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#some form of hope and reality hit it over the head with a two by four!!!!
thebirdandhersong · 9 months
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:'))))))
#darn darn darn DARN. like!! tears in my eyes!!!#do you ever want to ask someone so hilariously clueless#like. sir. have you ever been in love. like. have you??? do you know what it is??? to be fond of someone?????? WHAT IS GOING ON IN YOUR MIN#anyway FIRST boy i've been able to converse with about dickens and tolstoy and dostoevsky and theology comfortably and for WHAT#APPARENTLY my brain jumped immediately to fondness rather than friendship. FOR WHAT!#anyway that's on me for clown behaviour and general silliness#pray for me lolllllll i am literally so so sick of this!! i too would like to live life without the weight of this!!#i've had 'i'll come back to you' and 'i don't want you to be alone' going round and round my head for the whole week.#like. my dude you have someone waiting for YOU back home what are you TALKING ABOUT#a note from the logical side of my brain: girl you don't even agree theologically with major points also he doesn't want to have a family o#be a father. and you knew that before he casually mentioned he was seeing someone. like. clearly it wasn't going to work anyway. let it go#but alas it is SO so horribly easy for me to grow fond of a person it is SO so horribly hard to claw my way out of that#i do not want this!!!! i do not want silly feelings!!! what's more i do not want complicated emotions because he IS my friend!!!!#it wouldn't bother me so much if this weren't like the tenth time i've had#some form of hope and reality hit it over the head with a two by four!!!!
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superluver · 7 months
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Together again | Gojo Satoru
wc: 1282
warnings: MAJOR SPOILER WARNING, SPOILERS FOR SHIBUYA INCIDENT ARC AND MANGA, Chapter 236, mentions of pregnancy(literally one word), FEM!Reader, Wife reader — NOT PROOFREAD
(I didnt put an exact warning because it would literallt give away what happened)
Pairing: Husband!GojoxWife!Reader
desc: You meet with Gojo after two long months
He doesn't remember much, just a blink and he was back as his high school self. A female, hand on her hip, a curious expression written all over her face. Staring at him, she tilted her head. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”
Satoru Gojo wants to laugh, like this was all some cruel joke.
Here you were, in front of him after not having seen your face(though younger) in almost 2 months since the incident in Shibuya— where you died.
He partially blamed himself. He watched you during your last moments, and selfishly, he’s grateful he didn’t actually see your death. His wife, his one and only. He smiles, and laughes as he pulls you in by your waist into a hug. “My boy did so good,” you whisper, allowing him to dig his head further into your torso as you giggle, your own fingers curling in his hair.
You smell exactly the same, like home. A home he never got to give you.
After he’s done being whiny, and well, a child, he pouts, throwing his head back.
“Aw man this is awful!” He shouts, and you laugh. The person he doesn't realize sitting beside him speaks up.
Suguru. His best friend, the one he had to kill, the one that would keep him up at night. The one that—
“Guess you were wrong.” you giggle, and Suguru stares at the two of you like you were keeping a secret joke from him.
You point at him mischievously, “He was all like, when you die you die alone, to his students, but look at the reality of it— well not really reality but still!”
He whines, “(Y/N)!!!”
Suguru breaks the ice, “How was the king of curses?”
Satoru huffs, shaking his head with a half hearted grin. He nods his head so the side, the empty seat beside him— which you take, his hand taking yours while you sit
It’s cold, just like his.
The tip of his nose hits the back of your palm, his eyes are closed before opening halflidded, staring out into the floor. His eyes peer over the overly tinted glasses, responding, “That guy was too damn strong, and he wasn’t even trying.”
It was almost mumbled, like a child complaining. Still holding your hand, he looks at Suguru, “To be completely honest, I don’t think I would even be able win.. regardless if he had Megumi’s cursed technique or not. The guy had too much up his sleeve.”
Your free hand pats his arm, laughing loudly you shake him lightly with a coo, “It’s alright, you’re my loser anyways baby,” you say with pressed eyebrows and puckered lips, almost teasingly.
He rolls his eyes, biting your hand lightly.
“I gave everything I had. Just a little sad you guys weren't there to support me, maybe you would’ve been able to give me a slap on the back to motivate me,” He jokes, shaking his head with closed eyes, imagining Suguru and yourself in the crowd of students.
“I’m glad that he was the one to kill me.” He confessed.
Somebody stronger than me. He wanted to say.
“It’s kind of gross hearing that from you, Gojo. You sound like a samurai general.”
You’re laugher bubbles up from your throat, tears forming as you turn back feom your seat.
“Kento, you’ll never change, will you?” You laugh, watching Satoru smack Nanami on the head multiple times, ruffling his hair in the process. You get up, releasing Satoru’s hand to sit in the seat besides Nanami. Smiling as the seat behind you is now empty.
Shoko.
It was for her, she was the last of the group, and you hope she wouldn't be here for a while.
“I won’t justify him, but I’ll sympathize with you.. I guess..” he mumbles, causing you to slap him on the shoulder with no ill intent, laughter from his stoicness.
“Hey!” Satoru snaps back, and you reach over and pinch his cheek.
“What I’m trying to say is, it was a fitting way to go out, Gojo.”
“You should be morw polite to your Juniors.” You chastise Satoru.
“I was already nice enough to you!” He retorts, and you tilt your head with a smile. His hand takes yours that was clipped to his cheek back in his,
“What was it like for you guys in your last moments?”
You blink, looking around the room.
“It was kind of scary,” you start, and he clenches your hand slightly. He remembers how the two of you split, you pecked him on the cheek with a determined expression, clenching your fist you told him you would be back, before warping to Harajuku. It was the last time he woult see you conscious.
You had crossed paths with Mahito, and you had it under control, until you didn't. Your weak nature, strong virtue, Satoru told you these would get in the way of you becoming a sorcerer, but you would always brush him off, telling him, I’m fine.
But you couldn’t help it, seeing a small girl in the line of Mahito’s path of destruction. Your arm was the price to pay for her life.
And, maybe you had lost too much blood, you cant remember, it’s a blur, but Satoru remembers.
Your leg contorted in a way he coulf only asume was unfoxable, your arm missing, eye streaming blood, you were dead. But his six eyes said you were alive, that you both were. And he was hopeless, tued up by the prisom realm, watching your eyes dim, he watched you die.
“To be honest, I wanted to quit with Kento, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave you alone doing all this. I don’t regret it to the end,” you smile loving at him, and he feels like vomiting.
“I would do this a thousand times over if I got to be with you every time.” You tell him sweetly, and Nanami coughs, “Enough with the sappy shit.” He grumbles.
You laugh again, and stare at Suguru. He looks back at you, and you feel your lips curling back up into a brighter smile. The man who defected, the man who left you all, he was here, and with you all.
“Once,” all attention back to Nanami. “When I was discussing with Mei-san about where I should move, she told me to move North to become someone new, and to move south to stay the person you are. Naturally, I chose South. I think it’s ironic how I died while betting on my future. But it wasn’t too bad because of Haibara.”
Haibara grins, “Aw! You’re too kind!”
“I see..” Satoru says, and you squeeze his hand back. His head snaps upward, looking right in front of him to Yaga, his voice as annoying as ever, “Yo Yaga! I thought you said no sorcerer dies without regrets!”
You laugh, and he laughs back, the room filled with laughter, Riko, Kuroi, Kento and Yu, Suguru, even Yaga.
“Now I’m hoping this isn’t a dream.” He confesses, while standing up, and you smile.
“It’s not, ya big loser!”
You shout, standing up from your chair and throwing yourself over it, crushing him. He falls back onto the ground, and Suguru jumps on top of you, Yu crushing him as Satoru wheezes, and you see him smirk.
“Welcome back!” You grin, Suguru’s face smushed next to your own. Haibara’s chin resting in between the two of yours.
He takes in the scene in front of him, everybody he’s loved all together, and finally, his arms wrap around the three of you, and he’s just so happy, that he doesn’t even Think about going back.
CLEAR MINDSET THIS IS MY REALITY NO ONE TELLS ME OTHERWISE SHUSH
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myfictionaldreams · 6 months
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Family // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader
Summary: Sirius Black, the usually happy prankster within Hogwarts, had a special skill for hiding his emotions. Until one day, he's forced to face the realities of the troubles with his family.
Requested by: @bullets-from-another-dimension Thank you so much for the request and for showing me that Sirius needs a little more love! I hope you like this fic, and thanks for your support with the poly!marauders ♥
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff (also lots!), emotional hurt, discussion of Sirius' abusive family, disowned, crying, hugs/kissing, polyamory relationship, nipple play, body worship, making out, oral sex (m receiving), happy ending
A/N: This is just a little PSA that I'll be going through my other Poly!Marauders fics sometime soon to change some bits to make sure that each of the boys is getting enough love! It won't be anything major for the overall story, just spreading the love equally as it appears Sirius may have been skipped a few times (and I don't want that!), so check for an 'edited' note on the story. Thank you for pointing this out to me!
Words: 4.8k
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The last 24 hours had been an emotional rollercoaster, with both positives and negatives coming to light. It had started with the ultimate showdown game of Quidditch between Slytherin and Gryffindor; with both Sirius and James on the team. You and Remus had been nervous wrecks just for the game, let alone all the tension drowning within the two enemy houses. This escalated outside of the pitch, with wands having to remain in hands between lessons to prepare for sabotage attacks from either team.
It was endlessly tiring the days leading up to the events, and it was some kind of a miracle to be standing in the Gryffindors' stands without a single injury. Now, however, you and Remus had to live through the fear of watching your boyfriends fly around with their roles as Seeker and Beater.
You were sure you’d accidentally bitten your nail down to the cuticle by the end of the match, and your throat felt as if you’d swallowed sandpaper with how sore it was with the screaming and shouting you’d been doing in support. There was instant relief as James finally caught the snitch, and everyone cheered.
“Do you think he’ll be ok?” you shout up to Remus, who, with his height difference, could see over the crowd to where the commotion was occurring on the pitch. As James had dived for the snitch, so had the Slytherin’s seeker, who just happened to be Sirius’ brother, Regulus. However, in mid-dive, Regulus accidentally knocked into one of the goalposts, hitting his head and falling from his broom. Thankfully to the Slytherins, Sirius had been close by and caught his falling brother from gaining any further injuries.
Remus was nodding to your question, “Yes, he’s walking away, well - he’s pushing Sirius away, so I’m sure he’s just fine”, he explained, watching Regulus shove Sirius, so the man stumbled away. A pang of guilt settled heavily in your stomach at the thought of the brothers arguing. You knew that the relationship between Sirius and his brother was non-existent these days, and it only made you feel more awful for your boyfriend, understanding how difficult it must have been to lose his family in the way he has.
You couldn’t ponder on these thoughts as the entirety of Gryffindor and the vast majority of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began celebrating the win. This included Sirius, who scooped you into an exaggerated hug, spun you high into the air, and carefully placed your feet back onto the floor.
“Was your brother alright?” You shout to Sirius over the noisy crowd forming around the winning team. For a split second, you witness sadness filling his grey eyes before he snaps out of it and a beaming smile replacing the momentary lapse in his emotions.
“Oh, he’s fine; I’m sure a quick knock to the head will bring some sense to him. Anyway, come on, let’s all go back to the common room; I have a special surprise for everyone”. Sirius was great at many things, and covering his emotions was one of them. Any attempts to open up about the situation regarding his family would change the subject within the blink of an eye. You respected that he didn’t want to talk about any of his family members, but you still kept a close eye on him, making sure that he didn’t pent up his emotions until he was at breaking point, which you feared would occur one day as there was only so much one person could go through.
The interaction with Regulus seemed to have been forgotten in the madness of celebrating, which ran into the early morning hours in the Gryffindor common room. It would have continued later, but Professor McGonagall arrived in her dressing gown and demanded everyone go to bed. Sirius needed the most help to bed, having drunk the ‘surprise’ fire whiskey he regretted deeply in the morning.
“I’m never drinking again. Who’s idea was it anyway to bring Firewhiskey?!” came the deep groan of the man lying face first beside you, his face thoroughly buried into the pillow. Your temples were pounding slightly; you’d felt worse hangovers, but it was still uncomfortable as you rolled over towards Sirius.
Your arm wrapped over his naked back, face pressed over his shoulder blade as you could feel the toned muscles adjusting to your presence as you melted into his warmth. “It was your idea. I’m never falling for your charms ever again, Sirius”, you mumbled against his skin, reminiscing on his sweet talking skills from last night that convinced you to have a drinking competition with him.
This pulled him out of the half-unconscious state as his mop of hair turned in your direction. The movement caused you to roll off him and witness the beautiful sight of his morning glow; even in his hangover, he was handsome with one eye squished closed as the room was too bright.
Sirius turned his body entirely towards you, huffing as he moved, and you refrained from trying to reach out and control the usually silky locks of hair that were now all knotted and tangled on the top of his head. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure my charms made you cum three times before the fire whiskey joined the party,” he commented confidently and admired the warmth that filled your face. You attempted to hide your smile at the memories but were soon fully scream-laughing as Sirius tried to break your facade by tickling your sides.
Pushing him away, you turned and nuzzled into the naked chest of James, who remained asleep even through your loud laughter, but his arms still wrapped around your shoulders protectively. Besides James, you could see Remus was awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Remusssss, Sirius is being mean to me”, you drawl childishly.
The man sighed, dropping his hands to give you and Sirius a pointed look, “Please, children, it’s too early, and my head is too painful for you to make this much noise”.
Sirius smirked as he spooned in close behind you, wrapping his arm around you and James as everyone tried to have a few more moments of beautiful sleep before breakfast, and class pulled the four of you from the safety of the bed.
The food helped to settle the hangovers that the majority of Gryffindor seemed to be nursing this morning, much to the displeasure of McGonagall, who was glaring at her house from the Professor’s table. Sitting beside James, you leaned across him for another slice of toast as Sirius sat opposite you with Remus next to him.
As everyone started to be rejuvenated with energy from the breakfast, the owls began to swoop in and deliver the mail for the day. An emerald-coloured envelope landed on Sirius's lap, which caught the attention of you and the fellow Marauders. You already had your suspicions about who the letter was from. Sirius mostly confirmed it, as he had hardly read the letter before shoving it into his bag and brushing off any attempts at discussing who it was from.
“It’s nothing, just some spam letter. So, who do we have first today? Is it transfiguration? I can’t imagine that will be fun with how angry McGonagall looks right now.” Sirius changed the subject, but it didn’t convince any of you as you eyed him sadly. He didn’t wait for a response as he stood, gripping his bag so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Come on, otherwise we’ll be late”.
You knew something was off just by the quipped tone of his voice, and the humour and light that always seemed to dance in his eyes had been significantly dimmed. Even as James tried to humour him with his usual party tricks and jokes, it only earned him a half-assed chuckle from Sirius. Remus even attempted to pull him aside before entering the classroom to see if he needed a moment alone to talk, but Sirius just distracted him with a quick kiss and said he was fine.
You were quick to sit next to Sirius near the back of the classroom, smiling brightly with the hopes that he would return it, but it seemed he was lost in his thoughts as he idly arranged his parchment paper and quills. Thankfully, as the class began, his hand rested on your thigh so you could link both fingers together, lifting it and kissing the back of his hand.
As McGonagall began to teach the class, you leaned closer to Sirius, savouring the warmth that radiated off him and smelling the citrusy scent from his aftershave. “Is everyone ok, Sirius?” Your voice was barely audible so as not to disrupt the class, but you knew he heard as his posture stiffened, and he nodded his head, fake smiling for a second before returning his attention to the teacher. “I know there’s something wrong. Talking might help; I mean - I want to help-”
“Excuse me at the back. Is there something more important than my lesson?” McGonagall demanded with a passive-aggressive raised eyebrow as all other eyes turned to look at you and Sirius.
As your mouth opened to take the blame, your boyfriend beat you to it, “Sorry, Professor. That was my fault I was distracting her”.
“You’re already on thin ice after last night's antics, Mr Black. See me after class to arrange a detention”.
Your mouth drops open to retort to her and tell him it wasn’t Sirius, but the hand holding yours squeezes, stopping you from saying anything. As McGonagall turns back to write on the chalkboard, you lean close to harshly whisper, “You didn’t have to do that, Sirius! That should have been my detention!”
“It’s only one detention, I don’t care”, he shrugs nonchalantly, releasing your hand to begin writing his notes. You frown so deeply that a line forms between your eyebrows as you glance towards Remus and James, who have similar expressions of worry, especially as Sirius hasn’t even attempted to have any sort of friendly banter with McGonagall like he usually did.
At lunch, Sirius had somehow managed to slip away from the group, and your head seemed to be fixated towards the entrance to the Great Hall, neck straining to see over the other students as you waited for him to walk in.
“I mean, it’s not just me, right? There’s definitely something wrong with him”, you say before nervously nibbling on your lower lip.
Remus’ hand cups your shoulder, gripping gently as he agrees, “It’s not just you. I tried to talk to him before the lesson, but he just pushed me away. He just wants to be by himself; I’m sure he’ll be just fine”.
You nod to yourself but don’t believe his words. Yes, Sirius was strong and had been putting on a strong appearance for years, but he never pushed himself away from the three of you. It was like an invisible angel on your shoulder, trying to nudge you towards him, knowing something wasn’t right.
“Have either of you got the Marauder's map?” you ask Remus and James, who then check their pockets and school bags but cannot find the map.
“Sorry, Love, he’s probably got it with him”, James reports, appearing as deflated as you felt.
Standing from the table, the anxious causing your stomach to clench with unease and unable to eat, you inform the two of them, “I’ll be back later; I just need to make sure he’s ok and safe”.
Remus and James nod in understanding and watch you go. As you stand in the entrance to the Great Hall, you’re unsure where to start and what's worse is that he could be in his Padfoot form, which means he’d be able to hear you coming and run away. There were the grounds to search, Hogsmeade, the entirety of the enormous castle; there were plenty of places for him to be.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to search the dormitory first, hoping the map had been left in a draw up there.
Opening the door to the dormitory room that you shared with your boyfriends, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius, lying face first on the shared bed, his head turned away from the doors but from the noticeable sniffling noises and his shoulders shaking, you knew he was crying. Your heart felt like someone had reached inside your chest and squeezed as the sight rocked you. Silently as you could, you slipped your shoes off and placed your school bag onto the floor.
You knew he was aware someone else was in the room as his cries softened, and he subtly tried to wipe his face into the pillow. As you began to crawl onto the bed, you could see he was spooning the pillow you usually used to sleep on, clutching it desperately close to his chest. You had to remember to breathe through your nose, remain strong, and not descend into your emotions.
Kneeling next to him, your hand gently met the centre of his back, rubbing slow, comforting circles into his white shirt, hoping the action would comfort him. “Sirius, what’s wrong?”
“What? Nothing's wrong” he tried to brush it off, but you could hear the thickness of his voice as he tried to hide his face further in the pillow beneath his head.
“Is it about the letter from earlier? Who sent it to you?” Even though you knew he didn’t really want to talk about it, you knew he’d also built a wall around his emotions and wanted him to feel like he was in a safe enough space to talk, like the many times he’d done the same for you. Reaching over with your other hand, you ran your fingers through the long strands of dark hair, brushing them out of his face that was still turned away from you. “Talk to me, my love, please. I want to help you”.
Reluctantly, Sirius turned over and began to pull you down to lie in the centre of the bed. You did so and spread your arms wide as he moved to lie on your chest, the top of his head resting beneath your chin as you hugged him closely.
“No one important sent me the letter, it’s fine. I just want to cuddle”, he admits with a sigh, relaxing into the hold, the pillow he’d been spooning now forgotten about as he had the real thing instead, finding comfort instantly. In this position, you could hold him close and do the same actions as before, stroking gently up and down his back whilst also playing with his hair.
You want to tell him that you knew who the letter was from, but he seemed content with being held instead for a couple of minutes until you felt dampness seeping across the column of your neck and down your chest as his shoulders began to shake once more.
“Sirius-?”
“It was from my parents. The letter, I mean. Fuck! I don’t know, it's so stupid.” he sits up abruptly, aggressively wiping away the leaked tears he’d been desperately trying to stop.
Sitting beside him, you rubbed his shoulders while trying to calm him down from his overwhelming emotions. “It’s not stupid, my love.” As you talk, you grip his twists to pull them away so he can look into your face and hopefully see the love there. “Your parents, they’re awful people, Sirius, and anyway, you’re perfectly within your right to show emotions every once in a while; I just need you to know that I’m here for you, we’re all here for you, no matter how you are feeling. It’ll be ok”.
Even though it was comforting for him to hear the words, it still seemed to break something within him. Like a crack had formed in the dam as he relented with his cries, openly sobbing into his hands. Whilst trying to swallow the lump that had developed in your throat, you pulled him close, kissing every part of him that you could reach whilst wiping away the cascading tears.
“You don’t have to tell me what was said in the letter, but I just need you to know that they’re not your real family; you know we’re all your family”. Sirius pulls back from the hug, and your bottom lip trembles at seeing how heartbroken he looks. The area around his eyes is swollen and red to match the shade at the tip of his nose as wetness covers the length of his cheeks.
His mouth opens to say something, but he’s interrupted by the door opening and James and Remus stepping into the bedroom. The two men pause, not expecting to find either you or Sirius here, but as they see the sadness and pain on Sirius’s face, they immediately drop their school bags.
“You missed it”, Sirius chuckled, trying to hide his upset behind humour, “She called me an emotional prick, and the waterworks started”. James and Remus gave him sad smiles, but neither fell for the attempt to change the subject as both sat either side of him on the bed. Remus reached for him first, stroking his scarred fingers through the strands of dark hair that had fallen over Sirius’ face, but only so he could kiss the area beneath. Sirius closed his eyes at the touch and leaned into it, releasing a deep sigh through his open mouth.
James grabbed each of his hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss the palms lovingly and rest them on either side of his cheeks, nuzzling into his hands. “Whatever is going on, you know we’re always here for you, Sirius”, James mutters against the palms on his face.
Sirius sighs even heavier as if trying to will the anxiety away through the breaths. “It’s my parents. I mean, should I even call them parents when they’ve already disowned me? But they’ve just sent me more threats today after what happened with Regulus yesterday. They say things like I should have let him win and wish that I had been hurt.”
He takes a moment to compose himself as you grab one of his hands from James, needing to link your fingers together and squeeze to know that it is a safe place for him to continue and talk. Sirius looked into his lap as he spoke, “They’ve burnt my face off the Black family tree. Not that I care; I expected it, but it just all feels so real now, you know? I feel like I shouldn’t even be using the surname Black with how much they detest me. I also kind of expected Regulus to have my back a little bit, but he’s young; I can’t expect that from him, especially as I know what my parents are like, but he doesn’t even say hi to me in the corridors anymore. I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little all over the place, and with the positivity yesterday, just to have my family metaphorically kick me to the curb again, I should have expected the joy wouldn’t last long”.
Sirius sounded empty and emotionless as he expressed how he was genuinely feeling, struggling to come to terms with the repercussions of the events that occurred with his family that continue to affect him.
“Fuck them”, James says with all the venom and confidence that he could muster. Sirius grunts half-heartedly at the declaration, not seemingly convinced, so James turns his face towards him so that he is looking into the stormy hazel eyes. “I’m being serious, fuck them. You’ve been my family for years now; you know my parents consider you their son as much as I am. Nothing has changed. You live with me and my parents because that is your home. Wherever any of us go is your home because we love you. We wouldn’t make you feel half as rotten as those scumbags, do you understand?”
Sirius nods, swallowing thickly, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. Before he can respond, Remus once again holds onto his face, turning him in the other direction to look at the calmest Marauder. “Sirius, next time you receive a letter from them, don’t open it. They are cruel humans who have no love for anyone but themselves and the prejudices that they live by. You had so much joy and love in your heart; don’t let them destroy you and ruin everything you cherish. And that is exactly what James has said. You’re our family. We’re each other's family. You’re ours, just like you’re mine. Get it?”
Sirius’ eyes have dried as he looks up at Remus, and briefly, a genuine smile welcomes across his face as he leans in to kiss him deeply but then pulls back.
Squeezing his hand, you draw his attention towards you. “You deserve the surname Black more than anyone because it’s what makes you, you—breaking the stereotypes of those evil people and making it mean something that doesn't symbolise hatred. However, if you want to have another surname, you can! Sirius, you’re your own person, and your surname doesn’t define you. You could even make up a whole new name! Maybe you could have one of our surnames”, Sirius laughs at the possibility of a name change. “I love you so much. Your family's opinions of you aren’t how anyone else in the castle sees you. You’re perfect the way you are, Mr Black”.
You couldn’t wait any more time to kiss him, needing to feel his lips against yours and reassure him further with these intimate touches.  Thankfully, to your pounding heart, he smiles into the kiss.
“Maybe we could put all of our surnames together”, he jokes as you move to kiss each of his cheeks. 
“If that’s what you want, I’d do it”, you reassure him with a kiss on his temple.
“Almost sounds like a proposal”, he casually mentions, causing your heartbeat to increase rapidly. Sirius smirks at your face but reassures, “Maybe we’ll sort out surnames once we’ve finished our exams”. You press your lips against his once more for reassurance until he looks between the three of you. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you three. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed before coming to Hogwarts, let alone feel love like this”.
Remus could see the tears pooling along Sirius’ lashline, so he gently cupped the side of his head, wiping away any that fell. “No more tears for them”. The gap between their lips was closed as Remus kissed him passionately, holding the back of his head carefully as they breathed each other in.
Sirius’ head dips slightly, but only to whisper against the man’s lips, “Can you make me forget? Please?”
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Sirius”. Remus kisses him again but with more urgency, pushing his body back until Sirius is lying in the centre of the bed with the taller Marauder hovering above him. Their mouths moved together as one, tongues twirling together, heads tilting one way and then the other.
As Remus distracts and devours him with his mouth, Sirius’ hands move around the back of his head, holding him close, which gives James the freedom to move his hands to Sirius’ shirt. With a simple flick of his fingers, James could undo the buttons down the centre of his chest, releasing the toned chest and abdomen of the man whose legs you were sitting between.
You watched with the sadness seeping away and becoming replaced with arousal as James leaned over and licked the nipples of the man who moaned into Remus’ mouth. James was calculated with his movements, making sure to leave teasing licks and bites over the areas that Sirius was most sensitive whilst then worshipping the perked nipples on his chest, his hands caressing the areas where fine dark hair was beginning to grow back from being previous shaved, mainly the snail trail leading beneath his trousers.
Smiling whilst watching them all move together, you were gifted the view of watching the tightness forming in his trousers as his cock grew hard and thick. Without any rush and admiring the desperate moans coming from the man on his back, you began to stroke up his thighs, over his crotch and pausing over his zipper.
Undoing it slowly, you waited to see if Sirius was even aware of what you were doing as he was so distracted with James and  Remus. However, with the sudden lift of his hips to help you pull the material down his hips, you knew he was very much aware of your intentions.
Freeing his cock from the restraint of his trousers and boxers, you watched as Sirius lowered his hips back onto the bed, and his member now throbbed on his abdomen, thick and hard. A pearly drip of precum had already formed at the tip, and you were quick to hold the base, lifting the cock until your lips were wrapped around him.
Your movements continue to be gentle and soft. Licking and sucking without any rush to build the tension and hopefully show how much you worship the ground he walks on by paying particular attention to him when he needs it most. James continues to tweak his nipples, and Remus devours his mouth, absorbing every little moan until Sirius needs to pull back to suck in air.
“Fuck, you’re all- Fuck!” Remus distracts him with his mouth once more, dominating him entirely and causing more whimpers to burst from his chest. The veiny length that was being leisurely sucked in your mouth began to harden further, throbbing as you knew he was approaching closer to his orgasm as your hands fondled his balls.
“So good for us, aren’t you, Sirius? Say it, tell us you’re ours”, James demands, pulling on the back of Remus’ hair so that Sirius can tell the group how he is feeling.
“Yes! I’m yours, I’m all of yours! I’m cumming, holy shit!” he shouts out desperately, face scrunching up like he is in pain but is actually experiencing the opposite as overwhelming pleasure pooled in his abdomen.
You moan around his cock, causing it to vibrate slightly against your tongue as his hot seed begins to coat your throat. You swallow every salty, thick liquid drop until you’re popping off and looking up at his half-lidded, satisfied grin.
James and Remus give you room to crawl up his body to kiss him sweetly. The three of you watch and admire as he comes down from the high, carefully tucking his half-hard cock back into his trousers and doing up the zipper once more.
“Thank Merlin that we have no classes this afternoon”, Sirius jokes as he rests back on the pillows with his arm behind his head. You laugh and collapse onto his chest, hugging him closely as the four of you sit in comfortable silence. You listened to the thump of his heart beneath your ear, but after a while, it increased in speed as he became restless.
“Can I tell you all a secret? I’ve um… I’ve kept all of the threatening letters they’ve sent to me, " Sirius admits as he carefully pulls out of the hug to climb out of bed and dig his way through the suitcase with his name on the side. From within, he pulls out a large stack of letters that are all opened and in the same shade of emerald as the one earlier this morning.
“You kept them all? Oh, Sirius”, you say in shock, only guessing what horrible, hateful words are written on those pieces of paper.
Sirius awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed, “Yeah. I don’t know why. Some weird part of me thought that if I burned them all, they would know and come to the school or something. But, I want to get rid of them if you’ll all help me?”
Neither of you have to answer as you climb out of the bed. After dressing appropriately, the four of you walked down to the lake, where Remus carved a hole into the soil. Sirius chucks the letters within as you all form a semi-circle.
Holding onto his left hand, Sirius raised his wand to the right, pointing it towards the letters and shouting ‘Incendio’. The four of you stand together as the letters burn. Sirius sighs shakily as he holds back tears. “It’s weird. I know people say it’s like a weight off your shoulders, but it genuinely does feel like that”.
“That’s because you’re free, Padfoot!” James shouts enthusiastically, grabbing the boy around the waist and lifting him into the air, hollering and whooping until Sirius laughs. The two crash to the ground as Remus throws his arm around your shoulders, watching the pair finally have some fun today as the smoke billows into the air surrounding you, the ash from those horrible words written on the paper disappearing across the Scottish mountains.
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steddiealltheway · 9 months
Text
Part Three of Six of Meddling ;). Part One. Part Two. AO3 Link.
Nancy drives the four of them to whatever mystery location as Steve has a minor freak out in the backseat because it’s finally hitting him that he kissed Eddie. And Eddie kissed him back. And that’s not something he wants to just breeze over and pretend never happened.  
How will things ever be the same after this?  
Steve runs a hand through his hair as reality hits a little too hard.  
“You okay?” Eddie whispers as his hand moves to rest on Steve’s knee.  
Steve glances down at the hand and squeezes it once before he replies, “Yeah.” But he knows his smile is a little too forced based on the way Eddie’s staring back at him with concern.  
The car slows to a halt.  
“We’re here!”  
Steve glances out the window, and it suddenly hits him. They’ve taken them to the bar where they first met.  
“Throwback,” Eddie breathes out.  
It had been a while since they had been back there. Things had changed over the past three years, and they had found a new bar with better acoustics for Eddie to play at when he isn’t hogging the small stage at the café where he works.  
Still, sometimes Steve misses the place where some of his best memories had formed.  
Once they get inside, nostalgia hits Steve in a way that’s almost bittersweet. Eddie must be feeling the same way based on the low whistle he lets out next to him as they look around. Nothing has really changed since they were last here.  
“We’re going to grab a table away from you guys but remember to take pictures and just text whenever you want to head out. But this is our lunch plan so eat up,” Robin says with a big smile before grabbing Nancy’s hand and pulling her to a far corner spot.  
“I’m kind of relieved that they’re not sitting with us,” Eddie admits as he and Steve walk to the opposite part of the somewhat dead bar. “Can’t wait to get that camera out of my face. I just hope they don’t try to sneak pictures of us while we’re eating.”  
Steve snorts. That sounds exactly like something Robin would do, so he does his best to find a booth where he can’t see the girls and vice versa. He eventually points at one and sits across from Eddie, and the sight of him thoroughly distracts him from any thoughts about Nancy or Robin.  
Eddie pulls out his phone and sets it down on the table. He taps on it once and asks, “What if we only did a cheesy picture of each other before we eat, with our food, and a quick selfie after we finish? Then we can just live in the moment and enjoy this.”  
Steve sticks out his hand for Eddie to shake. “Deal.”  
Eddie grabs his hand and presses a quick kiss against the back of it. “Deal,” he agrees with a wink.  
A blush starts to creep up on Steve’s face, so he ducks his head and grabs his phone – but he knows he’s not being subtle about trying to hide his face. As a new means of distraction, he hits the camera icon and quickly snaps a picture of Eddie without warning. “Pre-date picture done.” Oh, why did he have to call it a date?  
Eddie luckily brushes off his little blunder and scoffs, “No, you have to redo that. You gave me no warning!”  
Steve just laughs as Eddie pouts. Next thing he knows, Eddie’s phone is coming up and snapping a picture of him. Steve freezes. “Hey, that’s unfair.”  
Eddie snorts and presses on the picture. He frowns at it before turning his phone around. “Why do you always have to be so photogenic?”  
The picture is... very telling of everything Steve is feeling. He can practically see the joy and love radiating off himself in a way he hasn’t seen before. It’s terrifying.  
Eddie turns the phone back and clicks around a few times before proudly smiling and turning his phone off.  
“What?” Steve asks suspiciously.  
“Oh, nothing. But could you check the time on my phone?” Eddie asks, sliding it over.  
It’s a weird request, but Steve goes through with it, tapping on the screen. “It’s...” he trails off before he sees the time.  
His smiling face stares back at him as it covers the lock screen on Eddie’s phone. He glances up at Eddie who watches him somewhat anticipatorily. Steve doesn’t say anything, but he unlocks his own phone and immediately changes his lock screen to the picture he took of Eddie.  
It’s cuter than Steve thought it would be considering that he took Eddie off guard. He isn’t looking at the camera. Instead, he’s smiling softly at Steve with his dimples on full display. The only thing wrong with it is that it’s a little bit blurry, but he thinks it adds to Eddie’s general vibe.  
It’s the perfect lock screen really although he thinks Robin and Dustin might kill him for kicking them off it.  
It’s worth it.  
As Steve slides his phone to Eddie, a waiter comes by and introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Tony, I’ll be your waiter today. And the ladies over in the corner told me you two were celebrating an anniversary today?”  
Oh, no. Even from a distance, the two are meddling as much as they can. Steve is about to say no when Eddie replies, “Yes, it’s been three years since we first met in this very bar, and two years since we started dating.” He leans in toward the waiter all conspiratorially and stage whispers, “Give it a year, and I’ll probably be back to propose to him right here.”  
Steve chokes on his saliva.  
“Sorry, babe, did I say that too loud?” Eddie asks with a big smile. He turns back to the waiter. “He’s always telling me that I don’t know how to whisper.”  
It’s true, but Steve can’t say very much as he keeps coughing.  
“We’ll get two waters please,” Eddie says, starting to sound a bit concerned.  
The waiter must be too because before Steve knows it, a glass of water is being placed in front of him and he’s chugging it down. Gosh, he wishes this were a beer.  
Eventually, the coughing dies down, and Steve shoots an apologetic look at the waiter. He just smiles back and politely asks, “Do you know what you want to order?”  
Steve shakes his head and swipes the water off his mouth. “Haven’t looked at the menu yet, we were too busy... reminiscing.” Since when is he playing along with the lie?  
“No worries. You two take your time and happy anniversary.” The waiter quickly dismisses himself, and Steve is left to stare at Eddie.  
“Why would you do that?”  
Eddie throws his hands up. “One, this is great practice for faking a relationship, lets us establish some backstory. And most importantly, two, celebrating an anniversary means a free dessert.”  
“We’re at a bar, not a Chili’s.”  
“There’s still the potential!” Eddie argues back. “Please, Steve, my love, my sweetheart, my muffin-”  
“Please never call me your muffin ever again,” Steve says, cringing.  
Eddie sighs but then a mischievous grin slowly appears on his face. This can’t be good. “I promise not to call you that if you pretend to be my boyfriend of two years during this lunch.”  
The payoff is quite great, but he can’t let Eddie know that, So, Steve takes his time rolling his eyes and pretending to weigh the pros and cons of it all while Eddie shakes the table with how hard he’s bouncing his leg.  
Steve reaches under the table and grabs his knee to still it. “You have yet another deal. But you have to stop shaking the table, too.”  
“Sorry,” Eddie apologizes bashfully. He quickly moves on when he realizes Steve’s phone is still on the table and taps on the screen. He smiles at it and pushes the phone back. “Not as bad as I thought.”  
“Not bad? It’s perfect,” Steve scoffs as he grabs one of the menus at the end of the table.  
He doesn’t get a response, but Eddie is smiling at his menu when Steve glances up.  
Eventually, they put in their food order and chat about random things just to catch up a bit although Steve talks to Eddie every day – usually in person but occasionally over text.  
Then, Eddie randomly throws out the question, “So, are you seeing anyone?”  
Steve swallows hard and shakes his head. “No, are you?”  
“No,” Eddie replies.  
Steve tries and fails to hide a smile. They both know if they started dating someone the other would be one of the first to know, but it’s cute that Eddie asked.  
Their food comes out, and their conversation halts for a bit while they eat. But the relationship conversation plays over and over again in Steve’s head until Eddie interrupts his thoughts. “Man, I can’t believe it’s only been three years since I met you.”  
Steve laughs and finishes chewing his fry. “It feels like I’ve known you longer.”  
“Technically you have, if you count all the times Dustin mentioned my name before we met.”  
“Could’ve met sooner if I hadn’t been so afraid that you would be a weird nerd,” Steve teases him.  
“Hey, you know I’m both of those things, so don’t say it like it’s an insult,” Eddie says with a smile.  
“Well, I didn’t think those two things could be hot together, so excuse me for assuming,” Steve replies while shoving a fry into his mouth.  
Eddie leans forward. “You think I’m hot?” he asks as if he’s teasing him, but Steve can hear a bit of the uncertainty in his tone, so instead of shaming himself for admitting it he shrugs.  
“Always have.”  
Eddie stares at him for a few seconds before he clears his throat and changes the subject, “You should’ve worn the yellow sweater.”  
The comment startles a laugh out of Steve. “Of course you would bring that up. I’ve never understood your obsession with the thing.”  
“Well, there’s a reason I brought it up now.”  
“Oh really,” Steve says raising his eyebrows, not ready for whatever line Eddie has prepared. “And why’s that?”  
“It’s what you were wearing when we first met,” Eddie says as if it’s nothing.  
It takes Steve entirely off guard. His stomach does a little flip. “You remember what I was wearing after all this time?”  
“Yeah,” Eddie says but quickly moves on to ask, “Speaking of that night, what happened to that girl you were with?” He looks away as he asks the question, taking one of Steve’s fries but still not looking him in the eye as he eats it.  
Steve tries to shake off the little piece of information Eddie just gave up as thinks back. He shrugs. “Nothing happened there. I was actually on a date with her that night. She left after we met. Told me I should go out with you instead since I hadn’t paid her any attention since the moment I laid eyes on you.”  
Eddie glances back up at him, holding so much intensity in his gaze. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”  
“Because I didn’t think I had a chance and didn’t want to risk getting my heart broken.”  
Eddie stares at him, and Steve thinks that they both feel it. All the time they lost that they could’ve potentially spent together if Steve would’ve said something three years ago. But maybe Eddie is thinking something entirely different.  
“Steve-”  
“Hi, I hope everything is tasting alright. Also, I have a dessert on the house for you two. Happy anniversary, and I hope to see you two next year,” the waiter says as he slides the check on the table. Steve swears that he has the same bad timing as Robin and glares at the man as he turns his back.  
“Steve-” Eddie tries again, but then, speak of the devil, Robin is suddenly scooting into the booth next to him and making grabby hands at the dessert.  
“I love free dessert,” she says. “Thanks for going through with it. I thought it would be good practice.” It’s a clear lie based on the way she’s staring at the chocolate cake.  
Nancy gives Steve an apologetic smile as Robin steals his spoon and digs in.  
Steve shoots Eddie a look trying to convey, we’ll talk later.  
He gets a sad smile in response, then they both pick up their forks and take a bite of the cake. Steve can barely enjoy it as he knows that the fate of his and Eddie’s relationship might rely on their next conversation. But Nancy and Robin also won’t leave them alone.  
This is not good.  
Part Four
Tag List :
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lottie150209 · 3 months
Text
TASK FORCE 141 x afab femreader, MDNI!!!
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Tags: simon riley x reader, ghost x reader, call of duty, cod mw2, simon ghost riley, cod x reader, cod smut, kyle gaz garrick mw2, kyle gaz garrick x reader, gaz mw2, gaz cod, call of duty smut, john price, price cod, john price smut, soap mactavish, john soap mactavish, soap cod, soap smut
cw: topics of you cheating on Simon, slight non consent from Price, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), four men on one woman, slight degradation, humiliation topics, choking kink, underwear sniffing/ licking kink, orgasm denial, aggressive attitude, breast play, teasing.
A/N: Sorry i’ve been gone so long I’ve kind of found it hard to find the effort to write!! I have some more ideas coming though and slowly but surely i’m pushing through this. Apologies if this short story may seem a little rushed in places or confusing, I just felt I had to get it done and dusted so I probably isn’t the greatest thing ever!! I hope you enjoy though !! 🎀
You woke up on a dark wooden floor, skin burning from the cold and in nothing but your frilly pink knickers. Your back, brushed against the rough material of an old sofa and the smell of an unfamiliar place filled your nostrils.
Your head is pounding to the same hungover beat of the clubs music last night and finally, you open your eyes. Vision clearing up at the sight of a used condom sprawled out under a clear topped, oak-wooden coffee table.
Where the hell am I? Who’s apartment am I in?
Last night you and your boyfriend Simon had gotten into a heated argument over something minor. As minutes turned into hours of you two going forwards and backwards insulting each other you decided to leave. Slamming your apartment door and heading towards a club your friends were at. Which was now obviously a horrible decision.
A few drinks down and you were completely blacked out, needing something to release your anger, and from the sight of the shrivel up, cum covered latex, it was clear to anyone you found just that. You blinked blindly at the floor, trying to piece together everything and the reality of the situation hit you harshly.
Did I seriously fucking cheat on Simon?
Bile formed in your throat and a dark unsettling channeled through your stomach: watering your eyes and filling disgust and discomfort within yourself. Your nose stung with tears that threatened to spill but before you could even act, a dark figure hovered from above you. It’s shadow grabbing your phone from the table in-front of you.
Reflexively you shot up, taking your weak arms and covering your bare chest as you turn to face the figure, your mouth falling dry as a familiar set of dark eyes scanned your face.
Simon stood there dressed in his military uniform, mask on with his phone in one hand and yours in the other. His expression was unreadable but from what you can figure he must be immensely pissed. The door behind him had clearly been broken into and as you open your mouth to speak his phone beeps, signifying his and your phones are in the same location.
“Simon, Look! I’m so sorry! I don’t even know what happened!” You spat out, standing up to reach your inside out t-shirt and pulling it over your head. Everything felt faded and distorted like you were stuck in a nightmare. The silence between you two was a murderous storm of emotion and raindrops of tears began to fall onto your cheeks. Simon however didn’t utter a word, his face unreadable behind his mask. It was like he didn’t care about anything and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a horrible one.
It was like looking through a dead man’s eyes and for once you truly understood the meaning of “Ghost”.
“Please Simon Please! Let’s just go home and talk about it? I’m so sorry! I was drunk and out of my mind! I’m so fucking sorry Simon!” But nothing made him budge. He just kept staring at you, dark brown eyes that would visually kiss down the soft skin of your body, now showing no emotion, no affection and no care. Your words changed nothing about this situation but you knew that even before opening your mouth. No matter how much you plead and cry, nothing could be done. You seriously fucked up.
“Get your shit together. We’re fucking leavin’. ” He growled out, crimson coating every word as he turned his head to look at my scattered clothes. You didn’t question him and you instantly did as he said-fumbling for the rest of your things, slipping on shoes and wasting no time to grabbing your bag. He watched you as you did this, like he was silently judging every move you made.
As if you were a new person to him, a stranger he’d only just met.
After you dressed yourself, the two of you left the stranger’s apartment instantly. No goodbyes or apologies, leaving the poor unknown man alone in his shower. Footsteps followed you out onto the sidewalk and you slipped into Simons car. His aroma filled the air and eloped with the guilt and pain in your stomach.
Why was I so stupid? How could I have done that to him?
“Simon..” You started but you couldn’t finish. His eyes that were once watching the road now settled on your face. You shook your head almost confirming to yourself you couldn’t say anything else; his blank expression rose to the road again. The ride was silent and hurtful, the pain in your gut a knife stabbing you over and over with every slight bump in the road.
The car came to a holt as he parked outside. Without a word you leaped out and stomped up the moss covered stairs before slamming your front door open and barging inside.
It didn’t make any sense why he brought you home, surely he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me. He realised what I did right? Why didn’t he just leave me?
Simons hesitant footsteps followed behind you as he shut the door gently and walked over to you. Something else was off with him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been mad at you but this time was fucking terrifying. His patiently calm body language and slow speed contradicted his furious demeanour and it goosebumps coated your arms.
Trying to keep it in but obviously failing you broke down in-front of him. Confused cries and helpless sobs cascades through your body and you felt the pain in almost every organ: your lungs, your stomach and heart. This is ridiculous, i’m not the one that should be hurting here.
Your hands started to shake, your vision blurring as tears uncontrollably fell. ‘Stop crying.’ you shouted at yourself it was no use. Your emotions spiralled out of control.
Simons hand cupped one of your cheeks, the rough and scarred skin on his fingers wiping tears away. You were reluctant to keep him so close to you after how badly you hurt him, but you didn’t want to risk making the situation any worse. It made no sense but you couldn’t help but sink into his warm palm. A kiss was planted against the same cheek he rubbed and Simons still dead eyes glared daggers into your sorrowful ones.
“Have a sleep on the couch. I’ll be back later.” He said in an almost whisper before walking out of the house, shutting the door and leaving you alone. For a moment your mind fell blank and weakly fell down on the couch.
A sharp pain in your neck that you didn’t feel before now ached and you realised how uncomfortably you slept before on that wooden floor. Your legs also ached but you decided not to focus on that since that could’ve been from last night and you wanted to forget it all. Even if it was absolutely impossible to you could at least try.
What should I do? What the fuck is even happening?
Still your hands trembled as more and more tears fell from your face, you took a deep breath. You’re crying because of something you’ve done- it was pathetic.
You had absolutely no right to cry, you hurt Simon and now there’s nothing you could do. His words hung around your head and suddenly your eyes felt heavy. He did want you to sleep so it was for the best you did that right? Even if it’s just for ten minutes. Plus it would probably help my head clear and we could tackle this issue later. Together.
Shutting your damp eyes, your head hit the fluffy cushion on the sofa and you felt yourself drift off to sleep, thinking of Simon and regretting everything you’ve done. Hopefully when you wake up, he had cleared his mind a little, Hopefully when you wake up, he’ll take you back into his loving arms and hug you and tell you ‘It’s okay, we all make mistakes, doll.’ But you could only hope.
When your eyes opened, it didn’t take long for you to register it had been a bit more than just ten minutes. The apartment lights were still off from earlier and the sun from outside had set already, casting an orange hue through the windows. Your head ached from all the crying earlier and you suddenly remembered the situation you are in.
Holy fuck, I need to talk to Simon.
But before you could begin to get up off of the sofa your eyes flicked to your right. Catching a glance at the three random men staring at you.
Your throat ran dry and a shriek like gasp fell from your partially dry lips. One of them was sat on the other sofa, horizontal from you. His hair dark and in a sort of mohawk style, his face had a little bit of stubble on his chin and his eyes flashed away from yours back to the others.
Another guys sat sprawled out on the armchair. His gaze was much harsher and more intense than the others. It was like he was trying to see through you, like he was some king looking down on his dainty little servant. His breathing was visible and you took in how his chest rose and fell shakily.
And for the final guy, he stood between the couch and chair in-front of you. His arms folded across his broad chest and the faint remains of a smirk glued to his handsome face. He looked younger than the other too and you swallowed the saliva that was stuck in your throat. Pondering on what to say to them but a voice cut you off.
“So the cheat has finally chosen to wake up?” The man in the chair said, a deep chuckle slipping out matching the smugness in his eyes. You scanned their bodies again going by each and every one of them and finally it clicked who they were. They were Simons teammates. Simon had been begging for you to meet them, to introduce his only love to the people he trusted with his life. And now they are here, calling you a cheater. What a great first impression. Fighting the yawn that was yearning to leave your lips, you locked eyes with the man who was sat on your sofa.
“Simon isn’t here.. So you may as well come back tomorrow and check.” You muttered. Simon had told you earlier he’d be back and since they had clearly sat down to wait for him you figured he wasn’t home yet. You’d be lucky if he returned home at all actually. The overwhelming guilt from earlier flooded back through you, overpowering your thoughts yet again. You knew the sleep would make you forget temporarily but it was almost harder to swallow down your emotions for a second time. The guy that was sat on the chair stood up, clenching his knees with a deep sigh. He began to walk over to you, hunching over and his size intimidated you slightly; he was taller than you thought. Oceanic eyes pierced through yours, awakening some sort of emotion that made your stomach rattle uneasily.
Where is Simon? I hope he comes home soon.
“Let us introduce ourselves..” His dark gravelly voice spoke and his lip lifted up in a smirk as he itches closer to my face. “I’m Price, that’s Soap over there on that settee and that’s Gaz..” His head nodded in the various directions as he mentioned each name. You felt as your eyes indecisively flicked between each of them before focusing on the white ceiling like some nervous child. Price exhaled in amusement before turning to glance at the others and giving a short nod.
“You see my lovey, our boy Simon means an awful lot to us..” He began. His voice smooth however the huskiness added texture, like a mix of sandpaper and silk. Burning eyes left yours for a second and his blue pupils latched onto your lips. “And when he gets agitated with a girl,” Soap and Gaz walked towards us swiftly. Gaz positioned himself on Prices left while Soap took the right, finishing his friends sentence with a thick Scottish accent. “So do we.”
Slowly, you let your eyes shut for a minute, gut summersaulting and face a burning mess. Not only had you utterly ruined the relationship between you and Simon, you had now upset his friends. Although you knew it was horrible to think like that, but a part of you felt more intimidated by the fact his friends were angry with you. Simon had limits, he had boundaries that you was aware of. But this was the first time you’d met them. You had no idea what they could do to you and how far they’d take things. You sat there as the three men towered above you, with three pairs of eyes staring back at you. They wouldn’t do anything too bad, right?
“And when we get agitated, we don’t play nice. Do we?” His face turned to his sides directing the questions at the two by his sides. My heart throbbed all around my body in right places and wrong ones and a sense of dread fell down into my stomach. Simon was bound to pissed with you- absolutely furious even and here his friends are. Talking like this with you, in that tone. It could just be an innocent little encounter of them threatening me to not hurt Simon again.
But the way his voice teased out every word made it hard to believe that. You gulped thickly at what they could be insinuating, your head racing wildly with thoughts that you shouldn’t be having.
Your mouth widened to protest but Price cut me off, turning to the guy on his left, giving him a look as the other smirked. His legs danced on the spot to the left and right before he was facing me again, his hand rubbing his chin, fingers massaging his jaw. Your eyes furrowed and locked onto him. He was thinking about something, but what? And just like the universe was listening to your queries, he dove for my chin. Holding it up hard with his index finger and stroking your lips with his thumb. You could smell the tobacco on his breath as his eyes were locked onto your lips, staring deeply.
He scanned each and every little crack and he rubbed the flesh smiling to himself. His sight drifted back to you.
“You’re lips are stunning girl,” Almost on que, Soap came from behind him and hovered over you, threading his fingers through the waistband of your bottoms and dragging them down. What the hell? Your lips parted and Prices thumb fell slightly however before you could shrug him off his whole other hand covered your mouth, innocent blue eyes darkened and began to look more grey as a sinister half-smirk half-snarl forced upon his lips.
“I wanna see the other lips too.” Your breathing hitched and the fear on your face must have been visible as Gaz let out a laugh and Soap began threading your feet out of your bottoms. The heat on your cheeks had travelled down into your stomach and you just knew your eyes faltered for a moment. All thoughts dissipated when reality slipped back for a second. Simon, you had already hurt him. Imagine if he finds out about this, about his close friends stripping you down and teasing you. About his cheating lying slut of a woman had snuck behind his back and taken on not one but three of them. You couldn’t let his happen, You had to stop this.
Prices hand grabbed hold of your clothed sex, smirking in delight as the slick stuck to your panties, warmed his fingers. A hum left his lips while a gasped moan left yours. The same thumb from before circled your clothed clit, the one place that made you vulnerable. Soap and Gaz had both inched back forward, closing you in like a little box. Your focus glued on Prices actions. He was so clearly experienced, finding the clit so fast and circling it at the right speed. Not too slow but not fast. Your eyes fell shut again as it began to feel good, the sound of his voice opening them a little while later.
“Simon told me all about this little thing,” He pressed his finger into your clit almost like a button, the pressure was hard and for such a sensitive part of your body you whined.
“He told us all about how you like it. The way you don’t like going to fast and how slow is good but you don’t want it too take too long and spoil the moment. He spoke to us about how wet this little girl gets when being tended too. We all thought he was joking but fuck.” His apples adam bobbed in his throat as he swallowed the saliva stored up in his throat. The hunger in his eyes enough to make a man’s stomach growl. He was starving.
“Gaz, get her knickers off. I need to have a taste.” You twitched down there and your eyeballs nearly jumped out of their sockets. The thin fabric of your underwear slipping down your thighs before you could even process what he said. Prices breathing hitched as he locked eyes with your pussy. Unable to look at him out of embarrassment you lifted your eyes back to Gaz to catch what him and Soap were doing.
Soaps hands crashed together as my now screwed up underwear few from Gaz to Soap like it was some basketball. ‘How lovely’ you thought. Shockingly though, Soap caught it with no ease, shaking it out and holding it from the top to get a better look. Prices finger touched against your bare pussy and he held it there for a few seconds, his eyes watching as you looked at Soap no doubt.
Soft blue eyes, unlike Prices store into yours as he brought your panties to his face and placed the damped crotch to his nose. Taking a slow and long sniff and savouring your erotic scent. For a moment you swore you watched his eyes roll back and a twitch come from the bulge in his military uniform. His tongue quickly gushed out his mouth, licking a line from where you’d worn them, tasting my flavourful nectar and grunting. You looked away too embarrassed at this point and a groan fell from his mouth.
“Little beamer tastes great Cap, go on ‘ave a taste.” Your cheeks flared hotter and you tried to squeeze your thighs together preventing him but he caught you before. Spreading you wide open and putting you on display. All of their eyes were locked onto your aching slit and you felt the heat burn down your neck. Beard hairs tickled your inner thighs and a warm tongue swiped down you. Shivering you felt how wet and smooth his tongue was on your clit and he began to worship you, taking the focus away from your embarrassment to your pleasure. His lips slapped against your flaps and you cursed yourself mentally, knowing you was probably soaking his beard. You squeezed your eyes shut and let yourself relax as you soaked in deeper and deeper. He ate you like a mad man and you were lost in lust.
It felt like hours before you began to get close and the thought of what the other two were doing crossed your mind. You looked up to find both Soap and Gaz shirtless, their scars and scratches visible and showing off, making there already sexy body even hotter. Price began to growl into you and you let out a cry feeling close. Your pussy throbbed harder and harder and you felt it in your throat. You couldn’t stop your legs as they began to shake. You were going to cum, you were about to fucking cum. But then it all faded.
Price drug his tongue away, a clear string of spit, cum or whatever joint his beard to you. His breath was heavy and his delicate and gentle fingers from before fell down giving you a gentle slap on the clit. What, why? All he did was look down on you and he ripped off his military gauntlets and vest taking off the top below. Three half naked muscular men staring from infront of you while you sat there panting, pussy on show and drunk on the pleasure they were giving you. For a punishment, this wasn’t a hell of a lot bad. Your eyebrows furrowed as you locked your eyes back on Price.
“Why? Why did you do that? I was close.” Your tone spat out like a spoiled brat but he just smirked gesturing his arms to the two other gentlemen stood there. You had to hold yourself back from moaning as you realised what he was signifying.
“I wouldn’t dream of taking all the fun now, would I?” Soap and Gaz stepped forward, the same starving expression plastered on their face as Prices. The couch bobbed down as Soaps weight fell next to you and he leant over, tearing off your T-shirt, revealing your bare breasts. He must’ve been surprised you weren’t wearing a bra but he clearly wasn’t complaining. Snatching your left nipple in between his teeth and squeezing the other one harshly. Gaz on the other hand, knelt down between your legs but instead of tasting you, he slowly dragged his finger up and down between your folds.
“Has she been good enough Sir? Does she deserve my fingers?” He asked Price or so you assumed, Price just let out a laugh and Gaz licked his lips slowly eyeing up how we you were. Admiring as your clear juices lubricated his fingers.
“You’re absolutely soaking, my love. My finger would slip in like butter.” You whimpered as them dirty words left his lips. You needed either his mouth on you or his fingers deep inside, the pleasure was getting too much for you. You were too far gone now to back out.
You squeezed your mouth shut, lips quivering as you felt his finger prod your tight entrance. You cried out a loud moan as his finger rammed into you hard and started fucking you slowly.
Tears welled up in your drunken eyes as he abused your g spot over and over again and although it felt good, you didn’t feel your stomach knot or feel yourself get close again; It wouldn’t give you the orgasmic feeling you were chasing after. You were being used and after some time it began to burn a little. Through your shakes and sobs, Soaps teeth sunk into your breasts again, leaving hickeys on your soft skin. The roughness from the two men leaving you flustered. They were completely different from Price, they were savage. You winced and closed your eyes, the pain more prominent than the pleasure. Footsteps walked over to Gaz who was still between your thighs and Price placed his two hands on his shoulders.
“Slower Gaz, take your time and work her.” Gaz looked up at Price nodding and then he worked his fingers into you slowly, taking note at how your back arched and trembled at the feeling.
Fuck this was good. You found myself muttering words, a few pleases there and many yeses, it was embarrassing but you couldn’t even think. His hands continued to penetrate you slowly and softly, not harsh and not fast and it felt heavenly. His other hand slid onto your bladder and he weighted a bit of pressure onto it, making his fingers feel deeper and deeper inside. Your stomach twisted and you needed more. You wanted one of their cocks deep inside you but you were Simon’s.
You couldn’t be wanting that, You shouldn’t even be doing this. You’ve cheated on him once before and now, with his friends? You thought about stopping it but there was something about the way they tended to you that refrained me from that. The way they moved and caressed your body; you couldn’t pull away just yet. You needed to cum and you would wait here until they let you.
Fingers pumped into you faster as Gaz sped up matching your shaking breaths and moans. Every now and then he’d curl his fingers into you and cackle at how your legs shook before he ripped them out teasing you. Every muscle in your body felt tense and he worked you until the familiar feeing swarmed deep in your stomach. You found yourself slowly grinding against his fingers, desperate for that sensation to explode inside you and all three of them exchanged looks. Of course you were embarrassed but fuck it, in that moment you couldn’t help but be taken away by your wishes. The feeling inside you started to amplify and your whole body ran hot and suddenly you were coming to the edge. Your breathing stoped as you held your breath unconsciously but instead of exhaling as you came, you found yourself being chocked.
Thick, familiar fingers tightened the grip on your throat as you felt your orgasm travel through you. You couldn’t breathe, what the hell was he doing? And then you froze. The three men were still in front of you. Gaz had his fingers inside you and on your bladder, Soap was busy playing with your tits and Price was admiring your pretty, lewd face as his hands clenched around Gaz.
“Pull your fingers out Gaz.” Simon demanded, hands still squeezing your throat from behind the sofa. His voice melted into your ears like hot honey and your cum gushed out of your hole and coated the fingers inside. With a smirk, Gaz yanked them out and licked them clean, standing up and walking over to Price as they reached for their shirts. What?
Your head felt dizzy and just like earlier things went back to making no sense. Did Simon just walk in? You scanned the men’s faces again but they weren’t alarmed or worried, they were fine. Simon let go of you partially, his hands rubbing soothing circles down your back. The sweat on your forehead shone in the sunset and you turned around to face Simon in attempt explain but he cut you off, passionately kissing you. His tongue tickled against your lips and he pulled away with a demeaning smirk on his face, chocolate eyes drowning deeply in yours.
“If you wanted another man to toy with, jus’ let me know, yeah? I don’t mind if you want to switch things up for a bit. Just make sure it’s one of these fine gents.” You blinked and scanned his face to see if he was being sarcastic or trying to see if you’d take the bate but there was nothing but honesty. He planted another solemn kiss on your cheek and let out a chuckle, rubbing your turning to his teammates who were now fully dressed.
“I’ve got to say Simon, you’ve caught yourself a good lass.” Soap said with a chuckle, looking down at me with some remaining hunger. Prices turned to face us too, his nonchalant expression turned into another seductive grin. Simon just smiled to himself and looked back down at you. Your confused but relieved expression warming his heart and hardening his cock and he couldn’t look away.
“I know, she’s fuckin’ fun to please, ain’t ya?”
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Text
Memories II
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, mention of injury, amnesia, alcohol mixed with meds
Summary: You had your memory wiped after a messed-up mission. All that you remember is your childhood and fragmented glimpses of your teenage and adult years. Poor Simon, your would-be hubby, is left to pick up the pieces when you can't even recall his existence.
Words: 1.8k
A/N: I had so much fun writing this! Hope you like it🤍
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
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It was close to 8 o’clock when Simon lit a cigarette, the red end glowing in the darkness. The smoke curled up above him into the starless night, forming swirling patterns as it dissipated. He sat on the cold roof of the barracks, his legs stretched out before him and his back resting against the wall. His mask was rolled up to just below his nose, exposing his full lips set in a stoic expression.
The back of his head hurt, his muscles ached, and his stomach rumbled. He had a crick in his neck, and his butt was numb. He had been up there for almost an hour now, and the pack of cigarettes laid empty next to him. It had become a habit for him to go up there after visiting you in the hospital, a temporary escape from reality and a way to manage his worries.
His hands were rough and callused, strong, sturdy, and dependable. His hands cradled the cigarette. The tip of the cigarette glowed red hot in the night air; the paper began to burn his fingers. The heat felt good, the only sensation on his body that told him he was alive. The smoke rose slowly and smelled good, almost relaxing.
His expression was grim as he gazed into the distance. There, in the darkening sky, he saw a streak of lightning in the distance, and he thought of you, lying alone in that sterile hospital room, unable to remember him. 
The only rule he had up there on that roof was not to think about anything about your condition — it was like a game of Taboo, and he had lost again.
He mumbled a curse under his breath.
When the doctors told him that you had suffered a traumatic injury to the hippocampus, he felt like the worst kind of monster was released from his cage. His heart sank and did not stop falling. He blamed himself for not being there when it happened.
Your childhood memories were still intact, but everything else seemed blurry and disjointed. Even some of your teenage years and early adulthood felt like a fog, leaving only fragmentary recollections in their wake.
The only tangible proof that the love you two shared for each other existed was the band of gold around your finger. He had stored it away carefully like a hidden treasure after you handed it back to him with tears in your eyes, telling him that you didn’t know who he was.
 “Mind if I join you?”
 He turned to see Price standing behind him, a cigar between his fingers, igniting the end with a few flicks of a match.
 “Be my guest.”
 Price sat beside him; their two forms a perfect contrast in the dark. While Simon appeared troubled, Price was relaxed, his expression peaceful despite the gloomy surroundings.
“The storm’s almost here,” Price blew a plume of smoke. “But it won’t last for long.”
 “But until it does, it’ll be a bloody mess.”
 “How’s she holdin’ up?”
 “It ain’t good.”They sat silently for a while, the only sounds being the gentle rustle of the leaves in the wind and the quiet but steady pattern of raindrops hitting the pavement.
Price took another drag from his cigar, sending a cloud of smoke into the air. “You want my opinion?”
 “Sure”
 “You’re pushing too hard.”
 Simon stared at him in silence. He couldn’t deny that Price was right — but he was struggling to accept it.
“She doesn’t remember a bloody thing,” he said. “At times, she acts as if she’s trying like there’s something in the back of her mind. But then nothing.” He tossed the cigarette over the edge of the roof and continued. “I try so bloody damned hard, but no matter what I do, it doesn’t work. And then she gets pissed off at me.”
 “I know... but giving up isn’t an option, is it? I know you’re not like that.”
Simon rested his hands in his pockets and stared at the distance, contemplating. The rain kept dropping lazily around them while the storm threw its wrath over the city.
Then, finally, he spoke. “No... no, I don’t want to give up. But it’s so hard, Price. Got nothin’ to cling on to,” He muttered under his breath. “I... I jus’ wish I could do much more.”
 Price’s voice was low and soothing, as if he were carefully measuring each word before speaking. “You can’t make her mind rush to remember. It’s gotta sort itself out in its own time.”
 Simon fell silent. He wanted to believe Price’s soothing words—he really did—but his own anxiety and frustration made it difficult, if not impossible.
 Price crushed his cigar under his foot.” C’mon. Let’s go back inside. Come on, mate.”
 As he stood, an unspoken understanding passed between them. He extended his arm in a silent offer of assistance; Simon hesitated, then leaned forward and clasped Price’s hand, letting the other man haul him to his feet. 
 They headed back inside; the barrack’s warm lights and dry air were a welcome contrast to the cold outside.
“You okay?” he asked again as Simon shook off the rain.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Go home, get an early night.”
Simon knew he should argue and tell Price he didn’t need special treatment. But he couldn’t. He was too tired.
“You’re right. I’ll head home.”
Coming home was particularly hard for him. The silence was deafening; it felt like it was drowning him, just as the memory loss was drowning you. 
As he opened the door to his house, a wave of cold emptiness washed over him. The home that was once filled with laughter and love seemed empty without you there. He missed the familiar sound of your voice as it echoed through the halls, mocking him in its absence while coming back from yet another hospital visit. All of your memories were tainted by your illness; your happiness had been swallowed up by the silence of your lack of speech and his inability to bring you back to yourself. His heart ached as he remembered the woman you'd been before the terrible accident and wished that he could bring back the person you used to be.
To make the atmosphere more bearable, he adopted some strategies that helped to create a better atmosphere in his house. One of them was to keep the TV always on with an old show like Buffy or some other show playing. You’d never go to bed until you had watched at least one episode.
He tossed his clothes onto a chair, the mask on the floor and climbed into bed wearing just his boxer shorts. His body ached from the long day, but it was the throbbing in his head that gave him the most problems. He sighed heavily as he lay down, trying to will away the pain.
The bed creaks and groans as he moves in it.
The sound of the TV fell on deaf ears. He couldn't hear anything but the echo of your voice in his head. It haunted him.
Lying there, he remembered the feeling of being close to you. He could feel your body against his, the curves of your shoulder and hip pressing into him, and the softness of your skin as he traced his fingers down your arm or ran them lightly through your hair. He longed to feel that closeness again, to be enveloped in the scent of you. He missed the sweet smell of your hair filled his nose as he buried his face in your neck.
Your perfume lingers in the sheets, like a ghost clinging to the pillows. 
He reached out and ran his hand along the empty space beside him, imagining that you were there. His heart ached for you, and he felt a lump form in his throat. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever. The realisation that he might never have you back brought tears to his eyes, and he struggled to hold them back.
He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He couldn't force you to remember, no matter how hard he tried. As he drifted off to sleep, he knew that the only thing he could do was to love you, always and forever, no matter what.
It took some time for him to drift off, and even then, he would wake up. Because there was no escape, he was forced to relive the mission that left him broken every night.
The sound of your crying and screaming, begging for your life.
He heard them every night. He heard them over the gunshots and the sound of grenades. He heard the sounds of your yelling at him to let go of your hand and save himself. Then, the screams went silent. He woke up like every night, drenched in sweat, the sheets wrapped around his legs.
The TV was loud, and Sarah Gellar was battling some vampires. Simon shook his head, wiping the sweat away from his forehead before shutting off the TV.
“Bloody hell...” he muttered.
He ran his hand harshly across his face, desperately trying to erase the image of you being thrown backwards from a powerful explosion and your body lying motionless on the cold ground. He could smell the scent of burnt skin and matted hair. He shivered in horror, reached for the small bottle of whiskey kept on the bedside table, and took a swig directly from the bottle.
It doesn’t help, he told himself; it never does.
The bottle was nearly depleted, having been his faithful companion during the weeks of solitude.
His head was spinning painfully, and his body was cold.
You’re a mess.
He grunted as he stood and stumbled towards the bathroom; the hardwood flooring felt cool against his bare feet.
He opened the cabinet, deliberately not looking into the mirror. His fingers found a bottle of Nembutal, and he grabbed it, his palm slick from the whiskey bottle. He tossed two pills down his throat, hoping for a dreamless sleep.
 —
He jolted awake some hours later to the buzz of his phone and immediately regretted it. A throbbing ache exploded behind his eyes and spread throughout his head and neck. He groggily fumbled for the device, holding it up to his ear without shielding his eyes from the harsh light of morning streaming through the window. 
“Who’s this?” he croaked.
“Mr Riley, it’s Doctor Badel...” The tone in his voice was tired, exasperated. “She’s not cooperating with their prescribed treatment plan.”
The words felt heavy in the air, and the silence that followed was thick with tension. It was as if the entire room was holding its breath.
Simon cursed under his breath, muscles clenching and his jaw tightening. 
“ I’m on my way.”
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Tags: @8sy-errah8 @yyiikes @spencerreidisbae123 @oranoyaora @sae1kie
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follows-the-bees · 6 months
Text
2x3 Filmmaking Analysis
Editing and cinematography breakdown of the purgatory and mermaid scene in The Innkeeper.
I haven't talked much about editing in all of my previous breakdowns of this season, but I want to start talking about that, and I'm starting with this scene. The whole of 2x3 contains exceptional editing between what is happening in Ed's gravy basket purgatory and the real world.
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We start with Stede on the stairs, quiet, only a deep inhale of despair is heard, the heartbreak already evident on his face. He holds up a lamp, one of the only sources of light in the "reality" scenes. Lighthouses and golden lighting in general have been used in both seasons to symbolism the love between Ed and Stede. Stede is literally carrying this light with him, and he sets it down next to Ed's head shining the light onto him. Stede is the one who puts the glow on Ed's face.
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The editing then cuts to Ed in Purgatory as he hits the water, a giant light behind him, but he starts to sink away from it, becomes surrounded by water, recalling back to 1x4 when he talks about how he feels like he is just treading. Water shows Ed's mental state: he's expressed in the past that he feels like he's drowning, he wants to stay at sea forever, be the bird who doesn't touch ground, etc.
We end this shot with Ed's bare feet the most visible in the dark blue abyss of the ocean. And in a direct parallel, the next edit is to Stede's feet - which are wrapped in BLUE-dyed fabric, with RED lining - walking into the waterlogged cabin. This immediate cut between their two feet in water shows how Stede is meeting Ed in both worlds. They are together in the water, in the deep blue depth, their connection only picks up from there.
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While talking to Hornigold, Ed professed that he didn't think anyone was waiting for him. And he still has that mindset as he starts to sink.
Stede sits quietly down next to Ed, lovingly calls him a nut, and debates about taking the cloth off of Ed's face. We know Stede to be a boisterous man, not afraid to talk, but his voice is quiet here, the sentences short. He covers his face with his hands, hiding and comforting himself. Stede is rendered speechless when he's faced with earth-shattering grief and this all encompassing sorrow tells the audience just how much pain Stede is in.
Stede pulls off the cloth from Ed's face, once again taking a shaky inhale of breath to prepare himself, and the show cuts to Ed's eyes opening in the water as he starts to fight, pulling on the rope tugging him down.
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The editing takes us back and forth between Ed struggling with the rope in Purgatory to his fingers and hand twitching as he fights in the real world, all voiced over by Stede's mournful apologies to Ed. When Stede's voice comes through to Ed, it sounds muffled, like it has to travel through a tube to get to him - through the water and Ed's coma-induced brain.
As soon as Stede touches Ed's hand in the real world, squeezing it, Ed stops sinking further into the watery depths, and instead his focus is before him where a large light has appeared. This editing shows how Ed feels Stede's presence, not only his voice but how the touch grounds him, or at least prevents him from further sinking.
Stede's voice changes here, getting louder as he yells at Ed to come back to him. The quiet grief is replaced by twinges of hope, the deep sobs escape in raspy pains of anguish.
The light first appears to Ed in Purgatory when Stede holds his hand, and as Stede starts to hammer on his chest, to try and bring some life into him, the scene cuts to Ed seeing movement in the light as Stede in mermaid form starts to swim closer.
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The scene then goes from both POVs to just Ed's. We see the rope come off as he decides to live. We can hear the muffled cries of Stede breaking in from the real world, and we see a sequence of scenes from the first season of Ed and Stede as Ed remembers all of their moments together.
Right when Stede pounds his chest for the last time and says he will never leave again, that's when the mermaid version of him comes into full focus. And we again spend time in just purgatory, in Ed's POV.
Mermaid Stede swims up to Ed and stops right in front of him, not touching, not pulling him to the surface. Instead he just stays there with him, smiling, and letting him know he's there. It is Ed who decides to live, and I think that's an important distinction. Stede doesn't save him, he just exists in Ed’s space, floating in the water, and ushering in light and hope.
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The last moments are Ed waking up as Stede cries, their hands gripping onto each other in a symbolic meaning of them choosing each other, Ed choosing life. The last shot is no longer the fantastical purgatory place with bright white lights and blue water that symbolize the all encompassing pressure around Ed. Now it's the real world, where Stede is wearing blue and red, his feet are in water, and his lamp shining the light onto Ed. Their hands are clasped together as Ed takes a large breath of air - coming to life. Reborn not on the seas or water, but the boat that they fell in love with each other on.
We see continued symbolism throughout this scene. The red representing their love, the lamp set next to Ed by Stede and the bright light in the ocean that mermaid Stede brings in, showing the light and hope in Ed's mind now. And the blue colors that Stede wears, and Stede stepping into the water-logged cabin, showing how he is joining Ed in his world. And when Ed chooses life, all of those things are there to greet him but not in the bright fantasy colors of his mind, but rather the muted colors of the real world.
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The cinematography of purgatory is lighter in tones. The ocean is dark until Stede brings in the white blinding light, which then surrounds them, turning the water around them to a soft blue. On the other hand, the lighting on the ship is darker. The brown wood of the cabin are just shapes in the background. The only light is from the deep orange lantern glow. The contrast in colors representing the fantasy from reality.
Every single cut in the editing has a purpose. Each action that happens in the real world is immediately reflected in the purgatory mindset. Not a single shot wasted. This scene is beautifully put together in all aspects of the filmmaking.
Hand gif credit
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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months
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hi! i saw that you were writing acotar fics inspired by taylor’s songs (which i both love so this is amazing), do you think you can write a fic based on “ivy” ? it always makes me think about the acotar world for some reason. maybe with azriel if you’re okay with that ?
Am I okay with that?? I’m more than okay with that! Perhaps even elated! Azriel is my fav and I had the pleasure of seeing Taylor and Aaron perform Ivy together at the Eras Tour. Thank you so much for the incredible ask!
Ivy (covered in you)
An ACOTAR oneshot inspired by Taylor Swift
Azriel x Reader
Update: Find the bonus chapter here: Solstice Tree Farm (Christmas Tree Farm)
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warnings: attempted SA, dub-con, suggestive, language
Warm lips pressed against my forehead as calloused fingertips deftly pushed aside the stray hairs that had slipped over my face.
We’d been wrapped up here for hours. An incandescent glow emanating from us that had nothing to do with the warm fire shrouding us in its flickering light. A plush blanket draped over our naked forms as my hands roamed freely underneath. His skin was warm, heavenly, every sacred inch of it bringing solace to my frigid heart. His own heart responsible for melting away the frost that covered it most of the time.
I leaned up to look at him, this male whom I loved with every ounce of my being. Looked into those golden-flecked hazel eyes that bore straight into my soul, seeing all of me, every cursed inch.
“You’re mine.” I whispered, pulling a large scarred hand over my breast, letting him feel the heart that beat so effortlessly in his presence. “Always mine, right in here.”
His hand lingered there, eyes filled with reverence as he absorbed each beat of my heart, every thought that filled my head, the entirety of my soul that was consumed with him - screamed that it loved him, desired him, belonged to him. Minutes passed like that. My fingers tracing soothing lines around those beautiful scars, scars derived from the ugliest of places. He was my reminder, my hope, that beauty could grow from the ugliest places. He survived the unspeakable horrors of his childhood and became this wonderful male before me. A beacon of hope rooted so deeply into my soul, filling it with rays of love that flooded out the darkness within me. The darkness that-
A hideous laugh cracked through the memory, like lightning jolting my thoughts back to this waste of a reality. My husband sharing some crass tale that he’d recycled with the audiences of various court functions over the years.
I threw back the glass of wine in my hand just in time to catch the attention of an attendant strolling by, placing the empty glass on his tray and snagging two more glasses off of it. I’d need them both to get through his pompous storytelling.
I resented the male with every fiber of my being. I wanted to hate him but told myself he wasn’t that bad. He didn’t hit or threaten violence against me. I had every physical item I could ask for. I even had blissful breaks from his presence, free to roam where I chose in his absence - so long as I didn’t leave Vallahan and maintained a modest, ladylike presence.
He didn’t have the brain to challenge any of the bigoted views instilled in him growing up: belief in the separation of “lesser-fae” and “high fae”, a wife’s place was to sit obediently by his side and look pretty, females didn’t have a place in court politics. I would have never married him, given the choice. But what is choice in a place like Vallahan? I wished Mor were here to suffer through the evening with me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
My life changed the night I met Morrigan - an emissary from Prythian. We instantly hit it off. My husband dismissing her presence as she was merely a female, waving me off to “entertain” her. I led her to my library where we spoke for hours. I could not remember the last time I laughed like I did that night, had I ever?
From the start, I informed her that spending time with me was a futile effort. I had no sway in the court or even with my husband. I once had hope that he’d come around, see me as an equal who was worthy of his consideration. But that was a long time ago and I’d since given up - biding my time with wine, books, and spending his money.
I made a difference in the ways I could without getting cut off from the liberties of leaving the estate. I spent his money in less affluent areas of our city where I knew that it would make a difference. I tipped any server well and even tipped the shopkeepers and clerks, donated gifts my husband had given me that he’d since forgotten about, “accidentally” dropped gold marks as I walked past buskers and beggars in the street. Vallahan was incredibly wealthy. There was no excuse for the poverty that its royalty allowed to befall its “lesser” denizens.
Mor had simply waived off my efforts in sending her back out to network with the nobility and spent the duration of that event with me. We swapped tales of our lands, risqué jokes, of our families. Her family had been much worse than mine but elements were quite relatable. My family saw me as nothing more than a bargaining chip, marrying me off to the highest bidder, having nothing to do with me unless they needed an invitation to an event that could advance their social standing. I couldn’t relate, however, to her chosen family. I had nobody. She smiled, mentioning of a friend in her chosen family that I would love. She claimed we both held silent, observant statures in public settings, and let our true light shine when we were alone with friends. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that this was the first time in a century I’d truly let the light break through.
We began seeking eachother out at the functions she attended as emissary. Using my silent presence, I would garner information that could aid Mor in her peace treaty efforts. She never once asked such a thing of me. It was my choice to offer the information, a chance to make a difference. My idiot husband never once considering that her and I could be talking about anything other than classic literature and the latest fashions.
It was months later that I sat in our manor’s great room, quietly reading a book whilst sipping on a blend of spiced tea Mor had gifted me from Prythian. The sun shone through the windows, keeping the room illuminated enough while leaving shadowed corners perfect for going unnoticed and unbothered in.
Hushed voices interrupted my reading as my husband and a stern looking red-headed male entered the opposite end of the room, seating themselves in front of the fireplace - their chairs facing away from me. Without noticing my presence, they began speaking of communications between his court and the mortal queens. My ears perked at the mention of Koschei and something about an alliance. The males were interrupted by a house attendant informing them that their private lunch was prepared and awaiting them in the dining room.
The next time I spoke with Mor, her brows furrowed at the mention of the conversation, asking me to describe the male as best I could. I gave her the best description I could including his red hair, cold expression and baritone voice. Her jaw slackened, mouth forming an “Oh” before she muttered, “Fucking Beron.”
My eyes widened at the name. Beron Vanserra, the High Lord of Prythian’s Autumn Court.
From there, Mor asked if I remembered the friend she’d mentioned before, the observant one with quiet wit. As I nodded, she placed a gentle hand on my leg, quietly stating, “I need your help.”
We made a plan to meet up with her friend the following week as my husband traveled to Rask for meetings. I met Mor at the quarters she stayed at while on the continent. The room smelled of her and an intoxicating aroma of chilled mist and cedar. Mor hugged me before saying, “Y/N, meet Azriel. Spymaster of the Night Court.”
Any expectations I had of the “friend” Mor mentioned flew out the window. I never thought to question whether her friend was male or female, if they were high-fae, what they looked like… maybe I should have. I had to look like a fool as I gaped at the gorgeous male stepping out of the shadows and into the room’s light. Gold-flecked hazel eyes met mine as I marveled at the towering male before me. Raven-black hair, tan skin with tattoos peaking over the top of his black tunic, and the wings, oh they were incredible. The sun highlighting the subtle hues of red undertones throughout their massive form. An Illyrian. I’d read of the Illyrian warriors of Prythian in texts but I’d never seen one in person.
His jaw dropped for a moment as he looked to my feet where shadows were swirling. He apologized profusely as they ignored his command to return to him, stating that they had never done this before. I gave him a puzzled look before he continued, telling me that he was a Shadowsinger.
A Shadowsinger. I thought they were myths but here he was. This gorgeous, living, breathing male before me. As real as the palpitations I felt in my heart under his gaze.
Quickly I regained my composure as the three of us sat to discuss the information I’d gleaned from Beron and my husband. And from there, we worked together. The more information regarding a potential alliance we had, the more efficiently plans could be made to prevent it. Both Mor and Azriel respectfully ensured that I was comfortable with an increased spy presence as I worked with them. The risks of infiltrating were numerous but the risk of a potential alliance with Koschei outweighed any risk on our ends.
Azriel would sneak into court functions with Mor as she attended her standard emissary business - his shadows shrouding him from view, and I would meet with either Azriel or Mor anytime my husband was traveling on business to discuss the latest information from around the manor.
While my husband was completely oblivious, his family was dangerous. An elite family of nobility who dealt in bloodshed and blackmail. I was truly fortunate to not have been married off to one of his brothers - my husband being the least terrible of them all.
That night as I lay in bed, I found my heart racing. Not from fear but from…. Excitement. Azriel’s presence made me feel hopeful, giddy. He continued bringing up his concern for my safety during our meeting to which I insisted that I could handle myself. His persistence enough that by the end, I allowed him to send a shadow to accompany me for the time being.
I came to find the little shadow comforting. I knew from my studies that they were to be feared, yet I couldn’t help but enjoy its company. I began talking to it when nobody was around going as far as reading to the thing. Gods, had I really become so lonely that a shadow brought me joy?
The first time I met with Azriel alone, he gave me a mischevious grin. When asked what it was for, he just shook his head with a little blush rising to his cheeks. I shared my newest information while his eyes held a playful glint the entire time he listened. I finally elbowed him and insisted he tell me what he found so amusing.
Finally he spoke, “I enjoyed the smut you read to my shadow”
“WHAT!?” I asked, embarrassment rising to my face in an unflattering shade of red.
“My shadows… they tell me everything.” He quipped.
I looked at the shadow now cowering behind my ankles, “You traitorous little shit. I thought we were friends!”
Azriel laughed as the shadow wound up my body and nuzzled my face, a plea for forgiveness. I laughed knowing I should have expected it to relay the information to him.
I smirked, “I forgive you.”
The shadow danced joyfully in response.
Azriel leaned closer, “You seem to have made quite the friend out of that one.”
I nodded in agreement. Blushing at the closeness between our faces.
He smiled. “I’d like to be your friend too.”
Before I could give it a second thought, I closed the distance between us. I had just met this male, barely knew him, but something inside me tugged. Pulled me toward him. I couldn’t hold myself back. It was instinct. My lips needed to be on his, belonged there.
For a moment, he pulled back and looked at me. His eyes searching deep within mine, second guessing, searching for any doubt, seeking permission though I was the one to initiate the kiss.
It was wrong. I knew it was so wrong. I didn’t care. I never had a choice in my marriage but this, it was something I was choosing for myself. So long as Azriel wanted it too.
“Please” I whispered.
It was all he needed to hear before his lips were crashing into mine again.
That was the night the bond snapped into place and my soul became his entirely. Every fiber of my being belonged to him regardless of wherever my physical presence may be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
As days and weeks flew by, I snuck out to him anytime I could, and when I wasn’t with him - a shadow always kept me company.
Azriel purchased a small cottage in the forest with a stone foundation, just large enough for the two of us. Ivy wound up the sides of the dated building and it’s shutters hung loosely. Most would look upon the home and turn their nose up to the state of it. But to me - to me it was everything.
We made love day and night, any time the coast was clear I sought him out. We shared our deepest secrets, held each other as we shared the heartbreaking traumas of our past. Mor met with me less and less, certainly Azriel’s own doing. Though she always sent her regards. I missed her but couldn’t resist the relief I felt at the increased opportunities to meet with Azriel.
This home felt so inviting. I never wanted to leave the cozy embrace of it, or Azriel. The places I had lived in my life were grand by any standards but they were not home, only large shells of loneliness with the sole purpose of containing bodies and furniture for those bodies.
But this, this small cottage, it was home. Azriel was home. Love and warmth encompassed me as soon as I’d walk through the doors and into his strong arms. Our scents intermingled, bodies intertwined, his love rooting itself like Ivy deeper and deeper within the cracks of my stone encompassed soul, tethering us together until I didn’t know where I ended and he began.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks turned to months and my resentment towards my husband only grew. I began sneaking off to my home even when my husband wasn’t traveling. The fact that he didn’t notice my frequent absence was both a relief and infuriating. He thought so little of me that he’d never once considered what I could be doing behind his back.
I hated the nights he sought me out. Azriel and I both knew it was inevitable and in order to prevent any suspicion I complied. The entire time I’d close my eyes and picture the corded muscles of Azriel’s arms pressing on either side of my head, warm breath heating my neck as he peppered kisses and nipped down it and across my collarbone, wings cocooning us until we were the only two people in the world.
The times my husband would reach for my hand were rare as it was and now his touch just felt invasive, wrong. I longed for the feeling of Azriel’s freezing hands holding mine as we walked in from the snowy wood, the way he’d place a hand on my cheek allowing me to rest my weary head as I cried over our circumstances. I wanted nothing more than to flee with him but if we were caught….. a gods damned blaze would ensue.
Bond or no bond, my husband’s father would never forgive such an injustice toward his son, deeming it an insult to his entire family. He had enough pull with Vallahan’s Leaders that peace treaty talks had the potential to fall apart under his guidance. I was just one female and not one that a war would be started over, however, it could be the final straw leading to an alliance between the mortal queens, Koschei, Vallahan, and Beron’s people. The alliance being what started a war.
This fire we started together, the fire he started when he came into my life, the one that I fueled with a single kiss, it could burn so much more than just us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I once again was brought from reflecting by my husband’s nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. Gods, I was tired. Tired in every sense. Azriel and I had argued the previous night. He had insisted that he would not sneak into tonight’s event, sensing an increased possibility of us being caught. I knew he was right but it was one of those nights where I selfishly wanted nothing more than to run away with him.
My husband’s family traveled to our estate for the weekend, his mother had passed long ago, so it was just his father and miserable brothers visiting. Their attendance escalating risks but also offering the potential of pertinent information being exchanged.
I longed to feel his presence but no sign of his scent filled the air, no sign of his shadows grazing the nape of my neck in greeting aside from my one constant companion. As the evening’s festivities died down I bid the remainder of the party goodnight. I joined my husband’s side to let him know that I was retiring to my chambers, pressing a hand to my forehead, citing a headache. He scoffed in return.
“You are drinking too much. It is a poor reflection on my status as head of this household if you cannot control your alcohol consumption.” I rolled my eyes, turning to retreat as he grabbed my arm firmly, yanking me back to him, “You are lucky we have an audience right now. You would be wise to show me respect.” He was always like this when his family was present. Another mark on the long list of qualities I despised about him.
I said nothing more and wound through the corridors toward my chambers when hushed tones caught my ear. The gravelly voices of my father and brothers-in-law carrying to me. I halted my steps, silently padding closer to the room they occupied.
His father spoke first, “We will approach the King when we return home, regarding the pressing nature of the alliance. Between that whore emissary nosing around and the overgrown bat, we can certainly allude to the benefits of an alliance with Koschei and the queens. Prythian nosing around in the affairs of our kingdom will only work to our advantage.”
The eldest brother chimed in, “Do you think Koschei will hold to his end of the bargain - that we will each receive a territory to overrule in Prythian once it’s been conquered?”
“Considering we have the key to freeing him from the lake he’s confined to, he’ll do anything for us, and when we capture the bat - it will only enhance the deal. Think of what could be achieved with the Shadowsinger under his control.” His father replied.
Shit
I needed to get to Azriel now. How did they even think they could capture him? The fools were so sure of themselves, fueled by pure male arrogance. Quietly I turned around taking a few silent steps away before quickening my pace. I left Azriel’s single shadow that still kept an eye on me to spy on the rest of the conversation.
Rounding a corner toward the cloakroom I crashed into a body. I looked up to find my husband staring at me. “Where are you going?” He murmured. Clearly drunk.
“I needed fresh air, my stomach is hurting.” I lied.
“That can wait. You’re coming with me.” He stated flatly. Lust clouding his eyes.
Shit!
I couldn’t turn him down without raising suspicion. Finding Azriel would have to wait until he was asleep.
I turned to stride down the hall alongside him. Silence filling the air, his scent gagging me.
We entered his chamber and he locked the door behind him before pushing me back toward the bed. Once the backs of my knees met the mattress he shoved me back onto it, not even bothering to remove my dress. He simply raised my skirts, fumbling with the laces of his own pants.
I felt sick. I hated contact with him, the resentment I felt burning like a living flame inside of me - forging itself into pure, solid hate.
“Look your husband in the eyes, wife. Is it not enough that I clothe you, feed you, give you a home only outdone by a castle?”
My brows furrowed as he continued, still fumbling with those laces.
And I was the one who couldn’t control my alcohol consumption
“You seek the company of a lesser fae? Allowing yourself be sullied by that beast?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked innocently. It was then that he backhanded me and spat “Don’t play dumb now, whore.” I cried out at the surprise of the lashing. “Since you’re going to act like a whore I’ll treat you like one.”
“It’s a shame that you couldn’t control yourself. You almost got away with it until you were spotted with that thing yesterday - spotted by my own brother.” Sneering, he continued, “Oh but they have plans for that brute and you are the key.”
With that he pulled out a knife, holding it just above my throat, his hand slightly shaking. Panic started to fill me as the realization sunk in that he was going to use me as a lure to capture Azriel. I swallowed that rising panic praying he hadn’t felt it through the bond.
I had to act now. Turning my head, nearly nicking the flesh of my neck on the blade, I gasped as if I saw something - someone - enter the room. The drunken idiot fell for the rouse. I grabbed his wrist, shoving the knife back and kneed him with all the force I could muster right in the balls.
He rolled off of me and I swiped the knife from his hand. Before he could call for help, I took the opportunity to press it to his neck. Azriel’s shadow returning to me just in time to bind his arms together.
”You thought you could assault me? You couldn’t even handle the laces of your pants, let alone a dagger.”
He looked at me, eyes wide, that lust in his eyes taken over by fear.
“I thought you to be better than your father and brothers but I see your true colors now.”
He opened his mouth to cry for help but I sliced the dagger across his neck before he could make a sound.
“Fool.” I muttered and walked away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The manor burned in flames behind me. My body clothed in spare garb kept in the staff supply room as to not attract any suspicious eyes in the streets. The staff had all returned to their own homes for the night with our essential staff returning to their on-ground quarters, separate from the manor. I stashed as many jewels and gold marks as I could into my clothing. I would find a way to distribute the wealth to displaced staff once I found a safe way to do so.
But now all I could think of was the path ahead. My husband was gone. His awful father and brothers too. Gone before they could ever share their suspicions of Az and Mor with the king. Gone before they could further influence the forming of an alliance. Their remaining ashes would be nothing but dust in the king’s ear by the time the fire burned out. Prying eyes would assume I had died in the blaze as well.
The realization hit me as I made my way through the streets: I was free. For the first time in my life, I had the choice to follow my own path and I knew exactly who that chosen path led to.
All that remained was to run away to him. I sent a gentle tug on our bond but a certain shadow had already went out ahead of me. And out of the dark cover of night, he emerged. His shadows shrouding us like the Ivy on our cottage. Home. He was my home.
~~~~~~~
EPILOGUE
The dining room filled with laughter. Mor sipped her glass of the expensive wine that she insisted she were entitled to after all of the chaos her family -our family- subjected her to. Azriel’s arm rested on the chair behind me as he sat in contented silence, those ever observant eyes taking in his family seated all together. It had been ten years today since we fled Vallahan. Nine years eleven months and thirty days since we’d accepted the bond, and the rest had been bliss. Of course there was always some challenge to arise but nothing that Azriel and I couldn’t take on as a team, as equals.
In the time that had passed, Beron’s son Eris took over his throne after the High Lord died from a mysterious illness with symptoms very similar to the effects of bloodbane.
After I left the room that fateful night in Vallahan, my favorite little shadow picked up very important information regarding the key to freeing Koschei that had been alluded to. It was now safely hidden away under extensive wards in the Night Court, far away from Koschei or the Mortal Queens.
For now, we were safe. We were free. We could conquer anything with this Court of Dreams.
“Where’d you go?” Az whispered, his beautiful voice bringing chills of the best kind to me as his lips brushed across my forehead. I gave him a smile sending waves of contentment and joy through the bond.
“Hey!” Mor said. “Where’s your wine? Az! How could you forget to pour a glass for your lady.” She threw a playful wink in my direction. “I swear, I’m going to steal her from you if you keep this up.”
I said nothing as I looked to Mor, resting a hand gently across the light swelling of my abdomen.
Azriel’s eyes sparkled and he quipped, “I’m taking a break from wine duty, Mor.”
“Chocolate duty would be great though.” I said, looking back to Az. He gave a nod and I dropped the shield that masked my scent from our family.
Cheers of happiness and laughter erupted around the room. Mor let out a high-pitched squeal like I’d never heard as she embraced me. I smiled, absorbing all of the love that filled the room.
This love. This life. It was home. Not a magnificent curse but the ivy roots of my dreamland covering me in love, in him.
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sulieykte · 11 months
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𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✧˚ · . 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊
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‣ Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (20) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (19) ‣ Warnings: Mentions of weapons, death, biting, blood and a teensy mention of vomiting. ‣ Word Count: 3.4k ‣ A/N: The wait is finally over! I want to thank everyone for being so patient, I know this took a while to write but I had to make sure I was in the right space before starting. I'm not going to pretend to understand the timeline of this movie, especially as we don't have Ronal's belly to go by at this point so let's just pretend that the timeline makes sense. This part includes some canon scenes (and another shocking attempt at writing action) with a little bit of creative liberties taken, I didn't want to go into too much detail of something we've all probably read 100 times. I know I've gotten tired of reading the same dialogue over and over again. I also wrote half of this on some strong cold medicine so as always I'll be back in the morning to do an extra proofread. Enjoy and let me know what you think besties. English is in bold italics all other dialogue is in Na'vi. ‣ Na'vi word bank: tìyawn - love, skxawng - moron, sa'nu - mum, eywa'eveng - pandora, uniltìrantokx - dreamwalker, ftang - stop, kä - go
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"What are they doing?"
You squeeze your eyes closed, pressing your face further into the surface below you as the light penetrates your eyelids, threatening to wake you from your slumber too soon. It does little to block out the high voice that rings through your tent but the warmth beneath you easily swallows your body, the soft rise and fall inviting you to slip back to sleep.
"Maybe they were fighting and knocked each other out?” The second agitating, grating voice is determined to not allow your rest. You grumble into the warmth, in hope that the owner of the voice would get the hint and leave before you had no choice to resort to violence.
”Lo'ak, don't be ridiculous." The third voice causes the warmth to unwrap itself from you, it shifts underneath you and all you can do is tighten your hold around it, keeping the heat from further escaping you.
"Oh shut up Kiri, like you can come up with a better explanation for this."
Something vibrates beneath your face, your peace finally ripped away from you and any attempt to return to your slumber thwarted once two of the intruding voices begin their squabble and the warmth groans and stretches out beneath you. Eyelashes flutter against the blue chest as you give in and blink away the sleep in your eyes.
“Lo’ak, dad said to leave them be.” Tuk calls out to her brother, solidifying her position as your favourite Sully with their father placing a close second.  
“If he wanted us to leave them alone, he shouldn’t have told us where Neteyam was.”
Whatever fatigue that lingers in your body leaves, your eyes snapping open as your reality hits you. Of where you are, of who is underneath you and how you got there. You roll off Neteyam’s chest, as if putting distance between you now would undo the damage of being caught. An explanation is at the tip of your tongue when you sit up, until your skull collides with something hard and you fall backwards, the head splitting pain stinging at the corner of your eyes.
“Shit.” A solid form catches you, a hand reaching from behind you to press at your forehead as if the firm hold had any hope of dulling the pain. Your eyes open, tears being stemmed by your rapid blinking as you find Lo’ak in a similar state of agony, clutching at his head and letting out howls that would rival a wounded Nantang.
You had never understood what Jake meant when he claimed Lo’ak had a thick skull until now.
“Lo’ak you skxawng! What were you doing standing over me?” A well-aimed kicked to the shin earns another howl from the big baby and a sharp tap to your already tender forehead alerts you to the continued presence of your least favourite Sully. His hand returning to soothe the area once he’d admonished you for your attack on his brother.
He was making it worse, so much worse. You freeze to the spot, a warm chest pressed against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist. The same arm that had spent the night holding you close. A decision made with little thought to the consequences it would have, the desire for comfort overpowering your good sense when you’d allowed him to pull you onto the sleeping mat and intertwine your bodies.
The consequences you were now facing as the three other Sully’s stared at you and their brother. Tuk with bewilderment. Kiri who was making a poor attempt at hiding her laughter behind her palm. And Lo’ak. Oh, Lo’ak who had only stopped his performance of agony to look at you and his older brother with nothing other than a look of horror on his face.
“Me?! What was I doing? I was trying to make sure you were okay. What were you doing?” He gestures frantically and the two of you, mouth opening and closing a few times before he can put together another sentence to express his confusion. “WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING HER?”
Neteyam’s hands release their hold on you, lifting in a gesture of surrender as you finally gather some sense to move your body away from him. You had found it far too easy to lean into his touch when it had become one that soothed instead of caused pain. A betrayal of your body to your mind as you felt yourself missing the feeling of his digits pressed against your skin. You were going mad, it was certain. You needed one of those mind doctors that Norm spoke of and Lo’ak’s face only confirmed that.
“Don’t make a big deal out of this baby brother.” Neteyam stands, reaching out an arm to help his brother to his feet, the gesture accepted with a narrowing of eyes. “Yesterday was tough and y/n was hurt trying to help me, I came to check on her. We just fell asleep while we were talking.”
“Oh yes, and grandmother always advises cuddling to aid the healing process.” Kiri, the only one who seems to both understand and enjoy this conversation, sits next to you in the space recently vacated by her brother.
“Not helping.” You whine, bumping your shoulder against hers.
“Not trying to.” She meets your shoulder with a nudge of her own, and you fix her with a glare that has little annoyance behind it. Kiri at least would lose interest soon enough and her teasing would cease. Lo’ak on the other hand, you could already see the questions forming in his mind, ones you would be forced to answer if you wished for him to drop it. You couldn’t blame him, not really. Not when the last true interaction between you and his brother that he had witnessed was an attempt to cause harm. An attempt that had since been achieved in other ways that you certainly didn’t want your best friend finding out about.
“Are you all better now y/n?” Tuk asks and you open your arms to accept her into your lap, her little arms finding their way around your middle as snuggled into your body. “Mom says I give the best hugs!”
You can’t help but squeeze her until she squeaks in complaint, a muffled “Too tight!” Coming from where you have her smothered in your grasp.
“I’m so much better now Tuk-Tuk, your sa’nu is right. You give the best hugs ever.” You release her from your arms, fixing her braids that you had messed up.
“So much better than Neteyam’s, right?” You ignore Kiri’s snort, looking up to find the aforementioned staring right at you. His tail flicking with amusement, he raises his brows to encourage you to answer the question. Your ears fold back and you hope your face doesn’t give away the heat that rushes to it under his gaze.  
“Yes Tuk, so much better than Neteyam’s.” It’s a blessing from Eywa herself that you manage to hold his gaze before he breaks the impromptu staring competition himself, his low chuckle echoing through the tent as he turns and rests his hand on his brother’s head.
“I better go and check in with dad. Have fun cleaning out the ikran.” He gives Lo’ak’s head a gentle push as he turns to leave, earning him a scowl as he departs your Marui.
“Well good luck with that, auntie already told him where you were!” You might have fainted if it weren’t for your body resting against Kiri’s. Your mother having seen you was a given, though you hadn’t much thought to it until now, but she’d told Jake? Tuk’s earlier statement that he had told them to leave you alone suddenly made sense. You would never be able to look him in the eye again knowing the assumptions he must have about what you were doing. Assumptions that bordered on being correct. You had no time to spiral any further when the absence of his brother to blame had Lo’ak turning on you.
“What the fuck was that?”
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“Tuk, keep up!”
“Bro, why’d you bring her anyway.”
“She’s such a crybaby! She’s all, I’m telling, you’re not supposed to go to the battlefield. I’ll tell mom if you don’t let me come.” You and Kiri come to the youngest’s defence at the same time. Kiri sticking to words but you reach forward to flick Lo’ak on the forehead, which he still claimed to be sore, earning a yelp from him and a giggle from Tuk from behind you.
As you got older, the ban on visiting the battlefield had been seen as more of a suggestion to you, Spider and Lo’ak. You were adults, one of the people in yours and Lo’ak’s case. Not that you’d ever brave sharing your adventures with Jake because while as a father he had to respect that you were grown, as your Olo’eyktan his word was still law.
Bringing Tuk was maybe a step too far, one that you might’ve argued against any other day, but you needed an escape. An escape from the confines of High Camp and any chance that Neteyam might return and attempt a further conversation. This new Neteyam that showed you smattering of the gentleness he treated his family with and served to only muddle your brain even more. You’d sooner go back to the years of snarky remarks or even the weeks in which he ignored you after taking what he wanted. That Neteyam made sense to you.
“Are there any dead bodies up there?”
Eywa’eveng had staked claim on what once invaded her land. The aircraft had now become part of the forest, the vines entwined with its metal husk and moss growing on its propellers. You follow Lo’ak’s lead in scaling the metal husk, confirming the lack of dead bodies before you allow Tuk to follow.
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You were cutting it fine to get back to High Camp before eclipse, as you always did. Kiri had wandered off leaving Spider to follow in search of her before you could return.  
“What is it?” Kiri questions as Lo’ak strays from the path, crouching to examine whatever he has noticed in the mud. Urging Tuk to stay where she is, you jump down beside him and Spider, brows furrowing when you find what he spotted. Boot prints, large boot prints. Lo’ak vocalises your realisation before you can.
“These are way too big to be human.”
“Avatars?” Spider questions, and you meet Lo’ak’s eyes. You don’t have to speak to know that he has already realised what you have. Whoever had been here, they were not yours.  
You pull your knife from its sheath, staying a few paces behind Spider and Lo’ak as they follow the tracks. You gesture for Kiri and Tuk to stay close, pressing a finger to your lips to indicate that they should be quiet. The tracks were fresh, whoever they belonged to were still close by.
You cursed yourself for declining to bring your bow as you found the source of the prints, four that you could see as they searched the old shack that you had been told under no uncertain terms you were not to visit. You held Tuk close to your side, declining to follow as Spider and Lo’ak moved to get a closer look. Risking too much movement was not a good idea, not when you had Tuk with you and only two of you held weapons that didn’t need to be used at close range. You were good with your knife, but it would be useless when faced with a gun. The boy’s return and Lo’ak makes the call to his father, dooming all of you to endless lectures and your worst punishments yet.
“Son, you listen to me very carefully. You pull back right now. Do not make a sound.” You hear Jake’s orders through Kiri’s earpiece, pressing Tuk tighter into your side. “Move, you copy?”
“Yes sir, moving out.”
“See, I told you.”
You push the siblings forward, taking the rear as you follow Jake’s orders. Your chest tightens around the fear that rampages your pounding heart, you could’ve prevented this. If you had not been so concerned with escaping the consequences of your choices you might have been able to convince Lo’ak that this was not a good idea, that you should not have brought Tuk with you. But you had been selfish, thought only of yourself and now you were all in danger. The little girl you held only hours after her birth was in danger.
“It’s almost eclipse, come on.”
The trees part and little Tuk is swept up faster than any of you can respond, Spider and Lo’ak each pointlessly nocking an arrow as more figures emerge through the trees with threats to shoot. You hiss, stance ready to pounce until you see Tuk desperately pulling at the hands that held her queue tight in her hands, crying out for Kiri.
You drop your knife, hands raised in surrender as you allow one of the uniltìrantokx to take a hold of your arms. Despite your obedience your knees are kicked from under you, and for the second time today your skull explodes in agony when the soldier wraps your queue around his hands and pulls. Your mouth fills with copper as you catch your tongue between your teeth, doing all you can not to hiss as you watch Kiri, Lo’ak and Spider be similarly manhandled.  
"What have we here?" The man has a marking of a bird on his arm, one you think you have seen before on a screen in the lab before Norm would tell you to go play outside. Bird man steps into the circle, observing you each in turn, his eyes lingering on Spider longer than the rest of you.
"Colonel, check it out. Four fingers. We got a half breed." Kiri’s hand is raised for bird man, or ‘colonel’ to see. His jaw tightens as he looks at her before he turns on Lo’ak.
"Show me your fingers." You let out a shaky breath as Lo’ak flips him off, something you’d learned as children from Spider. It was disrespectful Jake had told you when he caught you it to Neteyam. But the colonel doesn’t seem offended, doesn’t lash out. Instead he laughs. "You're his, aren't you?" Lo’ak hisses. “You’re his, alright.” He pulls Lo’ak up by his queue and tears swell at the corner of your eyes at the sound of his pained grunts as he tried to look strong, at Tuk’s cries for her brother. "Where is he?"
"Sorry, I don't speak English… to assholes."
"Where is your father?"  His Na’vi broken, but it’s clear enough who he is looking for. Lo’ak says nothing, a warrior in his own right, he would give away nothing to protect his father. None of you would, even when the colonel pulls out his knife.
"Really? You wanna play it this way?" Kiri’s cries not to hurt her brother grab his attention and Lo’ak is discarded as he rounds on the elder Sully.
"Kiri, no! Stop!" Lo’ak barely gets an inch closer to his sister before he is pulled back by his queue.
“Ftang!” You cry out, tears finally fulfilling their threat to spill as the colonel advances on your sister. The hand behind you tightens around your queue, sending white spots through your vision.
"Hey, don't touch her!" It’s Spider who stops the colonel in his tracks, as he tugs against his captor.
"What's your name kid?" The colonel asks.
"Spider… Socorro." Spider’s captor is shooed away and the colonel bends a knee in front of him, his face softens, absent of any of the vitriol in which he’d eyed any of you na’vi with.
"Miles?" You hadn’t heard anyone call Spider that in years, often you forgot that his preferred nickname wasn’t his given name. Your brows furrow, searching Spider’s face for any sign that he knew how this uniltìrantokx knew his name. You found nothing in his expression but disgust.
"Nobody calls me that."
"I'll be damned. I figured they sent you back to earth."
"You can't put babies in cryo dipshit." The colonel signals for Spider to be restrained again and presses a hand to the comm around his throat.
"Iron sky, blue on actual. We're standing by for extraction. Over. Be advised, we're bringing in high value prisoners."
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"Heads up, three minutes."
Your tail sways nervously behind you as the colonel announces the latest time frame. With each announcement, as they had the five of you lined up held securely ready for extraction, you became less sure that Jake would make it to you in time. Your wrists were tied, the soldier holding onto you had one hand on your queue, another on his gun and you knew that you had failed to protect your family. Would they take you to their city? Separate you and hide you behind their metal walls where Jake and Neytiri could not find you?
Your ears twitch. The familiar hoot echoing throughout the trees, a look shared with Tuk confirming that she had heard it too. Their mother was here. You adjust your stance, getting ready for further signal from the Tsakarem. Kiri utters a soft prayer from where she is held behind you and you hear her groan in pain before all hell breaks loose. 
“Contact rear!”
You’re yanked back by your queue as the dreamwalker holding you turns to fire his weapon, the pain splitting through your skull as you try to keep your balance without your hands to help you. The soldier that had hold of Kiri and Spider is dead on the ground at your feet, an arrow protruding from his head.
“Lo’ak!” Neytiri calls to her son from her hiding spot and you lose him and Tuk in a puff of yellow smoke. You wasted no time in ensuring your own escape by sinking your teeth into the arm that held you, releasing your hold once your mouth filled with blood and his grip went slack.
“Kä!” You cry out to Spider and Kiri as you run towards them, pushing them away from the gunfire and into the forest. Your escape is hindered when Kiri is yanked back by her braid, only for a moment before, her mother’s arrow loosing from the trees impales the demon and you move ahead again.
Adrenaline pounds through your veins and you run through the forest, the copper taste on your tongue threatening to bring your stomach contents up. But you don’t have time for that, you have to run, you have to get away to make sure you don’t leave your mother alone. To make sure that Kiri and Spider get home safely and find Tuk and Lo’ak and know that they’re okay.
The heat hits your back before you realise there’s been an explosion, the shock is enough to knock you off your feet and you don’t even realise that you were not the only one affected until you hear Kiri calling out for Spider.
Neytiri finds you, pulling a resistant Kiri away from the edge Spider had fallen from. You hear her call your name, urging you to follow as she drags her daughter away, but you don’t really hear her. Not as you scramble to the edge and see your friends weakened form being lifted from the ground by the colonel.
You’re pulled from the ground before you can even make your move to climb down, strong arms wrapping around your waist as they tug you away from the edge. You cry out, kicking and scratching, doing anything you can to release yourself from your captor until his voice rumbles in your ears.
“Stop Tìyawn!”
“Let me go!” You demand of him, he can’t do this to you. He isn’t this cruel. He can’t make you watch as they take your Spider away. “Please.” You beg as the dam breaks, your tears flowing freely, salt mixing in with copper as they reach the corners of your mouth. His hold only gets tighter, arms wrapping around your shoulder to still your movements.
“There’s nothing you can do for him, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispers in your ear and lowers you both to the ground, releasing his hold on your shoulders as he reaches for his knife and unbinds your wrists. You know he speaks the truth as you watch the aircraft ascend, taking away any hope of getting to Spider.
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evieelyzabethh · 2 months
Note
Love your work. <3 Could you write something with reader x spike where they're kinda' pining for one another, but one night he gets injured and has to stay over at her house? She patches him up and maybe offers him a bite? Doesn't have to be nsfw but +5 cool points if it is. <3
Hello, my loves, long time no see!!! I hope this is to your liking <3
Spike is so incredibly reckless. You knew this, he knew, everybody knew that Spike was a walking accident waiting to happen'. He likes to think he can handle himself. "I'm bad, baby," he'd tell you, "M' the big bad slayer killer. I can handle a few scratches." But you were never worried about what he could handle, you were worried about the fact that his blood was always staining your couch. That and the fact that his lack of self-preservation kept you up at night.
Usually, he has some decorum. He doesn't come to you with every scrape and bruise, even though you handled him with much more care than he was capable of extending to himself. It was his way of punishing himself, depriving himself of your head scratches and soft hands for bothering you too much. You scolded him for this, of course. It seems like its every other week (more like every other day) when you and he argue, most often in front of the Scoobies who waited anxiously for you take your arguments to the bedroom, about him leaving you to worry about whether or not he was ash.
"I mean, fuck Spike. Is it really that hard to just give me a call if you plan on bleeding at your place. A little 'Hi, yeah, I don't think I need my wounds treated with modern medicine, I'm gonna take my chances with old whisky and tetanus like the good ol' days'." And every time he takes his well-earned lecture with a smirk and a bowed head.
"Yes, mother, next time I'll break your door down at three in the morning for some pretty pink bandages."
"If you were so ashamed of the pretty pink bandages, maybe you should think before you run into knives!"
Spike has maybe told the truth a grand total of two times in his whole life, so his word means absolutely nothing. He continues to ignore your street like the plague unless it's an absolute emergency.
Now was an emergency.
You barely heard the faint knocks on your door from your bedroom, where you sat on your bed, music blasting from your stereo and some reality court show droning on in the background, catching your attention when someone decided to be particularly messy. You had thought it was your neighbors blind dog scratching at your door again until something large and loud hit it. Quickly arming yourself with a frying pan, you crept to your door, tearing it open for a very injured Spike to nearly fall flat on your floor before he caught himself using your doorframe.
His left hand clutched at his bleeding side and he walked with a limp over to his couch which now had a plastic cover. His dead heart was touched.
"Aw, you were waiting for me, " he croaked out. He fell on his back, one of his hands falling over the side and his eyes closing as soon as his head at the pillow. His shirt had claw marks that were lined with blood and his duster had barely escaped the carnage, a few holes separate from the preexisting moth holes sticky with some supernatural substance.
"Have to be prepared when it comes to you." You patted his cheek, thumbing over his cheekbones to try and arouse some consciousness. "Can't have you fallin' asleep on me. You might not wake up." You weren't going to leave his side until you were sure he wasn't going to die in your absence.
He babbled unintelligently, his mouth moving but having no connection to his brain to form any sort of actual thought. His eyes flit between closed and aware, his head moving to catch up with the spinning room, his mouth impossibly dry, and his head pounding. In his head, he insisted he was fine, but the words wouldn't come out right. He spat them out garbled and messy until he was too choked up to even try anymore.
He was barely conscious when he felt your wrist at his mouth. He had enough sense to shake his head and nudge away your wrist with his nose, but his lack of strength made his attempts futile. "No," he mumbled.
"You'll feel better," your voice swam around in his head until the words lost meaning and he just smiled at the sound of your voice. You swiped your thumb across one of his canines, the red contrasting with the pearly whites of his teeth swiftly wiped away by the pink of his tongue. After the taste of your blood was on his tongue, his sense was surrendered to instinct as he brought your wrist to his lips.
You didn't know what you were getting into. Vampires get their life force from blood, so it just made sense to have him feed from you to expedite the healing process. The more he drank, the louder your heartbeat grew in your ear and the closer he pulled you to him. You had only done this once before, when you were both drink and dizzy and jokes being whispered in your ear turned into tiny nips from your neck that Buffy nearly walked in on.
In complete shock of what had happened then, you never brought it up, halfway convincing yourself that it never happened in the first place. If it did happen, he had enough sense to pull away then and you hoped he had the sense the pull away now, but now was much different. Now, there was a newfound hunger. A desperation. Like he had been starving himself for years and you were the first bite of food he had eaten. Had to have been good food to, with the way he inhaled you, indulged in you like you were some ambrosia or golden mead.
"Spike," you moaned. "I'm getting a bit light-headed." Your voice was high and thin, fearful as you made attempts to pull your arm from his lips. Through his haze, his fangs contracted back, and his tongue swiped whatever lingered on your skin.
"I'm sorry." Sorry for going too far, sorry for almost turning you into an empty Capri Sun pouch, sorry for being reckless again.
" 's ok."
You wobbled a bit as you stood, fingers wrapped around your wound as you shuffled into your kitchen in pursuit of your first aid kit. "You gonna tell me what happened?" He only groaned from the couch.
"Maybe tomorrow. I'm tired." You laughed on your way over to him, wrist already covered in gauze with an all too familiar needle and thread in hand.
"You're tired?" The smell of your blood was all too pungent, still. He turned his head towards the wall, studying the numerous music posters and paintings you had hanging.
"Going out to fight evil is a very hard job." You chuckled.
"I know. That's why I stay in here to patch you up." Your fingers were like magic. They always had a way of calming him down. Especially the way you hummed to yourself while you worked. You were never content with just silence. "I expect an answer in the morning." He smiled.
"Yes, ma'am." He fell asleep before you even finished and by the time you were done, you were too tired to walk the down the hall to your bed. You laid your head down on his chest, with no heartbeat to thrum and no breath to rock you, you still fell asleep just like that. Who knew cold bodies were so comfortable.
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aloesarchives · 5 months
Text
Love and Tenacity (Tokyo Revenger One-shot)
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Warning: Blood, Spoiler Warning, Angst, Swearing, Violence, Alternative Canon Divergence, Details of injuries, Mentions of Character Deaths, Lots of crying, The author(me) being an annoying narrator, Truck-kun obliterating Kisaki, Inaccurate medical information, Plot armor, super long fic, Mentions of starting a family
Series: Tokyo Revengers
Word Count: 7.2k words
Pairing: Manjiro “Mikey” Sano x Fem!Reader(Romantic), Takamichi x Fem!Reader(Platonic/Best Friends)
Pronouns: She/Her (Mikey call reader Baby and Princess)
Summary: Instead of Emma getting hit by Kisaki, you take the fall for her.
(A/N: This fic could’ve been way shorter then it needs to be but I had to word vomit a lot. Will edit this later. I actually have been planning to write this type of fic for a year now but never started it until like a weeks ago. Sorry for the inconsistent updates!)
[Not proofread! 7:19pmCST 11/29/2023]
As always, please enjoy!
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The slight ringing in your ears had dulled out everything around you.
Your eyes were fixated on the sky, not a single cloud could be seen above. Like the gates were wide open for you to enter. No obstacles, no stairs, nothing between you and the endless cerulean sea that never failed to look beautiful every time.
The faint ringing created this humming effect, drowning out all and any noise. It was strange, it was almost comforting in a way you felt a sense of peace.
Your consciousness becomes like the ocean’s tide, rising and falling as time slows down. With your breathing becoming shallow with each passing second, you wondered if what you did would really change anything. What you did could really make a difference that changes everything forever. Takamichi is the only one that can time leap back and forth. Only he knows what you did affected the future. Yet were you able to live and see that reality yourself? Be alive and Takamichi telling you yourself?
Who knows, you wonder.
Face remained parallel with the sky and consciousness became faint, you were completely fazed out of reality. So out of it that you see two figures hovering over you. You can faintly hear bits and pieces of what they are saying, their voices muffled because your consciousness started to slide down the slope.
With blurry vision, you can make out the silhouettes of Emma and Takamichi. Emma, with big beads of tears in her eyes, has her hands covering her mouth to suppress her sobs. Her body shakes as she continues to cry, continuously shouting out your name. Takamichi isn’t any different. Panic and desperation was written all over him with his endless waterfall of tears. As he is hunched over your body, Takamichi continuously pleads for you to stay awake. 
To stay with them. 
You didn’t want to go, you wanted to stay with them. But your head throbbed and the aching feeling taking over your body, forming a response was something your body couldn’t do. Even blinking was hard because closing your eyes was tempting to enter eternal darkness forever.
As your two friends were desperate to save you and keep you leaving forever, your thoughts drift to Mikey and how he was dealing with all of this. Mikey has been through a lot. He lost so much and you have been there for him all the time.
Maybe Mikey was able to sort things out with Izana, or at least get some things across. You only hoped it wouldn’t be the start of leading him down a dark path.
[~~Flashback~~]
The cold winter air nipped at your lips as you made your way to meet Takamichi at the nearby park.
After the events of Bloody Halloween and Christmas Showdown, you wanted to know everything about Takamichi’s plan. You knew there was no way a junior high kid could have that much knowledge. 
There was something about him that made you want to know more about him. Prior to this, you have never met Hangaki Takamichi nor heard of him. You only ran into him when you accompanied Draken and Mikey when Kiyomasa was beating him up. Afterwards, Takamichi became this constant presence everywhere. He fought with the Toman gang when he wasn’t even a member, even saving them multiple times in the gang brawls.
This kid didn’t grow up with any of you guys yet he’s fighting for them like he’s known them for years. He was so persistent and had this conviction unlike any other person you have seen before in your life. You have to admit, Takamitchy wasn’t the strongest, smartest, or a good fighter for that matter. Yet he still goes in no matter what. He knows he’s going to lose but he still fights anyway.
Why?
You wanted that question answered by the boy himself so you asked him to meet up. He didn’t mind but he was concerned about what Mikey would think.
“Trust me, don’t worry about it. Mikey isn’t like that type of person. As long as I tell him the who, where, when, he won’t make a big deal out of it. Plus he’s not worried about you, Takamitchy.”
Is what you said to him on Friday before going home. It’s Saturday and Takamitchy was waiting for you on one of the swingsets. The anxiety was gnawing at him. Should he tell you why he’s really doing all of this? How would you react to it? 
Would you even believe him?
The chains from the swings clinked at his grip. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t know you had already arrived. Takamitchy jerked his head up at the sound of your footsteps. You greeted him and sat on the empty swing next to him. There was a small silence that fell upon the two of you. You couldn’t blame Takamitchy for being reluctant to talk. I mean, you literally pried at him to tell you his real intentions. And to be honest, the way you did it almost made Takamitchy piss his pants. 
It was like that for a moment before Takamitchy stops moving his swing and looks at you.
“Would you believe even if what I’m telling you is true?”
Caught off guard, you looked at Takamitchy with wide eyes before your signature smile made an appearance on your lips.
“I mean, I have to at this point. I’ve never seen anyone so devoted to fight and save even though they’re not powerful. You never purposely lied to them so you wouldn’t lie to me, right Takamitchy?”
Shaking his head, he looks at you with absolute seriousness.
“No, I don’t want to. The things I’m doing aren’t even for me really but they ended up involving everyone. I need to do this because I have to!”
“ *hums* Then tell me about it, Takamitchy.” 
With that, Takamitchy tells you everything about what he’s doing. How, in the future, the consistent deaths of Hana and his friends have haunted him relentlessly. That he has the ability to travel back in time to certain years depending on how much time has passed. The only reason why he got himself involved with Toman was because Hana’s death was linked to the gang. That there were futures where Draken was either dead or on death row, how some of the other members were dead in one. That one person was behind everything that kept creating such bleak futures: Kisaki Tetta.
As you listened and asked for clarification with what Takamitchy was saying, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, astonished, and even heartbroken. Astonished in Takamitchy doing all of this and having the willpower to keep going. But you also felt heartbroken and sympathetic because he had to witness the people his friends and the love of his life die right in front of him. You don’t blame him at all for doing what he had to do, and frankly you would do the same if it meant saving the ones you care about.
“And that’s pretty much it, (Y/N). I know it sounds crazy but it’s all true.”
“Isn’t there anyone else, Takamitchy?”
He looked at you quizzically, legitimately not understanding your lack of disbelief of what he was telling you. Instead, you were still questioning him like it was normal.
“What do you mean by that, (Y/N)?”
“As in, who else did you not see in your future timelines? You said that in other timelines, Ken-chin was dead or on death row. Other timelines, everyone else was dead. I feel like we’re missing something here. Like there has to be someone else that plays a role in the downward spiral of Mikey.”
“(Y/N), I don’t see what you’re trying to get at.”
“Takamitchy, think about it. From what you have told me, Mikey goes down this dark path because he loses the people closest in life. Shinichiro, Baji, Draken, what if there’s someone else we are not including. Like what about Emma? Do you know if she’s in the future?”
It took a few seconds to process what you just said, more so the last part. He would have retorted if it weren’t for the realization to hit him.
“(Y-Y/N), you’re not saying Emma dies, are you?”
“Takamitchy, look, I’m no detective. But think about it. If you said everyone is somewhat dead in the future, wouldn’t that include her too? Only you have been to the future, but how come you didn’t question it? You didn’t see her around when you went back to the future at all?”
“I-I…(Y/N)...”
Even though he didn’t give you an answer, his reaction and the fact his eyes are filled with slight panic gave you one. But with this revelation, it meant that Mikey was inevitably going to lose another loved one, specifically his sister. Once that fact settled in for you, your heart sank to the bottom of your soul. Heartache and agony took over your body, if Takamitchy couldn’t save Emma this time, it would guarantee that Mikey would fall into depravity. 
‘Mikey…’
You couldn’t let that happen. No, you just can’t. You loved Mikey so much that you don’t know what to do if you lost him. Just thinking about the future versions of Mikey from Takamichi’s recounts made you nauseous and break out into a cold sweat.
You know that Takamichi can’t do this all on his own. His mission will need all the help that he can get, and you were on board with it. Fuck, you do anything for Mikey and your friends.
“Then we gotta do this, Takamitchy. I may not be strong or anything but I wanna help you with this. You have my full support.”
Takamichi nods his head with his classic determined look that you’ve grown to admire. Though this meeting happened before Izana was added into the picture. Takamichi’s resolve to continue on grew more since you gave him reassurance of your help. And perhaps, this meeting only made your friendship stronger.
[~~Flashback Ends~~]
You knew you had to protect and save Emma of a fate that would lead to her premature death. You were well aware how much Emma meant to Mikey, and her dying meant Mikey losing the last family member that cared for him. 
Plus Emma didn’t deserve such a fate. She wasn’t involved in the gang at all other than being the little sister of Mikey. But even then, this wasn’t outspoken knowledge and kept hidden except for those in their close circle. To get her caught up in all of these was wrong and scumbag-level. So it was no surprise when Mikey opened up to you about Izana and their shared history together. 
But to know that Izana was trying to get Mikey to fight him by any means necessary, you expected foul play to happen. Yet, not where they were going to target someone and get them killed. It was sickening and cruel for this to happen, even in gangs filled with teenagers who were too chicken to even attempt this. But what happened to Pah’s friend and his girlfriend, it could happen.
All the more reasons to keep a close eye on Emma. But there was another reason why you couldn’t let her die. One time, Mikey took you out on his motorcycle through the city. He took you by the ocean as he zoomed and weaved through the streets of Tokyo. As he stopped and parked his bike, you and Mikey were chilling under the night sky while snacking on freshly made Taiyaki. As the two of you were talking, he mentions how he wants Emma to have a nice domestic life with Draken. You question him further and he just states:
“They care about each other. Emma loves Draken, and Draken cares deeply for Emma. It would make sense, and I would be fine with it.”
You never expected Mikey to say something like that. It’s not like he doesn’t have a way with words, it’s more of he never put much thought into it unless it was serious. So for him to say something like this really changed your perspective. Mikey does seem like a selfish and childish person, but in reality he does care for his friends and siblings. He doesn’t like being publicly vulnerable about these things. Even though Emma is his half-sister, he still loves her regardless. Since Shinichiro is gone, it’s just the two of them. So they have a very close sibling relationship.
All the more reason why Emma shouldn’t be endangered, she was a nice girl that deserves to live her life.
She was the reason why you and Mikey are together. So her dying would impossibly crush your heart and soul. You didn’t know how to live with that, more so with trying to be there for Mikey because he tends to push people away.  But you opt to sacrifice yourself in place of Emma. While not a part of the gang, you have been at their meetings and helped them with some of their brawls. So your hands are dirty compared to Emma’s.
Gosh, you’re not just doing this for a dear friend. But you’re also doing this for the boy you loved so dearly and for years. You just hoped the outcome would guarantee a better future for everyone that’s still alive.
You didn’t regret this at all because all you wished for was Mikey to be happy too.
—————————————————————————
It just happened so fast.
Takamichi, Emma, and you were exiting out of the cemetery to grab some drinks in a nearby machine. As the three of you were waiting for Mikey and Inupi to be done talking to Izana, a small humming sound could be heard in the distance. At first, you guys thought it was just the buildings and paid no attention to it. However, it suddenly got louder and the three of you turned your heads towards the street. Out of nowhere, there was a motorcycle speeding and b-lining it down the street towards you three. However, you noticed someone holding a baseball bat while riding the cycle. 
Perhaps it was pure instinct or intuition, but seeing someone holding a bat in the air while being a passenger of a vehicle isn’t a good sign. Suddenly, you shouted for Takamichi to duck while you immediately pulled Emma in front of you and used yourself as a shield. Unfortunately, your body didn’t take the hit but your head certainly did. The metallic ring of the bat and the silence followed by that was absolutely sickening. 
It was barely thirty seconds and so many things had happened. Once the motorcycle had zoomed off, Takamichi turned around and looked horrified. Though Emma was alive, she was hunched over you as she was shaking your body and calling your name. Once the brief shock wore off, Takamichi dashed over and kneeled over you as Emma stood up. She stared frightened as one of her hands had your blood on it. The comotion had caused Mikey and Inupi to come out of the cemetery to find out what was going on. As Izana left quietly, Inupi and Mikey were in a state of shock with the scene in front of them. Emma and Takamichi were crying as Takamichi kept shaking your unmoving body which laid on the asphalt.
Takamichi was trying to explain to Mikey that Kisaki did this to you but his hiccups from his sobs blocked his words. But honestly, even if Takamichi told him, he probably wouldn’t listen because all he cared about was you going to the hospital and being alive. Mikey wasted no time, he told Takamichi to place you on his back so he can run to the hospital with you. Emma wanted to go with them too but Mikey told her only he and Takamichi should go because they would be faster. Plus he told Emma that her shoes wouldn’t allow her to run and she could get hurt while running. Inupi butts in and says he’ll take care of Emma while the two of them take care of you.
The two took off as Mikey and Takamichi sprinted towards the hospital. As they take the side streets and alleyways, the rapid movement causes you to wake up for a bit. Your vision was blurry and your whole body ached, but you recognized that it was Mikey that was carrying you.
“M-Mikey… Is that you?”
Mikey doesn’t pause for a moment but he instantly softens up when he hears you speak.
“Yeah… It’s me, Baby… Don’t worry, you’re going to be okay… Takamitchy is also with us too…”
You shifted your head on Mikey’s shoulder to face Takamichi who’s running alongside him. He doesn’t smile when he sees your eyes on him but you could see the hopefulness in his. You slowly smile at Takamichi as you shift your head once more so your forehead rests on top of Mikey’s shoulder blade.
“Mikey… I don’t think my eyes are working… And my body is hurting all over that it’s hard to move around…”
“I know I know, (Y/N)-chan… Just a little longer… Please… We’re almost there… Just hang on a little more…”
Because of your injury, you couldn’t register what Mikey was saying to you but you just kept smiling. Something that made Takamichi afraid. With your forehead still pressed against him, you still try to talk the best you can.
“Mikey… Tell Emma it’s not her fault… I did this to myself… Tell Draken and the rest they have been great friends, I l-love them like brothers… And Takamichi-kun, please tell Hana that… that she’s a wonderful friend and I appreciate her a lot. Please take… good care… of her… I think you did it right t-this time… It’s up to you now…”
As you kept talking, Mikey involuntarily picked up his pace causing Takamichi to fall behind for a bit. They were so close to the hospital. If you would hold out a little longer, you would be okay.
You would be, right?
Because of the running, Takamichi wouldn’t see it but you felt it from your spaced out consciousness. Mikey was shaking, his whole body was shaking uncontrollably. It was something Mikey couldn’t admit but he was terrified. Terrified that you, the love of his love, the moon to his stars in the night sky, his best friend, would die and be lost from him forever. No, this can’t happen. You’re strong, stronger than most people. You’re one of the strongest people Mikey knows. You couldn’t go down without a fight. Though your will was strong, Mikey’s denial delusions were stronger. He keeps telling himself that you will be okay and make it out alive. That if he gets you to the hospital, it’s fine. But from what you said, the fear of your death grew stronger in him every step he took to save you. There was nothing more terrifying than for someone to see their beloved die right in front of their eyes. Takamichi knew this all too well seeing Hana die right in front of him.
For him to see Mikey go through the same thing was heartbreaking because he was supposed to prevent this from happening. Yet he indirectly caused it to happen by telling you of his time travel ability and the future timelines he witnessed. He becomes guilt-ridden as he played a role in your death, and he’ll suffer the consequences. Takamichi notices the side street that they were on and they were five minutes away from the hospital. As Takamichi caught up with Mikey, your voice became more hoarse and quiet. This wasn’t good. Mikey wished you kept quiet so you could save your strength.
“M-Mikey… You need to start to take… better care of yourself… You can’t just rely on Kenny and Em to do it…”
“(Y/N), princess, what are you talking about? What about you, you take care of me too, don’t you?”
“Yy-yeah… But I think not anymore…”
“(Y-Y/N)-chan, please… You know… I had a dream where it’s just you and me… We have our own place with our own little family… Once you put the little ones to sleep… We hangout with Ken-chin, Takamitchy-kun, Mitsuya, and everyone at our home… We get to eat and drink all the sake we want as you scold me to quiet down because I would wake up the kids… And everyone would be laughing and having a good time as you punk me around…”
You don’t respond right away, which scared Mikey for a bit, but you hummed and spoke up once more.
“That’s such… a nice dream… Mikey…”
“Yeah, baby, I think about it often. I could only imagine that life with you, I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t with you… So (Y/N), please…”
“Manjiro-kun…?”
Oh god, please don’t…
“Yes, (Y/N)...?”
“I love you…”
They were legitimately right in front of the hospital when your body goes slack against Mikey's body. They were right there, if only they were faster.
After that, everything was a blur. Inupi dropped off Emma at the hospital before driving back to Toman’s meeting spot. Not long after, Draken then Hana arrived. The doctor that had his staff take you in didn’t come back out yet. As Takamichi filled them in, the minutes felt like hours. Wondering what condition you’re in, or whether or not you’re still with them or not. Hana was trying to comfort Emma who was sobbing, clearly traumatized from what had happened. Draken stands and stares at the closed ICU doors, and Takamichi stands by the chairs waiting for your news. Meanwhile, Mikey’s seating and is just a shell of himself. His eyes were void of any light and his head hung low to hide his depressive face. He was numb, he doesn’t feel anything nor couldn’t even if he wanted to. The thought of losing you never occurred to him. He always reassured you that he was the strongest, that he could protect you from anyone and anything that dared to harm you. He found out the hard way what happens when he can’t. This is what will happen to you when he’s not careful with you. 
After a few hours, the doctor came out and everyone but Mikey stood up and went over to hear your condition. Are you okay? Are you even still alive? They needed to know.
“ The surgery was a success. Your friend is alive because you brought her in within 15 minutes of what I assume was the accident that caused it.”
The friends wanted to cheer and celebrate making it out alive. But with the weight of the doctor’s eyes, it tells a different story. So all they can do is release a sigh of relief.
“However, her injury did cause some bleeding. I don’t know what object hit her, the force of the object caused her skull to have a depression fracture. That fracture created small fragments where some stabbed her outer brain layer that caused the bleeding. Though her skull will heal naturally, the force of the blunt trauma caused her to have a severe concussion. With that, after the operation, she was placed in a medically-induced coma. We believe this is the best choice for her recovery.”
“Do you know when she will wake up?” Takamichi hesitantly asked.
“I can’t say for sure. The coma is meant to help her body recover and reset her body from what has happened. Even though we placed her under, it’s not strong and she can wake up if her brain allows her to. It could be at least 12 hours or more when she wakes up though.”
The doctor excuses himself as a nurse tells them that only two people at a time can see you. Hana and Emma were the first to go. Draken decided while the girls were seeing you, to ask Mikey to come outside to have a little talk.
But it was anything but one.
There, Draken was laying it on Mikey, whaling him in the face each time. And while Mikey was allowing the blows to come. No flinching or wincing whatsoever. It was like Mikey had shut down completely. Takemitchi was trying to hold back Draken but got shocked in the face in doing so. It was a chaotic scene in the parking lot. Draken was beating the daylights out of Mikey while Takamichi was trying to split them up and ended up bowing his head on the floor. Takamichi apologized profusely to Draken because he was technically there when you got hit so he was responsible for your condition. He hadn’t realized it but Draken was crying as he raised his fist to punch Mikey again. Yet the punch never connected. He stood there, letting his tears freely fall with his lip slightly quivering to keep his sobbing from spilling out. 
“We created Toman to protect our friends, Mikey! But Pah is in jail! Kazutora is in Jail! Baji’s now dead! And (Y/N)–! She’s… She’s in a coma! Who knows when she will wake up! Or if she will wake up… What the hell is the point of creating this gang if we can't protect our family!!!”
Draken was beyond frustrated and terrified. Frustrated as within a year their friends are getting hurt or being sent away to jail. Frustrated that he couldn’t be there to protect his friends when things like this happened. He was also terrified that he was losing them so fast. Being plucked away like they were petals on a flower. The girls were done and were going to retrieve the boys for their turn. When they didn't see them in the waiting room, however, they searched around to come out to the parking lot after hearing Draken’s yelling. They only saw the aftermath but from the bruises on Mikey’s face, Takamichi’s tears, and Draken heaving, they pieced it together. Draken made way to where you were with Takamichi hot on his tail.
It was strange to see you like this. There you laid, on the hospital bed hooked onto a heart monitor and multiple IV drips. You looked so peaceful and serene where you slept, unaware of the chaos that will ensue soon. Maybe it was a good thing that you were like this, of what is to come in the showdown between Tenjuku and Toman. But reality was always uncertain, Takamichi knew this. Things may not go his plan but he’s damn sure that he will try his best.
Draken had a blank expression but his tears kept coming. He has known you as long as he has known Mikey. You and him were practically siblings, always butting heads but backing each other when the other needed help. He always looked out for you in ways you were unaware of because you always had the tendency to care for them before yourself. And now he has seen how your kind and loving heart can be seen as a weakness, people taking advantage of it because they knew you would fight for everyone before you could save yourself.
Draken kept staring while Takamichi knew he had to do it. It was up to him now to lead Toman against Tenjuku as both their commander and vice-commander are currently out of commission. Takamichi had talked with Hana and Emma before leaving. He now had a new motive to keep fight on as this battle wasn’t just for Toman:
This fight is for you too.
—————————————————————————
After rallying any of the remaining Toman members, Takamichi faces off against Tenjuku that night. 
Fuck, it was hard.
Not only being outnumbered by many, but they were down their strongest members. With Mitsuya and Smiley injured and Mikey and Draken not showing up, it seemed like the fight was already decided. But with Takamichi leading, Toman still kept on fighting, being powered by his dauntless spirit. Angry unlocked his sleeping blue orge powers and knocked down three of Tenjuku’s executives with two of them being the Hataini Brothers. Yet they still had one challenge to face.
Izana Kurokawa, the leader of Tenjuku himself.
Like any last boss fight, he was strong. He knocked down all of Toman’s best members, and he seemed unstoppable. Takamichi was getting absolutely rocked by Kakucho. Blood sept out of his mouth and nose, he was hurting all over and knew he had some broken bones, but he didn’t care. Chifuyuu tried to convince him that Toman would never win this fight, they are outnumbered and too injured to carry on. But Takamichi didn’t care about that. His conviction shone brighter than ever that night. His determination, his tenacity, was unwavering when Kisaki aimed his gun point blank at Takamichi’s face. He knew if Toman loses tonight, Tenjuku and Kisaki would win. He would never give it to them no matter what because he was so close to fixing the timeline, he would be able to save everyone. He is not letting that chance slip through, not when he can do it right now.
In the face of Kisaki aiming straight at his forehead, Takamichi wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid of him, nor of Tenjuku, nor of anyone. He wasn’t afraid of you dying anymore because you wouldn’t die on him, die on your friends when they needed you.
That you wouldn’t die on Mikey because you knew he would be lost and devastated without you.
You may not be a leader or one of their strongest, but you were still a part of Toman for a reason. You were a fighter. Fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves, fighting to protect and save your friends, to keep on fighting with such conviction for your family, the Toman gang. Takamichi fully understands why you did what you did and it helped him be fearless against Tenjuku. Provoking and taunting Kisaki in every way he can, even with the gunshot wound to his foot. Takamichi smirked at Kisaki seeing him lose his composure and stood toe to toe with him. In that moment, Toman was fueled by his determination and ignited the spirit of Toman once more. Kisaki trying to save his pride looked down upon Toman for their stupid antics, thinking he’s still on top as the kingpin of everything. That only for Takamichi to give him a well-deserved punch right across his face.
Then Takamichi suddenly stood proudly with his fist up in the air, claiming that he would never give up. Everyone was confused until they followed Takamichi’s line of sight and saw Mikey. Not only that, Draken arrived too with Hina and Emma right behind him. Everyone was beyond shock, Toman for seeing their leaders and Tenjuku seeing Emma alive. They thought Kisaki killed Emma but they guessed wrong since she was standing with them alive and well. It was only then Kisaki realized his mistake, he got you instead of her. Now he knows why Toman is a pain in his side and won’t stay down.
Hina explained to Takamichi that she had to tell them about his time-leaping ability. His mission for a future where all of them lived. How she will die in twelve years time and Takamichi is doing everything he can to save her and everyone else. What she was saying sounded straight out of a movie but it was all true when his desperation and determination was right in front of them. That it was your choice to save Emma from an early death because you knew how much she meant to Draken and Mikey. You wanted to help Takamichi achieve a future where everyone is alive and okay because you loved them so much. 
After Hina told them, Mikey snapped out of his hollow state and walked to where your room was. As the nurse was checking your vitals, she saw him walking towards your window and called him over. Since your condition stabilized, one guest is allowed to see you in your room. As the nurse opened the door for him, Mikey quietly strides to your bedside and stares at you. It may not be an appropriate time but Mikey always thought you looked so beautiful and enthralling no matter what was going on. He just stares a bit more before bending over and placing a small kiss on your forehead.
‘(Y/N), I have to go help Takamichi out. Please wait for me until I help them win. Hold on just a little longer for me.’
He squeezes your hand gently but reassuringly. It was mostly for him to know that you would make it out and wake up for them. As he leaves your room and goes back to Draken, he didn’t see the slight twitch your hand gave when he let go.
Now here he is, with Draken and Toman to aid them in their fight against Tenjuku. Mikey shouldn’t be here but he knew that you would have wanted him here to help Toman then staying with you. As Izana and Mikey battle it out, Takamichi could only watch as they were evenly matched. But as the fight kept going on, Izana started to falter and grew weaker. Mikey was beating him and Izana was slowly losing his mind because of it. In a moment of desperation, Izana snatched Kisaki’s gun and pointed it straight at him. Just like Takamichi, Mikey provoked Izana to shoot him only for Kakucho to smack the gun out of his hand. They argued until a shot was fired and Izana’s face splattered with a bit of blood.
Kisaki had shot Kakucho.
Kisaki was getting annoyed that his master plan was crumbling apart like a sand castle. If he couldn’t use Mikey then he would use Izana. In a fit of rage, Kakucho charges right at Kisaki. Kisaki shot again, this time hitting Izana. But when he tried pulling the trigger again, the gun was jammed and couldn’t fire another shot. Since the gun was useless, Kisaki fell to the ground from the adrenaline rush. The chaos continued to thrive as Tenjuku’s king and his servant laid on the ground, bleeding out. Mucho shouted for an ambulance as everyone remained stunned at what had happened. As the cops and ambulance were coming, everyone was pulling out except for Tenjuku’s executives. As Mikey stares deadly at Kisaki, he looks down at him with such disappointment and disgust for causing all of this… for putting in the hospital.
Before he and Takamichi could approach the bastard, Hanma grabbed Kisaki on his motorcycle and sped off. Takamichi hitches a ride with Draken while Mikey stays with the girls. After crashing, Kisaki was being chased by a determined Takamichi. After duking it out, Kisaki points his gun again at Takamichi. The manipulator was starting to cry out of frustration as Takamichi hit him on the money for why he kept killing Hina in the future. But as always, Takamichi had the upper hand and was able to get Kisaki’s gun and point right back at him. He was so tempted to shoot if it weren’t for Mikey and Hina.
Kisaki used this little distraction to get away but Takamichi was hot on his tail.
“My plan would have been perfect if it wasn't (Y/N) and her virtue signaling! She had what was coming to her instead of letting Emma take the hit! I could have had it all!”
He continues to spout nonsense until he stops in the middle of the crosswalk. He turned back at Takamichi and told him that he was leading him on this whole time; he wasn’t a time leaper.
As Takamichi revels in this new found information, Kisaki gives his shit-eating grin to him before getting slammed by a delivery truck. In a blink of an eye, Kisaki was fatally mangled as he was trying to get back up but his legs were twisted backwards and kneecaps out of place. 
In a flash, Kisaki was dead and that was the end of the battle with Tenjuku. There was only one casualty and that was Kisaki Tetta.
—————————————————————————
It had been two days since you were placed into a coma. Takamichi and everyone came to visit you to see how you were doing. Though you weren’t in any danger, you had not shown any progress of consciousness. While it worried the others, Takamichi and Mikey never lost hope that they would wake up again and come back.
And they were right.
On the third day, Hina and Emma were going to visit you when they were told you were placed in a different room outside of the ICU. Quickly, they made their way to your new room where they found you wide awake. Sipping a capri-sun as you sat up on the bed, turning your head to smile at the teary eyed girls. Emma ran over to you and hugged you tightly, still trying to be careful of your injuries, while Hina grabbed her phone to tell Takamichi the news. Their tears were soon joyed by everyone else as they made their way to the hospital. As Mikey, Takamichi, and Draken practically spirited to your room. As they slid the door open, they were greeted by a crying Emma that was being comforted by you as Hina stands on the other side of your bed talking to you. You didn’t notice them until Mikey whispered out your name, turning your head to smile at them while still holding Emma.
Draken and Takamichi had tears in their eyes. For Draken, you survived and are up back again. For Takamichi, it means that he didn’t fuck it this time. That he was able to save you, Emma, Draken, and Izana from a bleak future. That he finally accomplished what he sought out to do in the very beginning. The closest timeline for Takamichi to give everyone a happy ending. 
He finally did it.
As Hina ushered Emma, Draken, and Takamichi out of the room, it was now just you and Mikey. You can tell he was tired, probably losing sleep on wondering if your condition would get better. As you held out your arms to him, he made haste and hugged you tightly. It was Mikey’s turn to cry as he held you for the first time in three days. His face was buried in your head as his hand held it close to him while his other arm held your upper back. You were rubbing his back and hair softly so he could bask in the reality that you were okay. 
“I was… so scared that I was going to lose you, (Y/N)... That you were going to end up like Shin-ni and Baji…”
“Oh Mikey…”
“ *holds you tighter* I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you… I was supposed to be there with you… I just… Couldn’t imagine my life if you were gone…”
You soften at how vulnerable Mikey was becoming. But you didn’t know the depth of seriousness he had for you until now.
“Well, I’m alive and awake, Mikey. I’m here with you, I’m going anywhere without.”
Mikey sighs, kissing your forehead before placing his on yours with his eyes closed.
“I’m serious about you, princess. I want to be with you forever, I want to have a future with you. A future for us… I need you, (Y/N)... I love you…”
“Oh, I love you too, Majiro-kun… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
With that, you two sealed the promise with a gentle but loving kiss. You love Mikey and he loves you as well. As you pull away, you hug him again before asking him to let Takamichi talk to you. He goes to get him, not before placing a kiss on your cheek. Takamichi enters the room and you grin ear to ear seeing him as he is happy to see you awake.
“Come on, Takamitchy. You can relax for a bit! You saved everyone!”
“Yeah, but you gave me a heart attack, (Y/N)!! I get why you did what you did but it still doesn’t help that I was constantly thinking about how you were doing!”
“Oh, Takamitchy. I thought I told you to have faith in me! I’m not going down so easily like that! Trust!”
“(Y/N)...”
You drop the peppy and light act and shift towards a solemn one.
“So I heard Kisaki is dead…”
Takamichi nods to confirm your question.
“How did he die? Did you kill him, Takamitchy?”
“I… I actually didn’t…”
You straightened up your posture and stared at him in surprise.
“You didn’t?! Then how—”
“He was struck by a truck at a crosswalk. He died not too long after…”
“Hmmm, I see. At least you didn’t have to get your hands dirty, Takamitchy. I couldn’t imagine you going to jail for his death. I guess even God wanted him dead too so he decided to add some divine intervention into our mix and give us a boost.” You chuckled at the last part. It was a little humorous that Kisaki didn’t die at the hands of either Takamichi or Mikey.  But rather, he died due to being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe God was tired of Kisaki’s shit and decided to help Takamichi out. Who knows? 
But what matters is you’re alive, Takamichi is alive, everyone is alive. You were able to help him save everyone and now everyone can have a future to look forward to.
“I guess your work is done here then. So are you going back to the future after this visit?”
“Most likely…”
“I understand… Thank you for all your hard work, Takamichi… I appreciate all you have done and look forward to this new future that you have set…”
“Yeah… We’ll see (Y/N)...”
As you and Takamichi hug it out and high five each other, you tell him to bring the rest inside to join you two. Draken was salty that he didn’t get a personal moment like the rest did but you told him it will happen soon enough. After visiting you, Takamichi went back to the future that night. As he shook Naoto’s hand one last time, he firmly believed that he created a better future and timeline this time. 
And he was more than correct.
In this timeline, he is getting married to Hina. Draken and Emma are married and already have a baby. You and Mikey already had your wedding and were planning your next decisions for your two’s future. As Takamichi saw how happy and bright Mikey was towards you, he knew he finally stopped the cycle. With everyone alive, he could be happy and rest with the fact that he achieved the future he wanted. Hina is alive, Draken is alive, Emma is alive, and you and Mikey are alive too. Though he wished he could save Baji and Shinichiro, this still was a good outcome from what happened.
Against all odds, Takamichi was able to accomplish his goal in saving Hina and his friends. Though it may not be perfect, it was enough that his sacrifices weren’t in vain as everyone was alive and happy. All thanks to your help and his efforts. 
Now he can fully rest and live in this future as everything is going to be okay from now on.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(A/N: I probably edit this later this week because I still don't know how to make good endings for my fics, lol. Sorry again if this was too long to read!)
Thank you for reading!
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astralnymphh · 7 months
Text
god knows she tried.
ellie williams⊱.
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“the monster inside her was baying for blood, it had to come out some day.”
⤹𓍢ִ໋listening to; lacrimosa and sour
𖤐.an; I present to you, my proudest piece. wowowoww I really enjoyed writing an emotional piece like this. I hope it suffices and gets enough recognition cause this surely won't be my last angst piece!! inspired by lacy, oh lacy by @coeurify
𓍢ִ໋-cw; ellie pov focus leaning, large analysis of ellie throughout tlou2, loser-esque jackson ellie, angst, heavy feelings, depictions of death + wanting death + blood + guts + sharp objects + nausea/vomit + self hatred + jealousy + starvation, mild glimpses of happiness, reader replaces dina, reader isn't pregnant, poetic writing
⋆.ೃ;wc; 5k+
masterlist ୨୧
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the sun was shrouded in gloom. the water did not glisten, but her tears did. droplets of gray guilt pour in slow motion down her bloodied cheeks. tears glistening with hurt.
washed up like a sea carcass, phantom fingers pounding in pain. made into a husk by her own self-corrosion. her mind would have been bare, except, you're there. a figment of time, standing there, suffocating in your blank stare. why are you staring like that? it's not even you. ellie can't grasp that truth. it's only her subconscious. projecting an apparition of your mortal flesh and briny blood. salty like the sea she's sitting in.
would you echo that figment in real time?
the past figments she saw had character. one shaking their head, one like a beacon of comfort caressing her shoulder, and never dead. you're not dead, why is she crying?
she cries for everything.
her limbs calcified of stone. nothings' moving. lungs that felt dried up from all the tears leaving her eyes. a throat that strains and tugs with each dense swallow, reminding her of the atmosphere that appeared so devoid of air, thinking, how could she breathe right now? the insoluble pain of self-destruction. the hunger for revenge, snuffed like a breeze to flames. it was all in her head. the choking. her lungs begged for air, and she could not breathe it.
ellie cusps the hand that gushes with beady red blood that drips into the dark murky water, pressurizing the exposed throbbing knuckle. it hurt like hell, an unlivable hell. yet, not a wail is heard by the ocean. only the whimpers and sniffles graze the ears of her highness, the sea, the only one physically there to listen.
behind her, feet are hung at head-level. wooden pillars that scarcely mimicked crucifixion. this place was dark, in all dimensions.
just minutes ago, her skin was forming bruises and jaw nearly caved in from the force of abby's struggled hits. knuckles praying to live. not even the mass of a gun tucked in her jeans had her awareness. no, she didn't use it. she wanted to feel abby fucking dying in her hands. her hands that have siphoned the lives of many before. but, when she realized someone was actually dying in her hands, when she could feel that through her skin, it was over. the flashes of joel in her head beckoned her to stop, without uttering any words. the same mental imagery that motioned her to break skin in the first place.
joel was always there.
soaping up the harshly served reality that projected on the foggy thalassic horizon and toxified the surrounding waters, her mind sails to different times. supposed simplistic times that, by fate, turned rotten.
the day you two met. a mere four years ago. the town was a busy winterscape. you both were the golden age of sixteen, well, not that golden admist the post-apocalypse. steady clanking hoofsteps that striked the concrete track streaming into jackson, mounted on your midnight coat steed that trailed behind tommy's. heads turned at the sounds of large rusty hinges twisting, including hers, watching from beyond the stable's fencing.
goddess above and below, you're were so stunning.
she remembers she was gearing up for group patrol that day when you arrived, the saddles' horn nearly slipping from her bay leather grasp. thoughts of interest and curiosity had slowly piled up from that point. her pupils picking up on each hoofprint left as you pass the open paddock and stroll into the connecting stable. her browlines furrowed, wondering if you we're some backpacker hauled over for a spell, or a new resident.
she's lucky it would be the latter.
the veil of frigid air that seeped her skin and snapped her focus out of a daydream by the echo of dina's voice, calling her,
"earth to ellie?"
and it tethers her back on earth, turning her face to dina. she thought back to how her gloved fingers snapped in her face, asking for her focus, there and then.
"sor- um, what were you saying?" her speech was floaty, stacking on each other as she stuttered.
why was her focus glued to you at that moment? you had literally just entered. fucking hell, must have been something intruding the air. it's unlike herself to be so.. enraptured.
and later that evening, after a session of controlled gunshots mowing down the rigid fungoid heads that dared to disrupt their supply run, she was tired. plain tired.
as it turns out, a sturdy bench baring wooden boards as seats was enough comfort after all that shit. legs beat down to drooping over the woods edge, feeling like jelly. her hair bathed in the dining hall's incandescent lights, rendering a mellow orange halo. lips in pure quietude, she sat as a stranger to the conversation had between joel, jesse and dina.
ellie pondered the expedition for guitar strings that happened weeks ago, still processing what joel had told her. 'there was, no cure.' was it fabrication? what really took place in her state of unconsciousness? this was the beginning of a lurk. an unabating, rough gloom that presides under and through the chamber of her stomach, telling her something wasn't right. a thing she can't exactly point a finger to. a gut hunch that anchors her heart tightly. all is not true. she must seek.
blanked inside the home of her mind, only to be yanked by the wisping holler that ran over her head.
"hey! over here!" it was dina, ushering you over with the jerks of her wrist.
you passioned your way through the meal lines, appearing before her. she recalls how you looked, you were perfect. you wore the same ebony winter jacket that gathered dust on the wall-mounted rack of your farmhouse bedroom. it had its wears and tears and excerpts of journies to tell, but it was perfect on you. it's just a plain jacket. but for her, it was the jacket.
"the house up to yer' standards?" joel asked you, the usual mug of piping hot joe whaffed a steam around the aged and cracked skin of his face. tender in the light.
your voice rang through, "yeah, nothing I could ever bargain." and it cleared a trench between her temples. that rough gloom took a rain check instantly.
a fuzzy feeling that fords neither love or hate embraced the nape of her back. she didn't realize it just then, but, between the vault of aching uncertainty in her gut and the day to day neutrality she feels, a blossoming delight would come from your arrival at jackson, should she consume its goodness.
she didn't remember much of that conversation until the spotlight beamed towards her.
"this is ellie, she jus' came back from patrol. she'll show ya how we handle things 'round here." joel had gestured your sights over to her, to consume her first impression, with a smile that would become signature.
her ears tuned to you.
"hi!" you greeted with the softest wisping of your lips. oh, it made her evening that much more animated.
from that day onward, it was like a sweet lullaby of love. waving from across the horizon for weeks, your hand splayed out flat in the air, and hers curled up a bit. another week passes, and she's inviting you to the tipsy bison on her own accord. months pass, and she's constantly slumbering on your sofa over long nights, preferring it over being alone in her garage home. at this position in your shared timeline, ellie has grown distant from joel. you swore she forgot that old mans' bowed and bearded face sometimes.
it stung to relive the memory of pushing joel away. outside that damned hospital. saint marys' piece of shit. yelling, "don't you fucking, touch me!"
the tears were scorching. they were brought up to be. and they burned. the inside of her throat felt sliced up, chewed up, and ran through with barbed wire. swallowing was too much to bear, just how it is now, sitting on that dark beach.
that same day, she returned to find you waiting at her doorstep, box in hand. worry-struck. ellie took off out of the void, it made sense you were distraught. she felt mutually the same, her wrenching heart suffering the aftermath. the dawn of day she assumed would be spent alone, was sat atop her bed. losing herself in the video game you brought in that box, laying on you while she flicks the joysticks and taps the bumpers. it was a sunny yellow haven. a light she found in the darkness, that was you.
a tightly braided friendship.
and her mind lingers on something you once uttered at the crux of night during a sleepover, entailing the words;
"i like moths now, because of you."
that made her flustered across the span of a whole week, even joel questioned why she was blanking out during patrol training.
she was your moon. someone to subdue the spines that pricked your skin every day. sharp edges that tell you, happiness wasn't meant to stay. battle it all you wanted. moons eventually dim and embellish darkness.
two years pass, and she's being led to the center of an ornamental string-lit dance floor during another peak of winter, by none other than dina.
not you. if only it had been you. or else she wouldn't have felt that specter of gloom wrench her gut in disgusting ways later at dusk.
at least her gut didn't feel as it does now. torn open for this sorrowful sea to behold, exposed to a retch colored with regret. ill aversion.
her hands guided to the small of dina's back, draping like a silk curtain. missing a flinch when her arms huddled ellie's shoulders. not a flinch. ellie didn't love dina, but they were close. pinkies-tied close. it's just dina being dina, right?
"every guy in this room is staring at you right now.." her voice croaked in a demure whisper. the blood cells in her being were fluttering, the weight of her position then and there, made her feel lit up inside a dark room. backed into a corner. she was the spotlight once more.
"maybe they're staring at you.."
they would soon.
you never resented ellie for that night. you liked her, yeah, but it wasn't her fault. it only felt like you'd gulped a clump of metal bolts, weighing like a sick burden inside you. cold and rustic. your will of steel didn't let that shatter you completely, though. bottled it up and bluffed your feelings. it was never her fault. sucked down that bitter shot and let it ferment in your sickly gut packed with a stir. a stir of pungent nausea jabbing thorns in your esophagus. it delivers a nasty taste. but you swore, you wouldn't resent ellie.
ellie was unaware of your shared adoration. what seemed like a one-sided crush, was not. nights left off with a friendly hug could have been so much more divinely satiating. she wishes her body wasn't bound to the now, wishing she could back to then. the past, and express her affection. tell you everything.
a wish brewn too late. a drunken kiss to her buds out of wills' reach binds a woolly, empty headed fizzing to her ears. tossed into a stupor. all she could do was stand still like a willow tree in the windless plains. lips unable to jerk away. then it sunk hard. you're there. you're watching. people are peering. you saw.
"fuck." was emphasized in her toneless breath, narrowly letting loose another swear in the flavor of a loud scream.
in that gloomy darkness, she saw you. illuminated like a beacon too. your face plasters an unbothered exterior, but the eyes, the eyes are a glass screen. you can understand the essence fueling a person's emotion with one meager glimpse. a new gag clots her gullet. she can't show it, but she for heaven above and hell below, could fucking feel it.
you virtually felt a crack in your heart. cracks in a porcelain antique. you're sure the two looked similar.
strung between multiple conclusions, you pondered. if ellie liked dina, you'd have to woefully accept it. and if she didn't, then she didn't. what more could you have proposed at that time. life is life.
your feet carried you with a saunter, skirting the doors brinking you from the ghostly streets of a slumbering town of jackson. a jarring contrast from the lively party howling behind you. even for someone who's experiencing confusion, you walked with a gentle gait.
pausing under the descending pearls of frozen water, casting your eyes heavenward into the starry globe above you. the stars twinkled so perfectly on such a gut-wrenching night as this one. it dawns on you. how the celestial bodies of space feel no pain, no heartbreak. how their life is lived without the mortal trials you face. it must be so easy up there, suspended in space, feeling nothing.
as the snow nestled in the beds of your hair, melting on your blue hot face, you claimed a sense of emptiness in your head amidst the vomit begging to unfurl from your throttle. please, let it be a dream.
piercing isolation.
ended suddenly.
the swinging of a door wooshes through your ears, and capers your sights to its source. and there she was. joining you in the twilight snow-shower. ellie.
she trotted up to you, lone in the wintry streets, and harvested the same pellets of opalite snow that decorated the strands of your hair like constellations hovering above. her head, too, snowflakes cling to her russet bang and lashes, framing her eyes so damn right.
oh, snowy fern eyes. the most serenic evergreen rings encapsulated behind gloss. dewey eyes sitting atop red sweltered cheeks. her lids fluttered back the tears, the tears that might wither the snow, and surely wither her soundness of mind. a quiver of the lip, bent over her teeth. frozen fucking wind that chars the lining of her lungs with ice. every single thing fucking wounded her.
you gazed into one another, emotions roaring loud. she could peer right through you. through the glass windows of your eyes. things were felt and not shown, it was evident in your expression. no words were uttered in those seconds before. before the infamous words you spoke. words that forced everything to the shore.
"do you love dina?"
fucking gag. another smother of disgust gurgling in her gut. the sheer assumption that you believed her heart to be penchant for dina, and not you, drowned her guts. a quick spurt of unease penetrates her whole esse.
here went nothing.
"I love you."
whorled away from your envy like whiplash. it added up by that point. she appeared like a puppet to that kiss on the dance floor. you recalled it then. ellie's teeth were never bared in a smile, more so, it was the true one-sided love. now, she is standing in front of you. physical, mortal, and all. retching out that confession like it was stifled beneath a tombstone.
to ellie, that tombstone represented everything she expected to fail. to be dead. a wish foreseen as ash, fled to the gales of something more worthy.
that wish sailed the breeze, and landed at your feet.
you reached that shore too.
"I love you too, ellie."
her name levitating off your tongue with a tone so soothing felt affirming. grounding. this is not a dream.
her eyes transmutated, eclipsed by a sun. what was once dewey, red and puffy, then softened to a set of almonds brazed in sweet syrup. calmer tears that were golden. joyous. lids relax and anchor her brows, straightening out like rows of a poem. after straying so long beneath the falling snow, her nose suffused a red-orangey tint, nostrils even redder.
love passioned its way through the gelid space, accompanied by the humid huffs of your breath. but nothing was as warm, not even a star, as what brought your bodies a few measly steps closer.
a kiss.
huddled in the somber streets was an effigy of igniting amour. two souls stuck together. her arms wrapped around your back like you were the only life she could clutch. reddened knuckles crumpling up the same ebony jacket you attired in the winter, holding you dear. your arms found a natural embrace, cusping her shoulders and marrying fingertips into her coppery mane that tied into her bun.
nothing beats the way you two rolled lips, tasting the skin and smacking slowly. her peachy buds that fit the open groove of your mouth so easily. her lips were formed for you. cells that build her body, are building for you. she existed solely for you. graciously drinking up the kiss like a fucking sweet milkshake.
a taste so addictive, you could die on it.
shit, she's smirking into your lips. ellie, you blasted dork. even the dimples denting her cheeks could poke you back. that's how wide her smile travels from ear to ear, even her cheeks fattened up, creasing those beautiful crinkles at the edges of her eyelines. a true smile.
and once that kiss severed, you saw those bloated, ruddy cheeks plucking the corners of her lips. too fucking adorable.
"well, there's that smile. lost her a while ago, els?" the teaser you were, and the loser she was.
her lips refine into the same toothy, adorable beam. she nearly cringed at your observation. the way you kept notation of how often her midface perks up, it was cute. her flesh bites the bitter cold, and blood that heaped her cheeks burnt so vibrant for you.
she couldn't believe you were true.
"i think you're the only person that makes me smile," she recalled this vividly, trying her darndest to uplift every waking thought about you through a cold shell she fabricated, "fuck, i'm so bad at this.." laugh it off past ellie, laugh it off.
if she pinpoints it correctly, you had said the words "i like bad." jokingly. fashioning the most proud smirk ever. pfft, she giggles every time her brain resurfaces that memory of your snowy brimmed confessions.
"tsskk- u're weird."
"you're a big dork."
"shut up.." her ardent palms pancaked against both of your cheeks, passionately pulling you in for another tangerine sweet kiss.
the ivory supermoon set on a blissful night, luckily enough. ellie ended up fleeing that street, hand in hand mingled with you, towards her home. fuck that dance. fuck those feelings flush of guilt that died right there on that street. being tangled in the sheets with you snuggled in her arms was enough. enough to submerge what galloped through her head.
"i don't need your fucking help joel."
shit.
gods above and below.
what did daylight bring?
bloodshed. blood stains her eyes to this day. she was there. she saw. the blood spilt and it splashed towards her. if joel couldn't reach his torn, bashed and narrowly mutilated hand out to her, his lifeline would. the plasma pumping his heart to sustain life, hurling out like a ribbon of crimson. a downright disrespectful invitation of rememberance abby had chucked to her fucking face.
this memory. this disease, an immoral plague. who the fuck up there in the pristine realms of divinity decides a mortal punishment like this?
that memory, lives on. it weakens the marrow in her bones. turns the tides in her head. she wanted to rip her skin off. her skin that gets to survive. disgust. again. the muscles attached to bone, felt like they didn't belong.
she stopped genuinely breathing after that day.
you saw the will to breathe drain from her eyes. etching into that lodges' oak floors. the first grave she ever dug.
"i'm so sorry, ellie."
was the first swan song she ever heard.
now that rough gloom, plummeted and shapeshifted into a dark cavern of misery. starless, desolate gloom. her room turnt cavernous too. blocking all rays of bright luminosity from injecting a disturbance in her seclusion. era of mental death.
you had been visiting her daily in her time of barren sensitivity, at the least, visiting her door. you uneasily sat on the exterior end of her door. poised aside and smushing your ear into it's solid strength. praying that you might hear any peep of life on the other side, you wait. you miss her bloodcurtiling sobs reserved for nighttime, sowing the conclusion that she, inside, was empty. a husk.
if death is so morbid, why did graves look so peaceful? so prettied up. why are the baby blue hydrangeas sitting atop his freshly cold grave, soft in their glory, delivering such a potent posion. they plant their own seed. clotting ellie's throat with a nest of hydrangeas she'll carry with her forever. roots latched to a deep spring in her spirit that navigates every little emotion. the flowers bulge from her esophagus and cough up in petals of regret, forgiveness, and rejection.
she can't accept that.
she didn't.
she heard the rainy forest calling for her.
seattle is here. seattle is waiting. the old flame lights the new wick, and so it ignites, her immortal foe. revenge.
and she brought you along.
ellie respires every soul set free from mangled bodies she creates. her hands a syphon, the weapon her postman. delivering screaming letters of justice with every pull of her finger on the trigger.
a once starless gloom was snapped in half by her own drive with spheres of guttural fire baying for blood. she wakes up a blood-gutter every sunrise. her face just might fossilize and cherish this total takeover. she was someone new. angled fuming brows, irritable red nostrils flared more than ever, and an awful intensity in her eyes. it made them scintillating, more so, grossly gleaming. irises fern green to hazardous toxin in just a few months.
enemies could read ellie's aura nimbly, if their visions should even grasp it faster than their machetes and hammers meeting a clenched palm. she wasn't just a girl. she was a threat.
miles of blood patterned in her path, splotching the diamond modeled bottoms of her converse like abstract art. she was lost in her own world. driven straight to the goal.
you promised you'd be there every damn sliced throat of the way, no matter what. but this scares you. slowly, the fire burning in her eyes had charred her up till she could barely give anything more.
the fire had only engulfed her when she appeared at the theater's lobby doors, banging the margin of her balled fist on the wood. the fist gloved in crescent scars, peeled cuticles, and raised callouses. when the doors waved open to you, gliding up to her and weaving yourself with her body in a relieved hug, she couldn't do it. it was too much. the torture lingering in her muscle memory stung, frozen hands jittering above the small of your back momentarily.
ellie was enervated.
it took her a second to even hug you back. that was, too kind of you. to embrace her body slathered in the lifeline of someone else. why would you even do that, she thought.
her mind looped on a cycle, processing that damned notion as you pleat the soiled shirt off her back. she couldn't even feel the salient tear in her back, the brutally severed dermis throbbing red, not a whimper soars her gullet when you tend to it. numbness riddled her. stitch her up, and she won't flinch.
then ellie croaked,
"i made her talk."
she was revolted. how could she touch you so tenderly after whacking a metal rod into a beating body 'till they coughed up the words. knackered them up for eternal sleep. the face she just wiped from this earth, blurred. does she even remember what she looked like?
it was your own arm, meshing around her blistered collarbone that prompted her to gauge the value of her life, even just for an iota of solace time.
problem being, she couldn't remain enlightened of her value- without you.
"i don't wanna lose you."
your lips kissed her pain away, pitter by patter along the scruff of her neck to her seared shoulder. every peck embedded with a melodic note that forges a song saying, 'i am here, you won't lose me' without even brushing that past your satiny lips.
won't you seal my hardships with your lips of silk? taint my lips of leather and gums of thorns with your soothing buds?
"you wont."
then that day arrived, when she almost did. a scene depicted by the ten of swords. a major disaster indicated. as the arrow speared the air suddenly, and in no time you could count, it had already paved through the plate of your shoulder and strung out blood to the planks before you. rendering you unconscious.
"please stop!" ellie pleaded, just like she did before. god forbid if she had to witness another loved one being lacerated from life. her limp body prays, prays for your safe survival, and not your safe passage. she wonders if god is even real, if any god is real. do they hear her now? we're they aware when she shrilled for mercy at every red ribbon lashed out from his body? did they welcome him, home?
and right before that cold steel nearly divided your skin, a voice erupted.
"abby!"
thank fuck you hadn't ended up a resemblance of the 'ten of swords' illustration. thank the sun gods that you were able to bask and tan under the light that fondled the rustic farmhouse with her. ellie is so lucky, for someone who doesn't believe in it.
"don't ever let me see you again."
you then retired to that old, rustic farmhouse. aging under the continuous moon phases for two years straight.
it was a strenuous journey getting to where she was supposed to be the happiest. despite all the treasures she owned on that farm property, the lagoon of corn fields and hills of verdancy that sung in spring, mighty splendors anyone might wish for, ellie still lived with a loom. ellie bore tantrums inside the confined loneliness of the farm's supply room, kicking the hilt of a rake as it clatters to the stony ground, yelling, "fuck!" when it startled her badly enough, or when it enraged her ptsd well enough.
reminiscence is woven into the scar risen on your shoulder. it reminds her. every. damn. glance.
every approaching dream was daunting to ellie. she'd wake up. cold beady sweat. go back to sleep, suffocate in her subconscious again, and surface them in a panic once more. not even braving the night with a stroll around the perimeter helped. it only sunk everything deeper.
if she was drunken in her sorrows, would you carry her?
the daylight spent with you was her only source of felicity. the mundane made it feel much more liveable. a day spent baking together, flour dappled on each other's noses, roused as she pushed up behind, and swayed you to the cordial and funky beats thrumming from the viynl player. that day, that simple day made her want to live fully for you. she wanted to be tied to your pinkie with the lusty filaments of love.
and in that humble kitchen laid a promise;
"so- this means you'll marry me?" a stupid smirk muffled ellie's voice out huskily, flowing against the shoreline of your ear.
"can't we just announce ourselves married already?"
"baabeee.." that freckled idiot whined.
"eelllssss.." you rung back.
her arms fastened you tighter, pout puffing on your shoulder, "i wann' make it feel real.." she intoned, inclining up and stuffing her nose into your neck. pretty sure she rubbed all the flour onto you, being the bear hugger she is.
no answer parts your lips.
"babe?"
ellie felt you twirl in her caging arms, perking up to even up with your gaze in curiosity. her brows fumble and arc inwards to visibly show her interest for your next words.
"we're real, els. i don't need a ring or declaration to show that.." your tone caters to her love of soothing sounds, as she breaks into an even toothier smile that trails your words.
"you don't?"
you had leaned in, devoid of words. a quiet kiss to her brows, said so much more than she expected. that inner-loser knocked on the door of her mind and took control. blasted blush coating her cheeks. you really knew how to woo her, cradling her head in your tender cusp.
"i just need you."
"don't go."
the grounding touch of her cheeks held between your hands was not enough. the blank, void, and unnerving night was not enough. nothing was enough to keep her waiting.
what kind of songs do you play when dwindling into internal madness?
her own screams battle the wood boards of that farm too often. her screams synchronize with joels, replaying in her head. scared and unable to hold onto anything. thoughts running amok. she fucking needs you more than she thought.
"ellie- ellie.. I'm here. it's okay."
it's not okay.
it's not okay for her to play pretend and cast an ocean over those feelings 'when she can'. you told her, it's okay. to be broken. but her heart anchors towards an obligation to be picture perfect for you, for anyone. every positive cover-up felt like posion pooling from her mouth. lying til she couldn't feel her lips.
she lied to you once. for someone who despises lies and has been lied to, she lied. that fucking lie hurt. but it was too loud. the gloom that stuck with her for so long has grown into a pounding, jarring sound similar to intense whirring, but echoed. nothing had color at that point. everything was a null void, and every sound was a silence too loud.
a sentence meant to be; "i'm going to find abby." sounded a lot more like,
"i'm so tired, baby." murmured ellie, collapsed flat on the plateau of your chest and drained of energy.
you assumed it was just physical fatigue.
"it's fine, go t'sleep, we can talk later."
ellie's eyes looked so dull, so scarce of humanity. she was tired. each passing day had been vampirically sucking the motivation from her veins. some days, she didn't even catch you calling her name from the farmhouse. earth to ellie, are you still in there?
"I have to finish it." ellie's forehead bent to yours, felt so wrong.
"why didn't you tell me?"
"I can't." her voice nearly shattered into a waterfall of sobbing.
your voice cracked, however, "bullshit, els."
that was the drawing line. she finally breaks and is consumed by that hovering gloom. she lost herself.
ellie dashed every chance of losing you, and yet took it upon herself to leave you, instead.
that fucking thing that leeched off her for so many years is finally getting what it yearns for. greed of revenge to feed the darkness. starving herself as it ingests every fiber barely holding her together.
you spun away with leisure, breaching your hands from her, "I am - not, doing this again."
you couldn't save this. she was leaving. nothing blocks her way.
heart-wrenching silence dawns.
"that's up to you."
her heels unhurriedly turned in an instant, abandoning you, and her dreams born of soft blue dasies. her omens of happiness and trust, becoming a fatuous foreground. the door waving shut behind her would soon come to bite her in the heart.
now she sits. almost dying in that water. the water was her gloom all along. she was the vessel, she paid the price, it's free. now she bleeds into it. red rivers dance and make a mockery of her weeping body.
she tried.
it won.
she tried for the false clone of you haunting her mind. it's the only thing she had left of you.
she tried so hard to be strong. only she and the gods above know that.
you wouldn't though.
coming home to jackson a walking carcass, pinning her hopes on you being there. it was obvious you moved from the farmhouse. why would you live there alone?
so, she stands. inside your old jackson home, to divulge its absence of you. no, you weren't there. you weren't in jackson. all that remains are old memories crammed into boxes. motionless without a requiem.
ellie closes in on one of these.
and what she finds is painful.
that winter jacket.
she clutches it tight to her barren eyes, burrowing the trench of her nose with your lingering scent. the scenes trance her mind. visions of you tackling her in the thick mud puddle on your farm's acres, an enchanting laugh wheezing in your throat. visions of holding your stomach while you scrubbed fine china of its grub and stains, wishing you two had a real family, a child, by some miracle. recollections of you, legs sitting pretty across her lap as she thrashed a controller, casting her evil curse whenever the game ticked her off just enough and how you giggled at her. the everlasting evocation of you two, kissing under that snow-ether night, vowing a love to extend across times bounds.
the jacket smells so fucking good.
"please.." whispered ellie, with a taut countenance, "where are you.."
not a clue of where you went is in those walls.
are you dead? nobody knows.
where she left the farmhouse, you left her entirely. unknowing if it stems from love, hate, or neutrality. the guilt felt disgusting, once more. the pain stung in her lung far harsher. the air siphoning out.
in a room so devoid of air, and you, how could she breathe?
you can't pay in blood and sacrifice. ellie has learned that. she paid in loss of something that didn't have to go.
love was understanding each other's limits, and so was losing each other. she just never realized you had limits plummeting down on you, until the new moon phase had begun, and it was too late.
that figment of you is all she has left.
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𓍢ִ໋-likes and reblogs appreciated, bright blessings!
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nkville · 7 months
Text
we're not just friends and you fucking know it
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— genre: fluff, angst,
— pairing: bsf!yeonjun x female!reader
— tw: swear words, kissing, slight arguing
— wc: 1.8k
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the fresh air hit your face as you stepped out of the house, feeling the warm smell of freshly baked bread as you went closer to your favorite bakery nearby.
“good morning, mrs. lee! hmm, it smells so good in here.. oh gosh i just love the smell of freshly baked items” you said as you greeted the shop owner, who youve also known since you were a little kid.
“good morning to you too, dear. its nice seeing you here again, what would you like today?”
“uhm let me see, can i please get 2 croissants, 4 small cinnamon rolls, 2 bagels, 2 chocolate and 2 glazed doughnuts please?” you said as she looked at you in shock “oh my, do you perhaps have some guests over today?” she said as she flashed you a surprised look.
“no no mrs. lee, im actually about to go to yeonjuns place, its our 10th year friendship anniversary today and hes been really off lately so i thought why not spend the day with him, starting off with a surprise breakfast with his favourite goodies, isnt that a great idea mrs. lee?”
“oh sure it is a nice surprise, and you know what, since it's your 10th year friendship anniversary, you can have them for free no need to pay for it, enjoy your breakfast dear.” she said flashing you a soft smile giving you all the items you ordered.
“aww thats really sweet of you mrs. lee, but you made them with such effort and id feel really bad for not paying.” you refused, searching for your wallet that was deep inside your bag but mrs. lee stopped you from doing so.
“its a gift for you, my dear. id be really happy if you'd accept it” she said as you quickly thought about it and eventually accepted it.
“thank you so much mrs. lee, i really appreciate it so much, thanks a lot. i wish you a great day ahead!” you said leaving the shop.
“wishing you the same, sweetheart. goodbye!” she waved at you as you left, the excitement of seeing him filling you up as you walked the way to his house.
as you went upstairs to his apartment door, you saw how the door was open.
it was weird, but you just ignored it and slowly went inside looking around, eyes searching for your best friend who was no where to be seen around the house.
“oh wait, he must definitely be in his room sleeping, let me go and take a look” you said to yourself as you placed the bags on the kitchen counter, slowly walking up to his room.
as you slowly peeked through the door, you stood frozen in the doorway, your heart dropping like a stone as you watched your best friend, yeonjun, who you've been secretly in love with for years, passionately making out with another girl on his bed.
the sight felt like a punch to the gut, shattering your heart and the fragile hope you had been holding onto. a lump formed in your throat, trying so hard to fight back tears but you failed.
you quickly turned away, mind swirling with a mix of emotions. the room seemed to blur around you as you stumbled backward, desperately trying to grasp the reality of the situation.
how could he not see the love i had for him, the way my heart beat faster whenever he smiled, or how his laughter could light up even my darkest days? how could he not see all of that? in that moment all these thoughts kept on running around your head nonstop.
you felt weak on your knees, stumbling backward again slightly opening the bedroom door as it swung open a little wider, surprising both yeonjun and the girl he was making out with.
they pulled away from each other, their eyes widening in shock as they realized you were there, witnessing everything.
“wait- y/n its not what it looks like” yeonjun stammered, his voice desperate as he reached out towards you. you shook your head, unable to find your voice.
“no im- im sorry for interrupting you guys, just go on with what you two were doing” you said with a heavy heart, tears filling your eyes as you turned away.
“y/n its really not what you think! its just a misunderstanding y/n believe me” yeonjun called after you but you didnt listen to any of his words, running out of his apartment as fast as you could.
breathless, as you hurried to your apartment, collapsing by the door, tears streaming down your face as the moment kept replaying in your mind again and again, making you cry even harder.
“why did this happen to me.. just why..” you kept wondering to yourself how your best friend, someone who you were deeply in love with, someone who you trusted the most, could be the reason your heart is shattered into a million pieces right now.
you were lost so deep in your thoughts that at first you didnt even hear your phone ringing nearby, not knowing who was calling you.
after a few more rings you finally looked at your phone, seeing the caller id, it was none other than yeonjun himself.
feeling numb, having no energy left to answer, you just ignored the call.
as the day went on, laying down on your bed, you replayed the moments in your mind. suddenly you heard the door bell ring, going up to the door you heard a familiar voice. it was yeonjun's.
there he was, begging you to listen to him and let him explain just once. “y/n just please hear me out once.. i never meant to hurt you and i really need you to understand what happened.” he urged, his voice filled with sorrow.
“i know youre upset with me and that's why im here to make things right, please give me a chance to explain. i can't stand the thought of losing you, y/n please let me explain im begging you” he cried out.
at first you hesitated as you stood frozen for a moment before finally letting him in. as he entered, you looked at him with puffy eyes, quite unsure of what he'll say next. your heart still aching from the hurt he had caused.
despite the pain, a small glimmer of hope flickered within you. as you brought him to the living room, you gestured him to speak, silently urging him to explain himself as you sat there, waiting for him to speak.
“so, what was it that you wanted to say?” you said breaking the awkward silence between the two of you.
“listen, i know ive hurt you a lot today and im really, really sorry but believe me it was all a big misunderstanding, okay?” he said with a shaky voice.
“misunderstanding? really? you call this a misunderstanding?” you said in disbelief as you shook your head, looking into his eyes, frustrated. “i saw what i saw yeonjun and you cant deny it”
“i know it looked bad but i swear it wasnt what it seemed” he pleaded, his voice desperate. “you just have to trust me, hmm?” he added.
“trust you?” you scoffed, giving him a sarcastic laugh. “how can i trust you when i saw you with my own fucking eyes yeonjun? didnt you know i had feelings for you since the beginning, didnt you ever see me the way i see you? did you ever realize how much i love you? all the moments we've spent together, all the things we've done together, you really think there was nothing between us all this time? do they really mean nothing to you?”
“explain to me, please, because i just cant comprehend how this could be a misunderstanding” you added making him look into your eyes with nothing but sincerity and pain reflecting in his eyes.
“look, y/n im really sorry.. i didnt realize you love me the same way i love you, all these years i kept reminding myself that we're just friends and nothing more than that. but seeing how you reacted to me being with another girl just proved to me that you feel the same.”
“wait- prove? what do you exactly mean by that?” you said in pure confusion, not able to understand anything.
“let me just get straight to the point, look, for many years ive been trying to hide this from you but im glad i no longer have to. ive had feelings for you for the past few years y/n but there was just something inside me telling me you dont feel the same.” he said as you looked at him in shock trying to process everything he's saying.
“whenever i saw you with other guys at school or any gathering it makes my blood boil, thinking youre having a better time with them. i just couldnt get myself to tell you how much i loved you because of the fear i had in my heart, thats why one day i finally decided to try and forget about you”
“thats why you had been very weird to me these days, avoiding me all the time ignoring my texts and all that?” you said giving him a soft buy confused look.
“yeah and i was so stupid for doing that, my dumbass really thought i could forget about you while spending time with other girls and ignoring you but ive come to realize that whatever happens my feelings for you will never change.” he said in a comforting tone that made you literally jump inside.
“you shouldve told me, silly, all these years i thought you didnt love me back so i kept quiet.” you told him giving him a soft laugh, sadness fading away as he spoke.
“im happy to know the feeling is mutual though, so glad for finding out you feel the same. to be honest, y/n, i cant describe it with words but i fucking love you so much, really” he confessed, making your heart skip a beat as you smiled widely.
“yeah, thank god both of us found out about each other's feelings. holy fuck i feel so relieved. and yes, i love you too, a lot actually.” you said, as you gave each other a warm hug for a first time in a while, feeling safe in each other's arms.
“soo are we official?” yeonjun asked, making you roll your eyes. “of course we are. what do you think otherwise, stupid”
“ugh i can finally call you mine y/n, all mine. you have no idea how happy i am right now.”
“the feeling is mutual” you said giving him a wink. “also lets just stay like this for a while, yeah? dont wanna let you go”
“as you wish, my love. i love you.”
“i love you too, junie.” you told him, hugging him even tighter while digging your face into his chest, feeling the warmth.
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dumbbitchenergy17 · 8 months
Text
Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 2
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Chapter Two: You Say You Are Holy
Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.
Word Count: 2.7K
Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader
Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries
—————
You say you are holy, And that Because I have not seen you sin. Aye, but there are those Who see you sin, my friend.
Time seemed pointless, with the small window you could at least tell when the sun rose or set. You weren’t going to leave your dwindling hope died by the fourth day. Sat in that cell your only contact with the outdoors was random strangers who ran the place and brought you food that only ended with the food all over them as you screamed threats at them. Maria and Tommy felt like they were hit a dead end, you didn’t interact with anyone unless it was to scream and curse them out until they ran out of the jail with their tail between their legs. You seemed to be just getting started and the rumors had spread through Jackson of a crazed girl in their town jail. Many people urged the council to just kick her out of Jackson and end this madness but the fear of the raiders that have slowly gotten closer and closer to Jackson was the only reason they didn’t release the girl. Tommy had visited you multiple times whether it was to bring food or to speak with you but he was met with silence and he too soon fell victim to the food getting thrown at him.
Tommy sighs leaving the building the remnants of the cold chicken noodle soup still sticking to his once-clean clothes and pieces in his hair. Curses shaking his hair to try and get some of it out knowing he will have to go home and take a shower to get it all out. “New look.” Joel leaning against one of the post comments as his younger brother lets out a sarcastic laugh.
“Funny.” Tommy sighs not liking the smell of soup stuck to his body, “Be happy it was cold soup.” Joel comments and Tommy nods. When this first started they had made the mistake of bringing you hot soup. Poor William was able to protect his face but the burns on his arms were not great.
“Just don’t get it, she’s gotta understand the reasoning here.” Tommy sighs and Joel shakes his head.
“You have to stop treating her like she’s a guest. The reality is you have her here against her will. Drop the hospitality bit,” Joel says before producing an apple, “She doesn’t want a full meal she won’t get one.” He enters the jail ready to be the bad cop to Tommy’s good cop bit. Tommy waits outside before he hears a curse coming inside and Joel coming out his hand held over his eye a grimace in pain.
“She threw the apple at you,” Tommy says and Joel curses once more pulling his hand away revealing the quickly forming shiner from getting an apple chucked at his face. He had entered ready to put the fear of god in you but all he got was an apple to the face and some sharp curses thrown his way. “Little shit.” Joel curses when his fingers touch the quickly bruising skin being careful around his still sensitive nose when you had broken his nose when you escaped.
“Let her starve for all I care,” “Joel, this isn’t the QZ we aren’t animals. She is to be treated with some human respect.” Tommy retorts but knows he was right, he wasn’t sure how she was still alive. It was a real roulette on what days she silently accepted the meal and ate or what was getting tossed at someone. It was leaning on the latter and it was making him a bit nervous how you weren’t allowing yourself to eat. Tommy pinches his nose in frustration he didn’t know what to do with you, “I’ll talk to Maria there has to be something we can do.”
The cell was silent as you picked at the broken chunks of apple you chucked at Joel’s face. You found great pleasure as you kindly accepted it before it quickly was thrown at his face. Curses spit from both people before he stormed off in a rage. You were sure it was driving Tommy and Maria up the wall, you weren’t going to make it easy for them. They were keeping you here against your will and you weren’t going to sit all nice and polite waiting to be set free.
You hear the doors open as footsteps draw closer and you assume it’s Joel ready for round two. “I didn’t think you wanted another black eye you old fuck..” Your voice trails off expecting Joel or Tommy pretty much anyone except the young girl you fought when you first got here. The socket of her eye was black and blue but she doesn’t seem to mind the very large bruise. Her brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail a few hairs framing her face, the small scar going across her eyebrow, her clothes cleaner than yours and her size while yours was a mixture, with the pair of converse on her feet. The two of you are silent as she reaches into her back and you tense up before she pulls out two books and a smaller item. She tosses one of the books as it lands a bit in front of you. Looking at it silently as she flips open her beginning to read hers you lean forward seeing the graphic design on the cover, ‘Savage Starlight’ was the title.
“The hell is this?” You ask and she looks up at you through her similar one with the same title but the cover is a different design.
“It’s Savage Starlight..you know the comic.” She says and your silence has her keep talking, “You never heard of it, yeah know ‘Endure and Survive’ that Savage Starlight.” She deepens her voice when saying ‘Endure and Survive’ and you glare at the comic before you.
“Never fucking heard of it.” You retort and her eyes widen comically, “You have not lived then, best fucking comic ever.” Her hand reaches through the bar pointing at the comic in front of you, “This is the first one. The plot may be a bit confusing but it all makes sense when you read the second issue that dives into the backstory.” She scooches back leaning against the wall across from you flipping open her comic and beginning to read it.
“Why are you here?” You speak up after a minute of silence and she looks at you,
“Wanted to see if you were really as scary as everyone was saying, plus Joel told me to avoid seeing you but that only pushed me more.” She says before she grabs a small bag filled with tiny brown pieces grabbing one and popping it into her mouth. Holding the bag out for you, “Want one, they’re good.” You stare at the clear bag in her hand seeing the pieces of food and your stomach audibly growled. The girl smirks slightly and pours some pieces into her hand before putting them through the bars and you watch in shock. She had no fear interacting with you like this, you inch forward holding your dirty hand out as she pours the food into your palm before eating her own.
“Name’s Ellie.” She says eating another piece as you retreat to the wall looking at the food before grabbing a piece and putting it in your mouth. The sweetness hits your tongue instantly your eyes widen as it melts on your tongue and you quickly put another piece in your mouth to bring back the taste. Ellie watches the wonder in your eyes as you eat the food, “It’s chocolate. One of the people here makes some homemade, it’s like milk, sugar, and this bean called cocoa to give it that taste. People used to eat these all the time when things were normal.”
You nod finishing the chocolate the sweetness still on your tongue a pleasant food you wished to taste more of. You watch Ellie stuff her comic back into her pack and the empty bag of chocolate before she stands, “I’ll try to bring more next time.” She doesn’t move to take the comic as she moves towards the door, “Finish that one and I'll bring the second issue.” Her hand grabs the handle before you call out to her.
“Y/n!” She looks back at you as you sat up slightly, “My name is Y/n.” Ellie gives you a smile before leaving the room and you’re alone once more. You couldn’t describe the feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure you could remember the last time someone gave you something or was just generally kind to you. Looking at the still-untouched comic reaching forward grabbing it and beginning to read quickly pulled in by the plot.
Ellie was able to receive more chocolate the next day returning with the second issue as well and she gave it to you taking back the first one. You both ate the sweet in silence before she read her comic re-reading for probably the twentieth time. She noticed you didn’t read in front of her only watching her with cautious and sharp eyes but when she soon returned the next day you would be accepting the third issue. The conversations were one-sided Ellie happy to fill the silence by talking about anything and after multiple days of quiet, you soon were responding with one-word responses even going to a few sentences. You had learned she was sixteen and for her birthday Joel had taken her to a museum and she stood on a dinosaur, she was originally from Boston coming over here after some mission though she never told you what. She talked about Sally Ride and how she wanted to be an astronaut and see space, she would talk about comics all the time. Her vocabulary is filled with a curse every few sentences. Ellie after much time found out you were eighteen, from Kansas City, you didn’t explain how you got over here to Jackson. Those two small facts were held with the most security and though the young girl pressed for more about your likes and dislikes the things you were passionate about she was met with silence.
Ellie mainly led conversations droning on and on as you silently listened putting in your two cents every once and a while. An unlikely friendship. Well, Ellie said you two were friends but you didn’t agree or disagree with the label. You grew up not speaking to people especially ones your age for most of your life. It had been about three weeks soon pushing towards a month inside that cell and Tommy and Maria noticed to change in you. You still didn’t talk to them but when food was brought by someone there was no screaming or cursing or food getting thrown at them. They weren’t sure where this shift in attitude had come from but they weren’t going to reject this changed behavior though Joel was more skeptical of the motives behind it.
“So I’m thinking of leaves and a moth going down my arm it’s gonna look sick as fuck I can already picture it. I have this friend Cat, she does tattoos she’s got a whole bunch over her.” Ellie explains very enthusiastically speaking with her hands. You nod silently imagining as you watch the girl sketch away in a book her idea. “You ever think about getting one?” She asks glancing from the book and pencil in hand and you shake your head.
“I don’t think it would look good on me.” You shrug, the new clean clothes on your body feeling nice. They actually fit you, unlike the clothes you had stolen from places or crudely altered to fit your body. You were never more grateful for a shower though someone stood right outside the stall to make sure you didn’t try anything. But clean skin and detangled hair were a dream. The warm water was a savior for your tense muscles you would have stayed there for hours if you hadn’t been given a time limit.
“Nah you’d look badass. I can see you with them all down your arms, look sick as fuck.” Ellie leans against the metal and you shake your head at her absurd fantasy. She seems finished with her drawing sliding it through the bars so you can see and you scoot forward. Ellie had once started on the opposite side to soon be sat right beside the door to the cell. You had made slower progress getting about halfway to the door still hesitant.
“Like this! I gotta show Cat but she’ll touch up some things but this is gonna look so sick-shit!” Ellie yells as her head is pulled back and you sit up seeing the pain on the girl’s face.
“Crap my hair is stuck,” You look and she’s right, part of her ponytail was between the hinge of the rusted metal door, “It’s not that much but I don’t think you could pull it free…” You explain having a much better view than the girl who’s half-twisted.
“Just cut it needed a trim anyways.” She says her hands patting her pockets before pulling out the switchblade and holding it open for you. You stare at the weapon before slowly taking it in your hand. “Come on hurry I’m gonna get a crick in my neck.” She urges and you sigh taking the weapon and feeling the weight. It’s been weeks since you had the safety of a blade or gun in your hand to keep you protected.
“Just…don’t move.” You say before moving to the hinge where the hair was caught. Trying to figure out how to cut her hair free you start to bring the blade to her when the door slams open and you jump tightening your grip on the knife. Joel had only caught just a glimpse of Ellie on the ground a pained look on her face and the weapon in your hand before he bursted in.
“Ellie!” “Joel?!” The man rushes over and grabs the arm with the weapon pulling it forward so you slammed into the bars letting it go. He twists your arm as you cry out in pain your face pressed against the bars as you try scratching at his face. Trying to resist but he keeps twisting and you were certain he was going to break your arm. Ellie yells from the ground and your screeches alert Tommy and Maria who were about to come in with lunch finding the scene before them.
“Joel!” Tommy quickly pulls his brother away as you retreat further into the cell. Blood spills from your nose when you slammed into the bar. Clutching your throbbing arm your eyes frantic, adrenaline flooding your veins from the attack. “She had a knife! She was going to hurt Ellie!” Joel yells glaring at you as Tommy holds him back.
“She was helping me!” Ellie says to Joel, Maria frees her from the tangled section of her hair now shorter than the other. “She wasn’t going to hurt me!”
“You mean again! She’s dangerous what were you thinking!?” Joel now free from Tommy pulls the girl away from the cell being a block between you and the girl. The man doesn’t let the girl defend herself or you as he grabs the girl’s pack pulling her out of the room leaving Tommy and Maria to see the cold expression on your features.
“Kid..” “Get the fuck out.” You cut Tommy off as you find they make no action to leave, “Get the fuck out! Fucking leave! You fucking bastards fuck you!” You scream grabbing Ellie’s sketchbook and chucking it at them as they dodge it and you kick the remaining breakfast at them barely getting on their shoes, “Get out! Get the fuck out! Fucking leave!” The two rush out your screaming not ending until you are certain they are gone. Your blood boils but the air is thin as you struggle to catch your breath your body hitting the wall as you slide to the ground. Your nails dig into your palms not even registering the pain and the blood in your palms as you are left alone once more. The slow progress the girl had made was now lost.
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adora-but-ginger · 1 year
Text
Sparks Fly
pairing: joel miller x gn!reader
summary: joel and ellie find someone who isn’t too pleased with how them and joel’s last interaction went.
word count: around 2.1k
warnings: typical tlou violence and warnings (i’m comparing it to the game’s usual amount), angst that turns into fluff, slight tlou part one spoilers in terms of people mentioned, use of weapons and guns, swearing, joel getting frustrated because no one is letting him talk, ellie on her queen shit
masterlist
a/n: i love naming fics after taylor’s songs, they’re so fun! also don’t ask for a timeline because all i know is that it’s before the university but after bill, but oh my god i love this game so much, and the tv show is just *chefs kiss* so far. on my pedro pascal shit as usual, but i really like writing for joel! oh and i wrote this literally three hours ago and could not tell you what is going on. thank you for reading <3
should i make a part two?
one last thing! don’t repost my stories, if you do, i hope a clicker gets you, yes you, first :) 
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(credit to gif owner!)
Joel Miller was many things, but apologetic wasn’t one of them. So, when he felt the all too familiar whoosh of a bullet purposely landing in the dirt not even a foot beside him, he knew showing up was a mistake. If Tess hadn’t put that damned idea in his head to check in on you, he really wouldn’t have put another conscience thought in your direction. 
You appeared in his unconscious mind much more than he’d like to admit though. 
Snapping back to his current reality, he heard an all too familiar voice, albeit tinted with the age of surviving all these years, yell towards him and Ellie packed full of fury.
“Weapons on the ground and hands up now.” When no one moved, the voice reverberated again. “Now.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie shot a look towards the older man, her face proving her to be more annoyed than anything. 
“If I need to repeat myself again, the next shot won’t miss. Hands. Up.” 
Setting his revolver on the ground, he closed his eyes as he slowly called your name in a hesitant greeting. Ellie snapped her head towards him again at his familiarity with you. “This is who Tess was talking about? Seriously?” 
“Ellie--” Joel scolded, turning slowly to face you. His eyes moved from the dirt beneath him to meet your eyes, and that’s when he knew he really shouldn’t have come. You look a bit startled, a bit of anger rising beneath your gaze, as the realization of who you were talking to hit. 
“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Joel Miller before me right now?” A scoff accompanied your words. Joel gritted his teeth, a deep sigh rumbling through him. 
“Listen, I--” Your voice cut his off before he could even form a sentence.
“Give me one good reason why I don’t put a bullet between your eyes this very moment. I told you not to show your face to me again.” 
Ellie flipped her hands over, eyes narrowing. “Joel what is going--” 
“Ellie now is not the time.” His accent was cutting through thicker than usual, most likely due to the situation. “Tess told me to make sure you’re still alive and I figured, hell, we could use some help.” 
He saw your eyes roll, but you holstered your gun anyways. “Last time I talked to her, I told her to leave me be.” Your head moved towards the teen. “Who’s she?”
Ellie spoke up before he had the chance to. “She is none of your business.” 
“This is Ellie.” Joel lowered his arms back to his sides. “Listen, I know that we left each other on a lousy note, but--” 
You cut him off again, cussing under your breath. “Considering it a ‘lousy note’ would be putting it mildly. Plus, it was not a mutual leaving.” 
“Goddammit, can you stop interrupting me?” He closed his eyes in frustration, taking another breath to try to calm his nerves. “Can we discuss this inside somewhere? It took us too many infected to get here just for all of us to be out in the open like sitting ducks.” 
“Who do you take me for? You know damn well that I of all people would keep this place guarded.” He saw you shift into a more casual stance, slouching on on leg, hostility still present in your glare towards him. “Yeah, follow me. But--” you raised your pointer finger towards the two. “Don’t go off the path. I’ve loaded this place with traps that took way too long to set up just for someone to carelessly set off.” 
Walking behind you from a distance, Joel glanced around at the spot you had set up for yourself to live in. A nudge from Ellie brought his attention to her. 
“What the fuck did you do to piss them off so much?”
He took a second before answering. “I got them caught in a FEDRA ambush, not knowingly of course, but they didn’t stick around long enough for any explanations.” He looked at the old ruins they were all passing by--barns ruined by the bombs that hit non-quarantined areas, cars overgrown with that copper-tinted rust, wire lined up as defenses on all four sides of them. If it weren’t for the green that came with nature reclaiming what was taken from her, this place, this planet, would be a wasteland. 
Humans weren’t the only thing being destroyed. 
“Were you in a relationship with them or something?” She smirked as she spoke. 
“That’s not relevant information.”
Her smirk now fully forming into a grin, she continued with a chuckle. “Oh, you totally were!”
He grunted in response, quickly mumbling a “that’s none of your business” before quickening his steps to meet yours, partially to avoid any more questions, and partially to make sure you weren’t leading them to an untimely death.
As the trio strolled into the makeshift camp, Joel took another look at you. Age had done you well, and while he knew he was walking on ice thin as a sheet of paper, part of him was glad to see you. 
He was never that good with emotions--he had a tendency to close most feelings out besides the consistent fear and anger that came with living in this time, and people knew that. He wasn’t good with understanding that people cared about him, or that he cared for others. 
Not since Sarah at least. 
But for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt something other than those two feelings blossom when he talked to you. He didn’t have a name for what he felt, but his shitty reality got a little better whenever you were around, and that had to mean something, hadn’t it? 
“I have some food in the kitchen if you two are hungry, down the hall to the left.” You called out, going to the right instead. He followed Ellie into the kitchen you had set up, her moving to rummage through anything she could find for the both of them. He was still lost in his own world, a world which was filled with nothing but memories of what life used to be. 
It was the Ellie’s voice that brought him back to the current moment, a trend he had begun to notice. 
“You think they’re beautiful.” Her words carried an sense of teasing around them.
Joel nearly choked on the air around him at her statement, the wind being knocked out of him just by her call out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Except you do.” An accusatory finger pointed his way. “You get this...look in your eye that I can’t explain, but it’s the same look you get only when you see something beautiful. A sunset, a new weapon, them.” she smirked as she said the last part. 
“Have you found anything to eat yet?” Changing the subject was his next best option. Ellie hadn’t known him for that long and already she was starting to read him like an open book. He could see her little celebration at her victory as she turned towards the cabinets. “Go see if you can find any supplies or anythin’ of the sorts after the grub, and no more talk about this.” 
Taking one last look at the room, he went to go find you, which given the size of the establishment didn’t take very long. He could hear Ellie say “You like them!” in a sing-song manner as he left, and he opted to ignore her as he moved through the rooms. 
When he walked into the space you were in and saw you, he took a second to notice what had changed over the years. He wasn’t sure if you noticed him yet and was thankful for bit of quiet if he was being honest. He knew back then that had the two of you met pre-outbreak, he damn near would’ve fallen for you in a heartbeat, and Tommy would’ve made fun of him for it for hours. The way you held yourself, your personality, how you made an effort to care about him, well, needless to say he would have made a move much sooner than he did. 
You held his heart in the palm of your hand, and you didn’t even know it. 
Your hair hadn’t changed much, but if he looked closely enough, he could see some gray speckling its usual colour. He shook his head as he realized that the girl was right about his feelings towards you. 
Goddammit, Ellie.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His eyes widened at the fact that he’d been caught by you, who turned around to face him with an eyebrow raised. When he didn’t respond, you disappeared into a little room to the right, emerging moments later with a wet cloth, handing it to him. He was never a man of many words, and you always respected that. “You smell, wash your face a bit yeah?” 
Taking it, a chuckle emitted from deep within him. “Good to see you haven’t changed much.” It felt good to feel the cool water on his face. 
“Joel, why are you here, seriously?” The way you looked at him made an unusual flutter erupt from his heart, not that he would ever admit that out loud. The effect you had on him made him feel like a goddamned high-schooler.
“She’s important, Ellie is, and I need to get her to the fireflies.” You scoffed at the last part, and you rolled your eyes, sitting down at a little table near the little room’s entry, motioning him to do the same.
“You know the fireflies are full of it. What, is she the daughter of some big wig or somethin’ like that?” 
He mirrored your scoff, slouching into the chair across from you. “Somethin’ like that. You just got to trust me on this one.” 
You raised an eyebrow and just slightly tilted your head in response. “Remember what happened the last time I trusted you?” 
He kept his mouth shut at that, a silence so loud that a clicker could walk through unalarmed, tension filling the air.
“I didn’t know that they were planning to sell you out, was just relaying information down the line.” 
He watched you as you pushed up from your chair with another roll of your eyes, stretching in the process. “Yeah, well you did. It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to, but that was a real shitty thing you did to me there.” 
He heard you take a deep breath at his lack of response. 
“But I guess we’ve all done things we regret since the outbreak, so might as well let bygones be bygones, yeah? How about a fresh start?” When he met your gaze, he saw a brief whisp of a smile grace your features, going by so quick that he could have imagined it. 
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He felt a weight he didn’t recognize leave his shoulders, and maybe that’s why he spoke what he did next. “You could come with us, you know, to deliver Ellie. God knows she gets tired of me sometimes, and I wouldn’t mind the company.” He couldn’t control the words leaving his mouth and didn’t even process what he said until he saw your contemplating face. His heart was beating faster, and he cursed himself for acting like a boy with a little crush. 
“Plus, he thinks you’re beautiful!” A third voice rushed in, making the two others whirl to see Ellie standing in the door frame, eyes wide and locking with his almost as if he would stop her if she spoke any slower. Which he would’ve. 
“Ellie, I swear to all things holy you--” 
Your laugh makes his words die off, amusement echoing in its wake. “Always been the charmer, you have, Joel.” Walking to face him with the brunette behind you, you leaned in close to his ear before continuing. “A fresh start, right?” and then he felt it. You had placed a kiss right on his cheek, and a feeling he hadn’t felt since he saw you last rose within him. Looking at you with pupils slightly blown, he watched as you winked at him before heading towards Ellie. “So, he say anything else like that about me?” 
Not many could break the exterior he placed as a barrier for himself--it took some people years to even get a kind response out of him. But not even an hour after running into you again, and he knew he was putty in your hands.
Joel Miller was many things, and in love (whether he would admit that to himself or not), was becoming one of them.
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youn9racha · 2 years
Text
Wet Dreams
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requested by: anon
pairing: bff!felix x bff!reader
genre: smut
synopsis: felix developed an odd and sexually frustrating infatuation towards you, to the point he has dreams of things he would wish to do to you, yet he has to hide it from you so as to not drive you away from him, until on a certain night came that made reveal everything...
warning: piv, sexual dreams, perv!felix, some perv!reader, masturbation (both fem and masc), voyeurism (?), blow jobs, rushed ending
words: 3.1 k
a/n: ik i said i was gonna do a chan smut, but i intially was set with this lix fic that never seemed to finish, but thankfully i did <3 idk if anon is inactive or not (hopefully not) but if you're still active hopefully you enjoyed it <33
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This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.
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“Mmh, yes Felix, you fuck me so well!”
Your whines echo through every corner of the room as Felix inserts himself in and out of you at a good amount of speed where it was fast and hard enough to give you pleasure. He looks down with grunts and heavy breathing, seeing your breasts bounce along with the rhythm of his cock hitting the right spots through his blissed-haze vision.
“Oh, God, (y/n), do I—mm—do I fuck you good?” Usually, he would have felt pathetic at the way he whined out the question, but at that moment he did not care about how his usual deep vocals turned into a high pitch mewl, he finally got to feel you in a way he never would have thought of being in; fucking his crush, his best friend, and making you feel so good as he would hope.
“Yes, yes, you do,” you repeated the ‘yes’ like a prayer indicating how well he is performing as the head, as well as the loud pornographic-like moans that spill out of your mouth. It triggered something within Felix as he suddenly found himself going faster in you, making you straight call out his name, hoping that he could make you come with him simultaneously.
“Oh, Felix! Oh fuck, I’m so close!”
He whines and groans as he grips onto your hips to make his penetration deeper, “me too, baby—ah! Fuck! Please come with me…”
He begged as he was going faster but suddenly, he noticed her voice was silent. Fearing he was hurting you, he slowed down and regained his vision only for you to suddenly disappear and see a body pillow in place of you. He blinked in a confused and sat straight as he wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked around the room to look for you.
“(Y/n)?” Felix called out as he suddenly heard a whisper, that vaguely sounds a lot like you, and is repeating the phrase repeatedly.
“Wake up, Felix… Wake up…”
And suddenly Felix felt his eyes open up to the ceiling, gasping for air and panting. He got up and looked around his room for reassurance that what just happened was a reality or dream. He looks at the time and sees it was 4 a.m. He sighs in frustration into his hand and shakes his head. “Another fucking dream,” he mutters as he wipes his face down before widening them again. He throws his blanket away and looked down at his boxer shorts only to see them stained in a big dark patch in the center.
“Ugh, fucking hell,” he cringed, “it’s like middle school all over again… it’s too much,”
This was Felix’s third wet dream of the week. Recently Felix has been getting those erotic dreams and you would think he would enjoy them, which he won’t lie and say he doesn’t, but he was mildly disturbed over how repetitive those dreams were. They were practically the same; Felix fucking someone repeatedly and then gets rudely interrupted as soon he was about to come. But it wasn’t just anyone, it was you.
You and Felix have been friends for as long as you two could remember. You two went far back and enjoyed each other’s company, so much so that recently you both moved in together to make living easier and affordable. He always has thought of you somewhat platonically for the most part. He didn’t know where the sudden romantic—sexual—admiration come from; all he knows is that since the moment he realized he had developed feelings for you, he had been dreaming about you in a not-so-amicable way.
He feels guilt, but the sight of you splayed out naked for him truly sets him off and these dreams are not helping him in any cause. It’s all he thinks about when he jerks off as well, he would envision his fist to be your warm walls wrapped around his cock and just ride him all day and night. It doesn’t help that the minute things you would do would trigger it; like when you laugh at a bad joke of his or wear something simple like a sundress with a ponytail on, just the small things you could do would make him hard instantly. But he couldn’t risk throwing away years of friendship for his sexual needs, he would push that to the side for its sake. So, it's just him and his hand or perhaps his fleshlight for now.
Flash forward to today, where Felix got up from his bed to take his boxer off and switch it out for a new one. Once wore a new fresh pair, he noticed himself starting to lose sleep. He didn’t bother trying to go back to sleep, especially since he doesn’t have work today, so what’s the harm in staying up? Felix got out of his room to the hallway to wash his face and brush his teeth. On his way there he passed your room and paused as if he was a deer seeing headlights. if it weren’t for his slight alertness, he would have missed the whimpers that came out of your room.
Felix furrowed his brows in confusion at the sound especially when he got back and got closer to your door. Initially, he thought you were in pain of some sort, as you were muttering a bunch of ‘ah’s and ‘fuck’s. Whatever that is happening didn’t stop him from the blood getting to his head, and he ended up grumbling at himself for letting himself feel turned on by the noises you were making. You could be genuinely in pain, and he’s over here being grossly aroused by your hisses. But his guilt faded as he heard his name in a dragged-out, almost pleasurable, moan.
“Felix… mmm…”
Felix had his eyes widened as he realized the two possibilities of what was happening behind the door; you were either masturbating to the thought of him or also been having a raunchy dream.
“Fuck…” Felix muttered to himself as he got closer to the door, to have a better hearing. He sees that the door is slightly open, not too wide where he could notice, but enough where he can see your bed. The lower part of your body was covered, but you were laying naked in bed, one hand was on your breast, pinching your nipple, and the other was also covered by the door, but it is a no-brainer that you were pleasuring yourself. Not just pleasuring yourself though, but you were masturbating to the thought of him, Felix, your best friend. The mere sight of you calling out his name and playing with your tits could easily make Felix come on his pants.
While he hates to admit it, Felix felt like a pervert from the moment he started having dreams of you in a bawdy way. He likes to maintain his usual respectful demeanor and banters with you as friends would, but it doesn’t change the fact each time you show any skin, whether it’d be your cleavage or your thighs or any body parts you show, he’d want to take you at this moment. His disgusting thoughts about ways to make you scream out his name inhabit his brain without paying rent and it’s not like he’s going to send an eviction letter, especially not at this moment.
Who would have thought that this whole time you must have thought of Felix the same way he does of you?! Certainly not him. Either he’s an oblivious person who doesn’t read between the lines or you were good at hiding your signs of interest, he would have not thought you felt the same due to you actively going out on dates. ‘That must explain the failed relationships’ he thought to himself.
He pushed that thought to the side and proceeded to look at you pleasuring yourself, but this time he begins palming himself, as he admires you from afar, and enjoys being the audience. He sees your out-of-view hand start to go faster, followed by the squelching noises of presumably your fingers going in and out collecting your juices and your moans getting louder before you slow down, presumable edging yourself. The sight of you sighing in your masochistic decision to stop before going back to pick up where you left off drove Felix insane as he took his cock out and started to stroke along at your pace, biting his lips to not make a sound.
‘What am I doing? This is so messed up, regardless of if she’s thinking of me or not’ Felix was thinking rationally but it was too late for that, especially not when he already is jerking off. The pace of his hand matches up with yours, even as far as edging himself when you do so, but he had to keep his lip bitten to not reveal himself being in this situation.
“Oh… Felix…” you hissed out as you started to pick up the pace once again and Felix does the same. You found yourself finally almost orgasming but stopped. This time however wasn’t because of your conscious choice. Felix wanted to have a greater look at you, and his attempt to open the door slightly but not enough to alert you failed miserably as the creak of the door deafens the room, replacing it with the sound of your heavy breathing and wet noises.
You gasped as you closed your legs and covered yourself with the blanket as you looked at the door. You see Felix in the doorway, “Felix, what are you doing—” your words were interrupted as you noticed his compromising position; he was hunched slightly with his hand holding the shaft of his cock, as if he were rubbing one out. You two looked at each other flabbergasted as you two realized what was happening.
“Were you looking at me this whole time?” you shyly asked.
“Uh… yeah,” Felix responded equally bashful.
“Well… why didn’t you come in?”
Your question caught him off guard, even though it shouldn’t, considering the obvious call out for his name while you were rubbing your swollen clit and inserting your fingers, imagining him instead of your digits. It was rather dumb, and he sure should have walked in, but it was too late, especially since his hand was already on his hard cock.
“Um… well… I-I didn’t know if you’d react negatively, even though you were calling out my name and such…” Felix nervously rambled, letting go of his shaft and placing it back in his boxer, and proceeded to fidget with his hand. He notices that you were staring at his cock which looks like it was about to burst through his shorts, and he could only gulp as he blushes at the way you were looking at him, eyes filled with lust.
“Come here,” you seductively invited by facing him and sitting on the edge of your bed. Felix obliged as he walked up to you, you put on fake innocent eyes as you were looking up at Felix as you pushed down his boxer shorts. His glistening head was freed from its restrain and slapped Felix’s lower stomach, shuddering in response. You looked down at his cock, slightly drooling at the sight, getting on your knees before having your eyes up at him as you wrap your hand around it.
“Tell me, Felix, how long have you thought of me?” You said whilst stroking him, squeezing at the ideal places to elicit any noises coming out of him, which worked as he moaned in pleasure rather than answering your question. “Has it been long?” You asked, still maintaining the slow pace.
Felix could only mewl as a response, but he managed to nod at your question, making you smile and tilt your head in curiosity, “words, Lixie…”
“Y-yes, been thinking about you… for…fuck.”
His words were scrambled, incoherent in response. You would edge him right there, but you decided against it, thinking it wasn’t the right time. Instead, you smiled at him before you lowered your gaze to his cock and then back to him as you slowed your hand movement. Felix had his mouth agape, unsure of what was to come, but that quickly changed when you wrapped your lips around him, letting out strings of moans coming from him. He started to pant when you began to bob your head, looking up at him teasingly while you swallowed him whole, his head hitting the back of your throat. He fought every urge to not buck himself into you, but the pleasure you were giving him was making him go wild.
He feels himself getting closer and he begins to cry out and whines, “(y/n), I’m so close… stop… I don’t want to come like this…”
You enjoyed hearing how his deep voice was transformed into a high-pitched subby mewls, which you carried on bobbing to elicit more of his cute sounds. However, what you didn’t expect was having your hair pulled back by Felix, pulling your mouth out of his cock, creating a pop sound. He held a gentle yet firm grip on your hair, facing you up at him, as he pants and hisses at the sensation of the air-conditioned cold air hitting his saliva-coated cock.
“I said, I don’t want to come like this…” He whispered, his dark eyes lasered back at you, “get on the bed.”
His submissive side suddenly disappeared and in came this side of Felix you didn’t expect to see, which you didn’t mind whatsoever. You instantly obliged as he strips his shirt off and reveal his defined toned body to you, the body you’ve examined for so long. You weren’t completely innocent either in the realm of perversion, you had spied on Felix when he changes and/or showered, and you would ogle him the same how he would look at you the same way.
Your memory lane was disrupted when you heard the door shut, you looked up at Felix and see him carry a foil wrapper of a condom which he ripped with his teeth. He must have gotten a spare from his room while you were reminiscing, but it doesn’t matter as you prepared yourself by spreading your legs while he takes the protective cover and wraps it around his cock, pumping it slightly to make sure it stays secure. You bit your bottom lip in excitement as you looked up to him while he lines himself against your glistening hole.
“Ready?”
“Go all in…”
That’s all Felix needs as he inserts himself within your velvet walls, resulting in strings of moans and curses coming from both of you. After a few adjustments, Felix began moving in a steady motion to be cautious and fearing to not harm you. While you admired his kind gesture, you felt that you weren’t going anywhere if Felix kept at this pace.
“Go deeper, Felix,” you breathed out against his ear. He looked at you, his freckled face flushed in ensuing pleasure, “what?” he blurted out, his sense of self-being slightly out of it.
You took it upon yourself by wrapping your legs around his waist, your heel digging into his bare back made him realize what you were saying, and almost instantly Felix started to pick up speed and drill further in you just as you were told.
Your moans echoed exactly how you would in his dream, he lifted himself off you to have a good look at you as his cock constantly bore itself in and out of you. This was exactly like his last dream, you splayed out in your bed, breasts bounced to the beat of his cock slamming into the desired spot, skin slapping, and moans of each other’s names coming from both of your mouths were the only sounds being played in the room. His hand gripped your hips firmly as you yelped out his name and whined along with it as your head falls back.
Felix began running his hand through your whole body as he groans out about how good you feel around him.
"Oh, god, (y/n) ... you feel… so fucking good,” he breathed out followed by a groan as you occasionally clench around him. “Oh, how I wish this wasn’t a dream,” he mutters, not realizing what he was saying, which made you chuckle through your moans.
“Oh, baby, this is no dream…” Your voice was cut by your uncontrollable moan before continuing, “this is too good to be a dream…”
The way you were speaking to him drives him even more insane as he speeds up and his growls increase in volume, as well as your mewls and yelps. You felt your ropes tighten to the point of it snapping, “Lixie… I’m so fucking close…”
Felix was not far away from you as shown by the irregular speed and depth he was going, so he began encouraging you to come along with him. After a few more thrusts in and out of you, he came inside the condom with you following along after he thrusts in you to make you reach your orgasm and to slightly overstimulate himself.
After catching both of your breaths, Felix pulled himself away from you and removed the condom off himself before tying it and throwing it in the trash. You could only lay there still panting at the ungodly yet unbelievably pleasant session you had with your so-called best friend. You see him walking up to you to sit next to your laying body, unsure if the red face was from abashment or from the sex you two just had. How can he act all shy and cute as if he didn’t fuck you so good you almost saw God?
“Hey, you alright?” he asked in a caring manner while massaging my side. Can’t believe those caring hands were the same that bruised my hips… can’t say I’m one to complain.
“I’m doing excellent, you?”
“Oh, I’m doing wonderful,” he responded enthusiastically, his Australian accent thickened for some reason. You two looked at each other admiration spread through your gazes. Neither of you knew where all this was coming from, but you two didn’t care; the appreciation you two have for each other was very prevalent by the second each time you two hung out. While you two are too tired to speak of this matter, you were certain that he is feeling the same you were feeling and could possibly make a change in the relationship… but hopefully for the better.
And to think this all started from a messed-up dream you both had for each other…
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