that their pre-established friendship was probably going to be harder to sneak into than the Pope’s private snack pantry.

Thus, why were you moving at an even more subdued pace than usual. You were still in the observation stage.

To their credit, Dagger had been more genuinely welcoming than some of the group’s you’d subbed in for, but as nice as they all seemed, they still had a natural cohesion and flow, both in the sky and on the ground, which you were not a part of.

Yet, you remind yourself. You weren’t a part of it yet, but you would be. There was no alternative, because at last you had been assigned to a detachment permanently, which meant Dagger was it for you. You needed this to go smoothly, you needed to avoid any possibility of ostracization, embarrassment, or long-term derision. Just keep your head down and grow on them slowly, they’ll barely even realise you’re worming your way into their hearts until it’s already too late–

“Hey, Bishop!”

You manage to at least not look like a startled deer at the sudden call of your name. Across the room, you see most of the usual group gathered, Rooster and Phoenix taking up one couch, Coyote, Hangman and Payback spread over the other, with Fanboy lounging on the arm, balancing rather impressively. Paypack leans around Fanboy to check if he had your attention.

“Bishop,” he grins brightly when he sees you looking back at him, and you force yourself to calm down and relax as you approach, which is a little easier given his friendly aura.

“What’s up?” you ask, adjusting your go-bag on your shoulder, doing your best to sound casual but not uninterested.

“Your callsign, what’s it mean?” Payback doesn’t beat around the bush, and although you experience an amount of horror over the question, it isn't the first time you've been asked, or you’ve needed to explain. The chagrin you feel about your less-than-stellar identifier passes a little faster than it usually does though, as Payback waits for your answer with nothing but genuine curiosity and interest.

“Oh–”

“–‘Who shot J. R.?’, Right?” Hangman cuts in suddenly, and you think he sounds strangely excited. Your lips twitch, wanting desperately to grin, but you don’t want anybody to think you’re laughing at him, so you just quickly nod, and gesture that he’d got it.

“What?” Payback and Fanboy speak at the same time, turning to look at their friend in equal amounts of confusion, amusement and disbelief. Hangman stares back, either refusing to be embarrassed, or being physically incapable of feeling it in the first place.

Apparently, even in regards to Dallas.

“The greatest cliffhanger in T.V. history? Oh, come on!” Hangman throws his hands up, shaking his head. You can’t be sure of exactly how much of his incredulity is real, though the accusatory look that each person in the room receives in turn tells you that perhaps you should keep your own thoughts about the classic to yourself.

“Unbelievable! Nobody here is too good for Dallas!” Hangman huffs resentfully, pointing specifically at Coyote, who is the only one not bothering to hide his snickering.

You blink away from Hangman, leaving him to what looked like his surely impending conniption, at the hands of Dallas. Live by the oil tycoon, die by your mistress, your grandma would say.

You look at Payback, and shrug.

“The guy’s I trained with thought I sounded like the character, so…” you say with a shrug. Usually this was as far as the questions about your callsign would go, your explanation reasonable enough to those who asked.

“What? You don’t sound anything like him.” Hangman cuts in again, sounding as though the idea was personally offensive to him, aided by his disgusted expression.

Instead of taking offence, you startle and clap your hands, throwing them wildly out as though you were a character on a 90’s sitcom.

“Right?!” You exclaim, perhaps a little louder than you intend, and certainly louder than any of the squad expect of you either. You drop your Seinfeld-arms, and quietly clear your throat.

“I–I’m not even from Dallas.” you’d been wanting to say those words for the past eight years.

Hangman rolls his eyes, as if to say ‘clearly’, but he sits up slightly and gestures vaguely at you instead.

“Your last name is literally ‘Bishop’– Every ready room I’ve been in for the past fourteen years has had about sixteen copies of the official chess rulebook– It’s just lazy,” he waves the hand he’d flung your way, and shakes his head again with a derisive sniff, followed by a deep grunt.

“Not that J.R. is bad, or anything,” he adds, and it takes you a moment to realise his grunt had not been a part of his displeasure, and was in fact a result of Coyote’s elbow spiking him hard in the ribs.

“It’s certainly unique,” you shrug, you mind flooding with possible responses, but they were the kind you’d give to a friend, a fellow aviator you’d known and flown with for years, not a virtual stranger.

Then again, you were trying to assimilate, and in Seresin’s case at least, verbal sparring seemed to be something he actively sought out. You’d noticed it the past week. He wasn’t ever exactly mean but he toed the line, just enough to bait out a response, however, he was let down by the fact these people knew and cared about him, and were willing to simply ignore his attempts to roll around the proverbial mat (which, to his credit, he still seemed to gain some satisfaction from. The man was a master of mind games).

You aren’t completely certain you’re right in your observations, but you figure it couldn’t hurt to try, seeing as with very little effort, he’d helped you get over eight years of nitpicking about your callsign off your chest by simply pointing it out.

“Well, it’s not too unique. It could have been something really embarrassing, like yours.”

You realise then, that actually, it could hurt quite a bit to try after all.

Everyone stares either at you, including Hangman who blinks slowly, his face completely devoid of any give away as to whether or not you’ve just made your next few weeks here a whole lot worse for yourself. You think Rooster lets out a quiet chortle disguised poorly as a cough, at the same time Fanboy whistles slowly, like a school student signalling the start of a fight. You feel your face begin to heat up, and you clumsily shuffle your slipping back further up your shoulder, not helped by the way Hangman has not stopped staring at you, his eyes following your jerky, nervous movements.

That’s when you see it, and strangely despite the utter mortification and minor panic you’d almost been sent into, an amount of joy that is definitely too much fills your chest and head. Hangman clicks his tongue against his teeth and you can see clearly now, that although not a reaction you had seen him give his friends, he was performing this solely because he could see it was getting a rise from you, compounding your uncertainty.

You aren’t sure if being correct about the man living for drama is really a good thing at all in the long run, but for now, you’ll take the amused smirk that grows across his features, and the likely subconscious acceptance in his unrelenting gaze.

Phoenix snorts then and kicks out at Hangman’s shoe. She isn't looking at him though, instead she’s got you fixed in her gaze, grinning widely and brightly in a manner that suggests you might have just gotten a two for one deal tonight.

“We’re all heading out to the Hard Deck later, you should come,” she tells you, eyes sparkling in a way that makes you glad for the effective trick shot you’ve managed, as you’d had Phoenix pegged from the start as the hardest nut to crack. “Especially if you’re gonna keep tone on Jake.” she adds with a snort, and jerks her head in Hangman’s direction

You briefly glance toward the blond man, who has surprisingly little add, considering his downfall was being planned right in front of him, but he simply seems to be listening good-naturedly, as if he didn’t spend every conversation he had playing a verbal game of cat and mouse his opponent usually had very little chance of winning.

Now, he sits quietly, half listening to what Phoenix had been saying, and half tuned in to Payback and Fanboy’s lively chatter about pool trick shots. Hangman cuts in, declaring the trick shot described as ‘simple’, and you wonder if Phoenix considers beating him at pool to be keeping tone.

From the way he clearly puffs his chest out now, fully invested in the trick-shot chatter, you think it just might.

You look back to her, and find that she too has picked up on the boy's plans for later, her face now pulled into a near-machiavellian grin. She dips her chin in question to you, and then towards Hangman, the meaning clear as crystal, and you give her a completely unrestrained smile in response, which only makes her own smile turn positively villainous.

All of sudden you feel as though you’ve arrived on the first day of summer camp. Before you even know it, you feel a friendship begin to form, one far stronger than any mere pinky promise, the kind of loyalty that can only be adequately expressed through the sacred exchanging of friendship bracelets.

Camp is ended when the up until now quiet presence of Rooster lets out an amused snort. He looks as though he wants to say something, to Phoenix, at least, but holds off, either because it would give the game away to your unsuspecting victim, or perhaps because he didn’t really know you well. The man wasn’t shy, per se, what you’d picked up over the last week was that of a man happy to let others do the talking, but would gladly take part if he had something to offer or add. The kind of quiet confidence that comes from knowing you were actually extremely cool, you suspect.

It was nice, and one of the reasons you were so eager to make a good impression and naturally ingratiate yourself here. Unless something majorly disruptive were to happen, this was your squad now, very likely until you left. There was nowhere to go up-wise, Dagger was the best of the best.

You and Phoenix reign in your expressions and she shrugs more casually, leaning back into the cushions.

“We’ll see you later, then. Bob lives on base, so I can ask him to wait for you if you want?” To her credit, her voice has fallen back into a smooth casualty that only further cements your desire to be her friend. You nod and give your own shoulders a bit of a roll.

“I’d appreciate that a lot, if it's not too much trouble for him?” You aren’t sure you’d go if it meant going on your own. You might be a great Naval Aviator, but you disliked driving, especially at night, and would go some ways to avoid it if you could. Phoenix’s eyes briefly flash with mischief and trouble, but she waves off your concern.

“Nah, he’s always taking this lot home. I’ll let him know.” her eyes again, twinkle, and you get the feeling that soon your numbers in the conspiracy to knock Hangman down a peg or two would rise. Well, it already had, if Rooster counted, but you weren’t sure about him yet.

Instead of letting yourself start to try and unravel and unpick the mystery that was Rooster, you call it a night with two sort-of-wins under your belt.

It does briefly occur to you, that once you get a pool stick in hand, Hangman may not be in the ‘win’ pile for very long.

#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 3 months

Text

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x OFC

Part 7

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x OFC

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Comet

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: We are back to the Wolffe angst! (but did we ever really leave?) This part is really sad. I know I keep saying that, but this one actually made me tear up while writing it. I don't usually get emotional when writing emotional scenes, so yeah. Do with that what you will. As always, please enjoy 💚

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"Cara," Wolffe said after a moment of them sitting silent. "I need you to go with Comet and pack some things from your room, okay?"

Cara looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "Why?"

"Because we can't stay here without mommy," Wolffe explained.

"Oh," she frowned. "Where are we going?"

"The Jedi Temple," Wolffe said. "We'll be staying with Plo for a while."

"I don't want to go," she pouted.

Wolffe sighed. "I don't want to go either, but we don't have a choice. Please, help daddy and go with Comet to pack."

"No," Cara whined.

"Come on, ad'ika," Comet said. He hopped off of the couch and stretched his arms over his head. "I bet I can pack faster than you."

"Nuh uh," Cara said, then jumped off of Wolffe's lap and ran toward her bedroom.

"Well, that was easy," Comet chuckled. He looked down at Wolffe. "You okay?"

Wolffe sighed. "Do you want a real answer?"

Comet frowned. "I guess that was a dumb question."

"I'm fine," Wolffe said, but his facial expression betrayed his words.

Comet decided to change the subject. "How many boxes can she bring?"

"One," Wolffe said. "The Jedi aren't big on things."

"Understood," Comet nodded, then walked off to follow Cara.

"Oh, Comet," Wolffe threw over his shoulder. "Make sure the di'kute in the kitchen clean up their mess."

Comet smirked. "10-4."

Wolffe remained seated on the floor and fidgeted with the carpet pieces again. Fine. He didn't even know what that word meant anymore. He used to, back when life was simple and fine just meant he wasn't dead. Now, he wasn't sure what to feel, how to feel, or how to deal with whatever feelings he was having. Sure, he felt sad when his brothers died, but something about this death felt much different. It felt heavier, denser, tighter, and suffocating in a way he couldn't fully explain.

Unwilling to dwell on his unchecked thoughts, Wolffe grabbed whatever box he could find and headed to his bedroom. He scrolled through the mental list he made and collected all of the obvious items he wanted to keep. Some things were on the bookshelf, like her favorite holo-novel. Some things were in the dresser, like her nightshirt and a lingerie set he bought her for their first anniversary. And some things were on the bedside table, like the holo-photo album and her half-used chapstick.

He opened the bedside table drawer to check if there was anything hiding in it he wanted and his heart sank. His gold wedding band sat alone in the drawer. He almost forgot about it. He couldn't wear it most of the time, but usually he'd put it on when he was home. He didn't even get a chance this time around. He picked up the shiny band and admired it fondly, reading the inscription and the date on the inside. His wife saved every credit she had to buy those rings for them and he promised to repay her one day. He carefully placed the memento in the box.

Wolffe rummaged through the closet next, pulling little bits and pieces of his wife out and placing the most important items into the box. He only had one box, so he needed to make every spot count. He shifted a stack of clothes to the side on the top shelf and a data-stick fell to the ground with a small clack. He bent over to pick it up and studied it for a moment, wondering what could be on it. He walked over to the holor-projector across from the bed, plugged in the data-stick, then sat on the edge of the bed. An image popped up of his wife and his breath was stolen as the recording played.

Hi darling, his wife said with a warm smile while sitting next to Cara at their kitchen table.

Wolffe gasped, then covered his mouth. He remembered when his wife sent him this recording on Cara's third birthday. He was away on a mission, and wasn't able to look at it for a couple of rotations, but it made him so happy to see them both. He'd been on that mission for months and missed them dearly. He completely forgot about it until now, and couldn't believe his wife kept it all this time. She looked so beautiful that day, and Cara was all dressed up for her special day, too.

Today is Cara's third birthday, she continued, then looked at Cara. Say hi to daddy.

Hi daddy! Cara yelled with a big grin.

"Hi baby," Wolffe said. It might seem stupid to say hello to a recording but he didn't care.

It's time to sing happy birthday, his wife said. Ready, Cara? Nice and loud so daddy can hear.

Cara nodded and they both started to sing. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Cara, happy birthday to you.

Wolffe's eyes turned misty and his body trembled as he tried to contain his emotions.

Now, blow out the candles and make a wish, she said.

Cara blew out the three lit candles and his wife clapped.

What'd you wish for? she asked with a big smile.

Daddy come home! Cara yelled towards the recorder.

Wolffe couldn't hold back the tears that rolled down his face. He wished he had more time with her. With both of them, together, as a family. It was too short. He didn't even get the chance to give his wife the life she deserved. The life he promised her. She took care of everything while he was deployed, and he vowed to take care of everything when the War was over, but now… Every vow he made to her had turned to ash. Until death do us part was the promise, but now, death had claimed her.

Okay, Wolffe, his wife said. I know this needs to be short, so we're gonna say goodbye now.

"No," Wolffe's voice cracked. "Please, don't say goodbye."

Say goodbye to daddy, she said to Cara while waving towards the recorder.

Bye, daddy! Cara yelled and waved.

"Please," Wolffe begged, his entire body shaking. "Cyare. Don't go."

Come home soon, she said, then blew a kiss. I love you, Wolffe.

The recording ended, but the last image of his wife stayed on the screen. Wolffe stood up on shaky legs and approached the projected image. He stretched out his hand to touch his wife's cheek, but his fingers passed through the pixels. He gasped, then tried again. This time to brush her hair with the palm of his hand, but it also passed through. It was just an image. It wasn't real. She wasn't real. Why wasn't she real? All he wanted to do was touch her one more time and hug her one more time; to feel her warmth.

"I love you, too," Wolffe whispered through broken breath.

Wolffe carefully pulled the data-stick out of the holo-projector and cradled it in his hands. Besides his daughter, this was his most prized possession. His wife's voice. He thought he'd never hear it again, and he didn't know if it helped him feel better or made him feel worse. Regardless, he nestled the special memory into the box and surrounded it with his wife's other things to keep it safe from harm. If anything ever happened to that memory, Wolffe didn't know what he would do.

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