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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 2 months

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A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.”

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?”

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker.

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod.

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod.

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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barblaz-arts · 6 months

Note

I respect your opinion about the Israel-Palestine war, but you need to know that the ones that are putting the Palestine people in danger are Hamas, they are not letting people leave. They are forcing them be there.

To them risking people's lives is nothing, they want to kill and erase the Jewish population.

You need to know that the IDF lets people know where and when there will be a shoot so the people will leave the building (there's a tactic that calls knocks on the roof)

However, after the event on October 8, The IDF WILL ELIMINATE ALL THE HAMAS PEOPLE.

So instead of "free Palestine" write "free people from hamas"

No, I will not do that.

I will not write anything that takes away accountability from Israel, just as I will abhor Hamas' terrible actions. Because this was never about Hamas. Israel doesn't give two shits to differentiate whether who is a member of it or not. Never mind the fact that none of you still acknowledge that Hamas exists because of Israel in the first place. They've been doing this shit since before Hamas and they've upped the scale because they are finally given a good excuse to, or as good as it can be if you're dumb and/or heartless enough to believe them.

"the IDF lets people know where there will be a shoot so people leave the building" You mean like when they threatened the doctors of that chirstian hospital, telling the staff to abandon the injured refugees? Saying that they gave them a choice and that it's their fault for staying, despite the fact that they cannot fucking leave the damn hospital because there are people who need treatment? How considerate of them to do that before blowing them to bits. And I mean literal bits. A lot of the corpses were not intact. But what about when they gave a route that Palestinians could use to flee, promised it was safe, but still murdered them in cold blood? Such terrible manners, gosh.

You Pro-Israel pieces of shit still dont have the balls to go out of anon to say all these, by the way. Very telling.

#free palestine #ceasefire in gaza

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denpa-dere · 7 months

Text

hello and welcome to my house arrest series. this is going to be super self-indulgent and a little different than my last couple of fics. think of this as the backstory and i'll link to branching paths as i update (assuming i dont immediately get overwhelmed and abandon it).

___

afab!mc x polyship

description: NSFW (though the intro is just suggestive), you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower?

warnings: straight up breeding kink fodder. she/her pronouns and afab!mc descriptions. a little humiliation if you squint.

|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) ||

___

So, about that morning...

You opened and closed your mouth once, then twice. You swallowed thickly.

“What..?” The question trailed off into the ether.

Across from you sat Lucifer, brow furrowed and eyes screwed shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, looking very much like he’d rather sink into the floor than continue this conversation.

“I’m aware how uncomfortable this situation may be,” He said, feeling a migraine brewing behind his eyes, “But your cooperation is necessary. We can’t risk any unknown quantities around you, right now.”

Unknown quantities. How tactful. You laughed despite yourself. Lucifer’s head shot up in response, face a mix of equal parts frustration and concern.

“It’s for your own protection,” He said, sympathetic but no less firm.

To your credit, your compliance was never really in question. Lucifer was certain you very well understood the dangers of being around others in your current state. Though he would never admit such a thing, this lecture was almost as much for himself as it was for you.

Your face was flushed, eyes wide, expression inscrutable. You stared into your lap at your upturned hands, closing and unclosing them.

“Can I… Can I at least go about the house like normal?” You asked.

Good question, Lucifer thought, hoping you hadn’t caught the briefest flash of a frown cross his features.

On one hand, confining you to your room would definitely lower morale; not just with you, but sending a ripple effect throughout the household. Besides, what sort of message would that send to you about your safety in their company?

On the other hand, breakfast had nearly turned into an all-out war.

Lucifer stood and sighed, moving to make his exit, “Just… try to keep your wandering to a minimum. Please.”

You nodded eagerly, thankful for the leniency. Then, you were alone.

You smell different. Something in the way Beel had looked at you made you suddenly acutely aware of how small you were.

The memory sent a cold rush through you. You grabbed a pillow, holding it against yourself for comfort. Even though you hadn’t done anything wrong, you felt exposed. Could you even bring yourself to face them after this morning?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand beside you. Your finger hesitated over the screen.

The memory of Asmo’s laughter echoed in your skull, “Oh, you poor thing!”

You felt your stomach drop. Today felt like an exercise in humiliation.

The brawl in the dining room replayed in your mind.

You tapped the message notification.

Satan: I’ll take notes for the classes you miss.

Oh, well, that wasn’t so bad, actually. You tapped out a quick “Thank you!” in reply, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so worked up. These were your friends.

How was anyone supposed to know that going off your birth control would change your scent so dramatically? Sure, demons had heightened senses, but something so minor as a hormonal shift? That you were ovulating?

You fell back on your bed and covered your face with your hands. It was a small comfort when you felt like you couldn’t hide.

You could all be mature about this, right?

#obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #x reader

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mangoshorthand · 1 year

Note

Hii I'm a real sucker for your smuts and I was wondering if you could do a five one where he walks in on reader riding their pillow and thinking about him while doing it (and they haven't had intercourse in a long while because of apocalypse stuff and all that) and the aftermath where you can do anything with it after but I'd really like it if five was being gentle to the reader :<

Sorry this is a long req I hope you write it and it's okay if you dont wanna, thankiee 🫶

Your welkiee! Hope you enjoy. 😊 Lucky Fucking Pillow | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 3k words, Rated E

It had been four weeks: four fearful, lonely, miserable weeks. You felt stupid, irritated with him. You hated the fact you were waiting at home for him like the sweetheart of a world war two vet, living on the letters he sent from the front lines.

You held it together until just before he left, duffel bag over his shoulder.

“The situation’s dangerous; unpredictable. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

On the floors below you, you could hear a bustle of activity as his siblings made similar preparations to leave.

“Why is this your responsibility?”

He looked at you, disbelievingly, the hand not supporting the bag went directly into his pocket.

“This is the world. Am I supposed to sit at home and wait to be subsumed by another apocalypse?”

You shook your head, bringing your knees up to your chest, not able to articulate what you were feeling.

“Let me come with you then.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, picked up the last of his morning coffee and knocked it back, shaking his head.

“I’m not having this discussion again. I’d want you beside me in anything else, but not in this. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. Your best chance of survival is staying well away.”

“What if you die? What am I supposed to do?”

From slight irritation, he softened further. Bending from the waist, he kissed your forehead.

“I love you, okay.”

He crossed to the door, but a strangled sob made him turn back. Your face was suddenly red, tear-streaked. When you spoke, the words tore themselves from a tight throat.

“Don’t go!”

He closed his eyes, hand still on the door handle. He let out a breath and dropped the duffel bag, turning back around, crossing the room in two strides and holding you close, your head against his chest.

“I have to, angel. I’m so sorry.”

Since then, your days had been spent scouring the horizon for impending doom and following the news incessantly for any hints of what was going on. Your nights had been spent sleepless, remembering Five’s caresses and trying to get your head around the fact that you and everyone else could die at any moment.

You at least knew he wasn’t dead. He got messages to you sporadically; short dispatches from the field. They appeared mostly via an ancient telegraph machine stowed in Reginald’s old office. The most recent of these hadn’t been very encouraging:

We’ve got a plan, but it’s tenuous. If it doesn’t work, we’ll really be fucked. If that’s the case, then I hope to see you on the other side, -F x

smut below cut

They were four sexless weeks too. You quickly discovered that it takes more than the threat of imminent death to crush the human capacity for horniness. Before that month, you would have thought it would be a deluge of cold water on your libido, but that was far from the case.

On the contrary, knowing that time could be short, all you could think about was having Five in your arms again: running your hands all over his body, the feeling of his lips on yours and the sensations of his lovemaking.

As you lay in bed, his phantom was a heavy, intoxicating presence. Your need for him was strong tonight. You rolled to look at his empty side of the bed and imagined his head on the pillow. His eyes (that fickle forest green that masqueraded as blue in some lights and brown in others), you imagined them shaded by his hair. You saw his raised eyebrow, his smile, soft and suggestive, with the dimple that only appeared on one side of his face, recessing two large freckles by his mouth.

You pulled his pillow to you and buried your face in it. It smelled of him. You inhaled it deeply: his aftershave, his antiperspirant, his shampoo, a hint of coffee and something more indefinable: a more fundamental scent that was all him.

It was this last smell that made your stomach flip, that made you breathe in the scent of the pillow again. It awakened something primal in you: ripples from your center outwards; flutters down each of your limbs.

Before you knew it, you were stripping off your panties and kneeling up in bed. One hand held his pillow to your face and the other held your own pillow between your legs. When you started to grind, it was him beneath you. In imagination, he was teasing you: not allowing you to get on his dick until you came from humping his leg.

It wasn’t enough friction, so you sped up your hips, snapping them back and forth desperately. There was a whisper of something, a tingle from your neglected pussy, so you chased it, sinking deeper into the fantasy and imagining his hands squeezing your hips, guiding you as you rode him.

“Oh, Five,” you whispered, feeling your body begin to respond, wetness gathering between your labia, “Five, fuck.”

You threw your head back and closed your eyes.

“Hm,” said an approving voice from the doorway, “that lucky fucking pillow.”

You gave a violent start, dropped his pillow and turned around. There he was, framed in the open doorway. You gave a grateful, ecstatic cry.

“Five!”

In nothing but your t-shirt, you were across the room in a leap and bound and throwing yourself against him, holding him to you with sudden, tight urgency.

He immediately stiffened and let out a sharp groan of pain. You loosened your grip

“Oh my god, what happened? You’re hurt! Are you okay? Is it over? Is everyone okay? Is the world okay?”

He was holding himself stiffly, but now his pain had faded, his face was amused. He leaned forward and kissed your lips. On your side, the kiss was desperate, joy-filled; on his, more passionate. His tongue flicked between your lips before he broke away.

“How about this? l answer each of your questions if, each time, you answer me one in return?” he said, smirking.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, smiling gently, “but that wasn’t a question.”

You were too happy to see him to have space to be irritated by this game.

“Fine. What happened to you?”

He moved as if to put his bag down on the chair. Seeing his wince, you took it off him and placed it there yourself.

“Thanks. It’s just a wound. There was an explosion. I was hit by a piece of flying steel.”

“Shit,” you whispered, looking down at his chest and the bandages that must be underneath his shirt, “oh my god, are you okay?”

“Hey,” he admonished, “it’s your turn to answer a question now. What were you doing when I came in?”

You looked at him with annoyance.

“You know what I was doing.”

“Yes,” he smirked, “I want to hear you describe it.”

“I was masturbating.”

“How were you masturbating?” he pushed.

“It’s my turn to ask a question now,” you said, using his own tactic against him, “How long will it take to heal? Are you seriously hurt?”

“That was two questions,” he said, stepping towards you, “but I’m feeling generous: I’m not seriously hurt. It’s a flesh wound. It’ll heal nicely.”

You looked at him with concern and he shook his head with a smile.

“Now it’s my turn: what exactly were you thinking about when you were humping that pillow?”

“You,” you mumbled, “I missed you.”

“What exactly? You didn’t answer properly.”

You feel your face flush.

“I was thinking about fucking you. On top. Riding you.”

Five’s smirk grew, biting his lip and raising his eyebrows suggestively. You hurried on.

“Is the family okay?”

“All present and correct.” he said, moving even closer to you and stroking your hip in gentle circles.

It was a long, long month without you. There was barely time to think, let alone have the privacy for any ‘self care’ sessions of his own. Now that it was all over, his dick was complaining rather vocally about this neglect; insisting that if it didn’t get inside something warm and tight within the next five minutes, it would be most seriously displeased with the rest of him.

As if to punctuate the point, it was now requisitioning rather a lot of blood from his brain, leaving him rock hard and almost lightheaded with the rush.

“You’re so horny for me, aren’t you? Humping your pillow like a dirty little girl?”

“Was that a question?”

“Yes.”

You sighed as his hand snaked around to your ass. He stroked one of your buttocks up and down slowly, palm cupping the curve of your skin.

“Then yes: I’m horny for you.”

“How horny?” he said, immediately, squeezing you gently.

“Did you save the world?”

“Are you wet for me?” he said, huskily.

The fingertips of his other hand came to rest on your thigh. His eyes, dark in the low light of the bedroom, captured yours and held them firmly, authoritatively.

“If you’re not going to answer my question, I’ll have to find out for myself.”

You looked back at him and his lips twitched. Slowly, he walked his middle and index fingers between your legs and parted your labia. He let out a low ‘oh’ as he felt the sopping folds waiting for him.

A jolt twitched down the boner now pressing insistently against the crotch of his pants.

“How about you ditch the pillow and have a piece of the real thing?”

His fingers slipped slickly up and down your slit and you nodded, trying not to let your knees go weak. Your hands came to the hem of your shirt, pulled it over your head and discarded it so that you were standing naked before him.

As your breasts bounced free, his befuddled mind could only think how much he’d missed them. He bent forward eagerly to try and take a nipple into his mouth, but froze mid-stoop with a wince and harsh intake of breath.

“Ow. Shit.”

He straightened up slowly, stiffly and leaned against the door, experimentally stretching out his limbs.

“You okay?” you said, worried.

“I’m fine.” he muttered, hand over his injury, “Got a bad case of hornybrain. Made me forget I was impaled by a steel bar for a hot second there.”

You winced in sympathy and rubbed his clothed stomach in circles. When the pain had abated and he was again looking at you with lust behind his eyes, you leaned in and whispered to him.

“Looks like you’re going to have to stay still and let me do all the work.”

His lips parted but no words came out, for once unable to think of anything cocky to say. You could see the glisten of saliva on his tongue. You smirked and lowered yourself so that you were kneeling in front of him.

He laid his head against the door and exhaled as you deftly freed him of his pants and let them fall to his ankles. He squeezed his eyes closed, thoroughly undone by the mere suggestion of being sucked. He was even hornier than he realized.

He groaned in a strange mix of satisfaction and need as you licked him through his underwear, using one hand to pull the fabric taught around the thick five and a half inches imprinted there in harsh relief. The stretch and your saliva made the white material semi transparent and you felt a pleasant twist in your stomach as the hint of soft, flushed skin beneath. You lost yourself, aware of nothing but the perfect outline of his glans beneath your tongue and the heady, pheromonal smell of him.

He made another tight, needy sound as you put your lips around his still-clothed head.

“Please.”

How could you refuse him? Pulling at the elastic and reaching in, you pulled him out to twitch in the open air. It looked painfully hard, as always curving slightly to your left but otherwise sticking straight out like an exclamation point to his arousal.

Slowly, still inhaling that intoxicating scent, you took him into your mouth, slowly sucking him. You hummed appreciatively at his solid, hot skin between your lips. You were in heaven there, happy to keep sucking him as long as he’d let you.

“You don’t know how much I need this,” he said, weakly, knees buckling as you built to a steady rhythm. You paid close attention to his head, enjoying the little pop it made as it left the tight seal of your lips.

He looked down at you with hazy eyes, watching the way your lips pouted as you slid your lips up his length. When you caught his eyes, the pupils suddenly widened and he immediately looked away, head snapping straight back to look up at the ceiling.

“I can’t look at you right now,” he breathed, by way of explanation, “You’re too perfect; I’ll come too fast.”

You flushed, glowing with his praise. Though Five was a loving partner, his compliments were usually hidden beneath layers of self-consciousness and sarcasm. Him saying this now was evidence of how overwhelmed he was: inhibitions swept away in the rush of reunion.

Slowly, you withdrew and laid your head against his stomach so that his cock rested on your cheek. You looked up at him adoringly, simultaneously enjoying the intensity of his arousal and giving him time to calm down.

“I love you Five.”

“I love you too, baby.” he said, voice breathy and hoarse, “Now, please god, take me to bed and treat me like that pillow.”

You smiled, rose to your feet and led him to the bed, helping him out of the pants around his ankles. Standing by his side of the bed, you kissed his lips gently, enjoying the way his dick stabbed and pressed periodically at your thighs. When you broke apart, you looked into his eyes, at his soft look with his thick eyelashes shading his eyes.

Aware of his injury, you supported him as he lay down, helping him to ease onto the mattress with the bare minimum of pain. His solid presence in your arms as he let you assist him was bliss.

Though you were being careful not to place any weight where it would hurt him, he pulled you into his arms.

“Please,” he whispered, “I want you to fuck me. Ride me. Just use me to get off. Use me like a goddamn dildo. I don’t care. I need you.”

You smirked at this.

“Who are you and what have you done with Five?”

“Please.”

More begging. You didn’t have it in you to tease him, not when you too were desperate to feel his body against yours, to feel him inside you, to mingle your sighs and your pleasure with his.

You slipped him inside you and gasped. The resumption of this perfect coupling alone told you just how much you needed it. You knew you missed it, but now he was inside you again, you realized that it made you whole. His small keen as he slid home was enough to send a fluttering shudder from your center outwards.

“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, leaning close to him.

He nodded, biting his lower lip and caressing your hips.

Slowly, you began to grind against him, rolling your hips with him inside you, moving on top of him just as you did the pillow. This time, it really was Five beneath you, his cock twitching inside you, hitting and charging that sweet spot inside you until it felt like you were buzzing with his electricity.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, “Five!”

“I-don’t-deserve you,” he panted, “So perfect. Perfect. Beautiful girl…so goddamn sexy. I love you. I-fucking- Ah!”

He always got more talkative yet less coherent the closer he got. He was watching your swinging breasts, hanging a few inches above his face. You leaned forwards immediately, keen to give him what he couldn’t take for himself a few minutes before.

He took the hint eagerly, taking your nipple into his mouth and groaning along with you at the change of angle. He suckled enthusiastically, hungrily; hand leaving your hip to rub your breast with his palm.

His groans now sent miniature, warm vibrations onto your nipple, creating a new center for charge to build upon. As it crackled down your limbs, stoking the heat in your stomach and groin, you moaned, wanting to ride him hard- ride him like a bike - but you were reluctant to let loose in case you hurt him.

Instead, you rolled your hips upon him desperately. Judging by the sudden shout from him and the ache from your pussy, this motion was to both of your liking. You were on the edge now, teetering.

“Gonna come. Gonna come.” he whispered, urgently, removing his mouth from your titty with a wet sound.

He meant this to warn you but, instead, his desperate voice gave you the final push.

As you came, your pussy clenched, squeezing him suddenly. His eyes shot open and he all-but squealed at the unexpected stimulation. His hips surged upwards, the pain from his chest eclipsed for the moment by this maddening, raging orgasm. It felt like your pussy was milking it from him, pulling his rapid shots of come up into itself.

At last, you came to a stop.

“Is the world safe?” you asked, after a warm breathless minute or two.

“Yes,” he said weakly, “the world’s all okay.”

You carefully climbed off him, laid beside him and held him. There was the fresh smell of his shampoo and antiperspirant. The smell of home if ever there was one. After a minute or two becoming heavier in your arms, he spoke again.

“Well, the world’s certainly all okay now.”

He stroked your stomach as if you were made of paper-thin glass, inclining his head towards yours as he spoke again.

"I meant what I said: you are perfect, you know."

Request masterlist >> HERE

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you

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absolutepokemontrash · 1 year

Text

The Types of Obey Me Character Fans:

(All of you are valid, and I am equally afraid of all of you)

Lucifer

“Look at this tragic, broken, man, I am either going to fix him or irreversibly damage him, I haven’t decided yet.”

OH YOU FUCKING KNOW THE OTHER TYPE.

“You are my daaaaaad! You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!”

Mammon

This man is innocent. He has done nothing wrong ever. I love him. I will pet him gently for 88 minutes straight. That is my husband. That is my sweet blorbo.

This man is guilty of all crimes and I will be persecuting him to the fullest extent of the angst laws.

Haha funny greed boy hangs from the ceiling :3

Leviathan

I will be this man’s discord kitten. I want to sit on his lap while he plays God of War and does a bad impression of Kratos. I will let him infodump to me until the inevitable heat death of the universe because I love him so much.

WHEN ARE WE GONNA SEE LEVI IN HIS UNIFORM-

I’m forcibly shoving him outside to touch some grass out of love for him.

Satan

My husband is done so dirty by the writing, I will write essay after essay dissecting and explaining his character to a cold, uncaring internet, but that’s okay because my love for him will keep this fire burning-

Heehoo angry catboy nerd annoys Lucifer, and I love him

Satan please lose your shit and go feral, it’s sexy.

Asmodeus

That is my wife, my boyfriend, my side bitch, my everything. I want to be him. I love him. He’s done so dirty by the writing of the game and by a good chunk of the fanbase, I will love and cherish him as he deserves and destroy all his insecurities… or write a depressing amount of angst for him.

What a fine young man.

I would love to see him covered in the blood of his enemies.

He may not be my favourite but BOY HOWDY IS HE IN THE TOP THREE AND I WONT SHUT UP ABOUT IT.

Beelzebub

I love him deeply but how in the ever loving FUCK do I write for him-

Food himbo who’s pure and innocent and has never done anything wrong in his life-

THIS MAN HAS MADE NUMEROUS COMMENTS ABOUT EATING MC BUT I DONT CARE BECAUSE LOOK AT THAT PRECIOUS FACE-

Belphegor

Ugh, look at him. Disgusting. He has not bathed in seven years. I’m going to spray him with the hose.

I am single handedly the kinkiest fuck in this fandom. The horny Lucifer stans WISH they were as depraved as me.

I love him so much and I will cherish him above all things.

————————-

Tag yourself, I’m every kind of Mammon fan and 1 and 2 of Asmo’s fans.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me crack #obey me shitpost

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phr0gg13 · 3 months

Text

Do Not Wait.

Luke Castellan x Reader

Synopsis: You and Luke have always been close, and so when the guy you trust most in the world decide to backstab the people you call family, you are torn in two. Warnings: Spoilers for the series! Angst, I dont think pronouns were used for the reader! (Please let me know if they were!) this story could be read as platonic or romantic feelings, I was inspired by the song Do Not wait by the Wallows!

It was a cold night when Luke came to see you, almost as if the gods knew what was in store. He had came up to you at dinner and asked to speak in private. You followed him to a secluded spot in the woods of Camp Half-Blood, there was an opening that showed the sun setting. It was like a painting, almost as if Apollo had painstakingly taken the time to think about each stroke of sunlight and how it would hit just right on Lukes face. How the clouds would form to be the most beautiful colors and how it would feel like a movie scene. Your heart was racing as you looked around. It was so pretty here, you and Luke were secluded and you wondered what he wanted to tell you. You were nervous and also excited to hear what the Hermes boy had to say.

"Please don't think I'm crazy when I ask you this (Y/N)...." His hands found your cheeks and he caressed them gently. Almost as if you were made of porcelain. Your heart was racing, thinking of every possible thing he could want to ask you. "Luke, I wont think you are crazy.... What's up?" You replied sweetly. Luke felt a small twinge of regret hit him, but he was already to far gone with his plan.

"Come leave camp with me." The words were like a slap in the face. You let out a small breath of air, the same way you would when someone says a terrible joke. "You're joking right? Why would we leave camp?" You were confused, it didnt make sense. Luke was happy at camp, he had you and Annabeth. He had all his siblings. Why would he want to leave? "Because, (Y/N)," his grip on your face got tighter, it was like he was afraid you would leave, "The gods... They don't care about us. They never have and they never will.".

"Thats why you want to leave camp? Because the gods are selfish and act like gods?" You were in disbelief, "Luke where would we even go? What would we do?". He sighed and looked deep into your eyes "There are people who want to take the gods down, who can provide us with the means to show the gods not to forget us. We can finally speak out against them, do something to stop their childish ways!.". You shook your head, "Who...?"

"Kronos has been visiting me in my dreams, he wants to build an army to fight against the gods. He wants me to help." Luke smiled at you when he said that. It made you sick, you took his hands off your face and looked at him with a hurt expression. "Luke, you can't be serious? We need to tell Chiron and Mr.D about this! If Kronos wants a war... Who knows who else will follow him? How many titans will rise up against the gods? It could be catastrophic, Luke. World ending!!".

Luke shook his head, "We can't tell Chiron, we can't tell anyone. Not yet, Kronos isn't strong enough to fight." You shook your head and looked away, why was this happening. You noticed the sun was almost set, everything was dark and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. "What about Annabeth?" Your voice broke as tears threatened to leave your eyes. "What about your siblings, your friends?!". Luke sighed, this wasn't how he had planned it going, "They will understand once we tell them. Once we show how strong the army is!." Luke kept going on about how everyone would join him and Kronos. He just kept talking, trying to make you join him. "Luke!".

You looked at him as your tears flowed down your face. "I am not joining you. I can't, this place is my home! These people are my family! I don't care about the gods, I don't need anything from them. I am happy and content with staying at camp.". Lukes expression dropped, it switched from heartbroken to numb in seconds flat. "Fine... But you can't tell anyone my plan. Not yet...". You turned your head and rolled your eyes, about to object to his demand. Yet he had pulled out a sword from a nearby bush, he had planned it all out. Your reflexes kicked in immediately. Quickly you pulled off your bracelet that turned into your sword. A gift from your godly parent. Ready to fight against Luke.

The two of you often trained together and so you both knew how the other fought. Though Luke was still faster and stronger. He also studied your flaws when fighting, he knew how to abuse them. This resulted in him tripping you on the ground. Your sword fell out of your hand and you tried to crawl to grab it, but Luke stepped on your wrist. You cried out in pain, "I'm so sorry (Y/N), but you made me do this..". Luke raised his sword, and for a moment you thought he was going to hit you with his blade. You thought your best friend was going to kill you, yet he maneuvered his sword to where the hilt was pointed at you. He landed a blow to your head and you were out cold. Luke set you up on your back and put his jacket he was wearing over you. He cried, but not because of the choice he made. He cried because of the choice you made. He walked off to go find Percy....

You had woke up with an insane headache, you were warm and in a bed instead of on the cold ground of the forest. You looked around weakly and saw Annabeth and Grover sitting in chairs nearby. You were in the infirmary. You noticed that they were talking to someone else, another person in a bed. One of the campers who was working in the infirmary noticed you were up. They quickly got you some water and asked how you were feeling. You told them about your head and they nodded. You had a concusion... Eventually Chiron and Mr.D came into the infirmary. They started to ask you questions of what happened to you. You told them all you remember and they both looked at eachother. Chiron shook his head, he had a remorseful look on his face.

"Chiron, where is Luke?" You asked as you noticed his jacket on a nearby chair.

"Luke is missing. We assume he is now working with Kronos..."

Your already broken heart was crushed as you heard those words. You are left wondering how long your best friend had truly been gone for.

#percy jackson #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #angst #fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo tv show

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heartsoji · 11 months

Text

CAN I HAVE A KISS?

synopsis: in which you see him off

starring nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, itoshi sae

warning! chigiri's is a little steamy? but its pretty chill

inspired by the song "see you again"

N. SEISHIRO

"uuugh" nagi groaned into your chest as reo rolled his eyes in the background. "dont wanna go.."

you chuckled fondly as you ruffled his fluffy hair. "it'll be over before you know it."

"noooooo" he whined, shoving his tall frame onto your smaller one. "i dont wanna go! i wanna just stay here with youuuu"

"sei! you're crushing me!"

"dont care."

"..reo! help!"

reo sighed as he plucked nagi off of you. "come on, nagi. we've gotta go."

he groaned. "but its so much of a hassle.."

"too bad. say your last words."

he sighed and mumbled something under his breath before turning his attention back to you.

"can i get a kiss?"

"hm?"

"and can you make it last forever?" he puppy eye-d you.

"im about to go to WAR"

"boy."

"and i dont know if im gonna see you again.."

"NAGI! stop being so dramatic! we're leaving soon. hurry it up."

nagi whined, but then turned his attention back to you. "so.. kiss?"

you planted a sweet kiss to his lips as reo cringed in the background. "it'll be over before you know it. i love you, ok?"

nagi nodded and engulfed you in a huge hug. "i love you too."

"ok, loverboy, thats enough. lets go."

"just a few more minutes.."

"WE'RE LEAVING"

C. HYOMA

it had been awkward between you and hyoma lately.

his whole injury thing had taken a toll on not only his mental health and soccer career, but also your relationship.

still, you wanted to see him off nonetheless.

"be safe," you said awkwardly. "hope its fun."

he chuckled stiffly. "thanks."

there was a long pause where neither of you said anything. the air was tense, and you hated it.

"well," you said, "i'll see you when its over, then."

panic flooded his senses as you began to leave. "wait." he said, grabbing your wrist.

when you turned around to look at him, he averted his gaze. "can i have a kiss?"

your eyes widened in surprise.

"..what?"

you hadn't had any form of real communication since he got injured, and now he's suddenly asking for a kiss?

he let go of you. "uh.. sorry. you dont have to if you dont wa-"

you cut him off with a deep kiss, wanting to taste his lips. his eyes widened a little before returning it, hands in your hair.

when you released for air, you whispered, "i'll make it last forever," before going in for a second round.

after you both pulled away, breathless, chigiri smiled and gazed at you gently, caressing a lock of your hair, trying to remain composed, but his red face giving his real mental state away. "well, sounds like this blue lock thing's gonna be like a war. i dont know how long it'll be until i see you again."

you chuckled fondly. "i'll wait for you, hyoma."

his pretty smile caught the attention of passerby. (um mr. no-pda what r u doing but wtv) "ok. thanks."

he turned around to go, but it was you who grabbed his wrist this time.

"i love you, hyoma."

his gaze softened. "i love you too."

I. SAE

"so you're really leaving for spain, sae?" you mumbled, though you already knew the answer. when you got no response, you sighed and pulled him in for a hug. "i'm gonna miss you."

he hugged you back and squeezed you tight. "me too."

"don't forget about me in spain, ok?"

"ok."

"make sure to call me, ok?"

"ok."

"dont forget! ever week, or every day if possible! ok?"

"ok."

you sighed. "i love you, sae."

to the untrained eye, sae's expression remained the same. the same cold, harsh one that could pierce through walls. but to someone experienced like you, you saw how his expression softened ever so slightly. "i love you too."

lip beginning to quiver, you asked, "can i get a kiss?"

he hesitated, as he was in public, but quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

you smiled. "and can you make it last forever? you're about to go to war, y'know."

he rolled his eyes at the dramatic phrasing but gave you a slower, deeper kiss to the lips regardless.

"and i dont know if im gonna see you again!"

he gently pressed a fist to your head jokingly, letting out an 'idiot.' however, although the phrasing wasn't entirely true, he knew exactly what you meant and how you felt. (this guy? mr. no-feelings? ok.) he was sure that he'd see you again at some point, but he had no idea how long that would be. he really wanted to be with you, but he also wanted to pursue his dream, which was nearly within his grasp, and spain was the only place he could do that right now.

you began to tear up. "im really gonna miss you."

"i know. me too."

you were never very good at goodbyes. you didnt even take leaving his house well. but realizing that suddenly, your boyfriend was going to be in a whole different country with a whole different language and a whole different time zone without you, hit you harder than you could've ever expected. it filled you with an indescribable emotion of sadness, fear, emptiness, and more. you didnt want to, as you wanted to stay strong for sae, but you began to cry. tears streamed down your face as your buried your head in his chest, sobbing like a child.

as you cried, your tears on his sweatshirt, you began to wonder if maybe you were annoying sae. maybe he just wanted to leave and get this over with, but you were holding him back and he was just being nice by not turning his back and leaving. however, the way he held you back and pressed a small kiss to your head as he kept you firmly in his grasp told you that although he didnt express it like you did, he, too, was feeling an indescribable feeling. it told you that even though it would be hard, it would work out.

you sighed, laughing slightly, and pulled away from the hug. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you some other time, then."

"i guess so," he answered.

"bye, sae."

"bye, y/n."

you cried on the way home, once you got home, and the days that followed. you felt so lonely now that he was gone, but the daily 'goodmorning,' 'how are you,' and 'goodnight' texts helped you through it. your personal favorite, however, was the daily 'i love you' text.

(spoiler alert: his favorite was the 'i love you too' text)

heartsoji 𑁍 please do not steal, plagiarize, or repost onto any platform. thank you!

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minicoffee00 · 6 months

Text

Fast Changes Part 6 - Azriel x Reader

Plot: You are Feyre’s younger twin and get sent into the Cauldron with your sisters coming out as high fae. What happens on this journey

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4🌶️ Part 5 🌶️🌶️

Warnings: Angst

After the night you and Azriel had you'd spent together, it continued for another three weeks, you were together in the Frenzy. Rhys and Cassian had said it was the longest they'd ever seen mates be in the frenzy.

They put it down to Azriel being Azriel and that it was both the absolute obbession he had with you and the bond, mixed with his overprotectivness that he had always had.

When you emerged after those three weeks and gone to the dining room everything had changed. Elain even though as awkward as ever, she was sat with Lucien, seemed to be giving the male a chance.

It seemed that he had managed to use the bond to coax her out of her silence more, she seemed distant still but she spoke and it made a grin appear on Y/N's face.

Nesta just seemed constantly angry at the world, and with the upcoming war that the group had been preparing for it seemed fitting despite her lack of battle knowledge.

"I want to train. And i want to help" she'd said quietly to her family at the dinner table, everyone stopped eating at this, even the clanking of Elain's fork was heard.

"No" Azriel says before going back to eating his food, everyone tensing at his cold tone that wasn't uncommon but shokcing that it was directed towards his mate.

"What do you mean no? I wish to get stronger" she argues, looking back towards Azriel who was in the seat next to her.

"You will do neither of those things, and you will listen to me. As your mate" he says gruffly.

Since the bond had been accepted she'd gotten stronger with her borderline empathic abilities. None of them really knew what she could do or how they worked.

Azriel had heard Feyre talking to Rhys, saying how even when she was human Y/N had always been very deep with her emotions, she wore them on her face clearly. Unlike Nesta who just always looked angry even if she wasn't and unlike Elain who wouldn't tell a soul she was upset. She also struggled to control these emotions more so when she was younger, and she when riled up tended to be volatile.

So Feyre tensing had Rhys' standing up out of his chair walking round closer to Azriel's side.

"So now that I'm your mate, i have to obey everything you say?" she asks, clutching the side of her chair.

"N-no that isn't what i meant?" he stutters realising how that had come out.

"Well it clearly is. Why cant i train. I want to be able to help. I want to be a part of this. I want to make Hybern pay for everything that he did to me" the room had this pulsing force around it.

"Because..." he starts but he cant say everything that is possibly on his mind right now. He loved her and waited for her for over 500 years, it was something he needed to protect and to keep safe.

"Well?"

"I need to keep you safe" is all he simply said.

"I - surley you teaching me how to protect both myself and others will keep me safer in the long run" she argues back.

"I know what you are like, you'd run head first into danger if it was to protect us" he grits out.

"You dont know anything" she grits out. This angers Azriel immensely, he'd spent ages getting to know every little thing about you.

"I know nothing? So i don't know that whenever you get scared, you stop breathing until you know you arent in danger or until you feel safe, and that just so happens to be whenever i was around. I don't know that you still get nightmares everynight and i have to hold you until you stop crying, I don't know that when you get excited you make a little breathy noise to show you gratitute. I don't know that when you get tired my shadows always come find me, telling me your asking for me. No i clearly know nothing" he spits out, and he immedietley regrets it seeing the look on her face.

"Y/N" Rhys says feeling her powers get stronger.

"Azriel please" she begs one final time.

"My answers final, I wont train you, and you wont participate in any battle that i'm a part off" he grits out.

"Is that a promise or a threat?"

"It's me asking nicely!" he grunts out.

"Fuck you Azriel" she mutters, getting up from her chair, Rhys reaches out for her but a burst of energy from her kocks him back. Everyone in the room was now no longer watching this interation placidly.

No-one in the room realized it but she'd been slowly feeding off the various emotions that were present and she'd managed to redispurse it in the form of pure energy.

Y/N had gone all the way to their room, tears in her eyes and a single shadow following her along the way. She'd tried multiple times to just bat it away and force it to go back to its master. But it seemed defiant of both his master calling him back and his masters mate not wanting him around.

She cried, cried for hours. Then she started to pack a bag, she quietly crept out of her room, she was going to ask Amren if she could stay with her and see if she could sneak to the Illyrian camps and ask someone to train her or see if Cassian was willing to go against his brother.

"Where do you think you're off too" a voice asks behind her, her head whirls round and she sees Rhys stood behind her arms crossed.

"I'm sorry for earlier Rhys, but i cannot be here tonight. I'm going to Amren" she admits.

"Ill have Cassain fly you there" he sighs rubbing his temple.

"Excellent" she smiles already forming a plan in her head.

Cassian came out moments later a sad look on his face, as if he wanted to say something but between him and Rhysand who seemed to be mentally scolding him, he chose to remain silent.

“Come let’s go” Cassian smiles taking her hand and helping her out into the balcony.

“Az is going to be so very annoyed at me for this” he laughs lightly knowing his brother would not be a fan of him touching his mate let alone taking her to some unknown location.

“Cassian, I have a favour to ask you” she breathes out, just as he launches of the balcony making her grip on to him tighter, the wind strong and flapping through her untied hair.

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this?” He says looking down at her, they were safe now that they were flying high over Velaris, avoiding any of the trees or buildings by miles.

“I want you to train me”

“WHAT? Are you mad, AZ will have my head” he admits dropping them a little lower as they were nearing Amrens apartment.

“Amrens been so helpful when it comes to my abilities and learning how to use them and what they actually are, but Azriel won’t always be able to be there for me, and I need to know how to protect myself for when he isn’t. No matter how much he doesn’t like it” she admits, it was true. Azriel being spymaster put a large bounty on Y/N’s head.

“I’ll do it, but Azriel does not find out. We do it my way and you listen to everything I say” he bargains making her laugh.

“That’s more than I expected, I’ll take it!”

“I’ll come here tomorrow and take you to a place I know Azriel won’t be able to find us, he doesn’t dare go back” he smiles.

He drops her off Amren reaching her arms out and gesturing the girl in.

“Come girl, we have much to work with”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Cas?”

“Tomorrow”

A/N:

God guys, I should have done this in second person because my god writing x reader is so hard in the first or third person. I think this series will be coming to a close soon and I’ll be moving onto a new one that will be easier too write!

I had a thought of Azriel pining after Mor, then Elain, then Gwyn and him being rejected by all of them and having reader known they were mates for a very long time but chose not to say anything (similar to Rhys with Feyre) lots of Angst.

Another series idea being that reader comes along mid him simping for Elain and he refuses to acknowledge the very obvious mate bond and is constantly hurting the reader. Her and Lucien get close …

Lots more to come!

Many more imagines or one shots too! I have reading week from university soon too, so of course I can write lots more!

I’ve also been planing where I missed Kinktober (I was so sad) that instead I’d do like an advent calendar for Christmas!

Taglist:

@cat-or-kitten

@sstrohma

@horneybeach1

@its-sam-allgood

@starryhiraeth

@xcastawayherosx

@glitterypirateduck

@azriels-mate123

@mavropouloupanagiota

@chasing-autumns-chill

#acotar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #acowar #a court of mist and fury #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #acosf #azriel shadowsinger

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theosmommy1966 · 14 days

Text

Idrk where this came from.. it was just a thought and then three hours later.. here it is i guess. Snape in my head in this is Adam Driver. So yeah. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your ears were ringing, not for the first time you were thankful to always have your own locker room. Being the only woman on a college hockey team came with a list of problems, so you were happy to have one less. The guys would just come pound on the door and be obnoxious as shit to let you know they were ready. Normally you would roll your eyes and laugh while joining them, today Pansy was pushing past Daph and Hermione to get to the door.

Theodore being the tallest without skates on could easily see you quickly trying to braid your hair, only to start crying again as Hermione took over quickly. War was raging in him as he elbowed Mattheo who then felt the same way. They both wanted into the locker room. Both angry at whoever or whatever it is that has made you cry, but both also want to wipe your tears and comfort you.

Pansy pulled the door shut and sighed, “Just.. I dont know.. I cant really tell you. But just take it easy on her, if shes struggling dont be dicks about it.. I dont know. This is kinda fucked.” Just as Draco went to ask what was wrong, the door flew open and you walked out gear ready besides your helmet needing clipped and you were chewing on your mouthpiece in anger. Your cheeks and eyes were red but you no longer looked sad. In the two minutes between the door opening and closing you had switched into anger.

Anger the guys could work with. If you were mad, they could channel mad. Coach Sev could tell when your skates first hit the ice that it would be a rough game. It always amazed him how the mood of one player could set the mood for an entire team. True hockey fans could tell by the way someone skated where their mental state was. The way the team's blades sliced through the ice gave their fans goosebumps. Warm ups started as the other team hit the ice as well. Mattheo watched as your eyes followed their players, in one way he wasn't surprised. Your boyfriend was on the other team, went to a different college. What did surprise him was the way you watched for him. With a cold calculation in your eyes as you spun your stick in your hands, still chewing on your mouth guard. He needed to make sure you actually kept it in your mouth during the game.

He was shocked, because this guy had been a rough patch in your friendship. Mattheo and Theodore hated the guy, the way he put you down but in a subtle way that you never seemed to catch. Saying how you were a good hockey player.. For a girl.. Theo was quieter in his annoyance, where Matt was not. Quiet was not a verb used to describe him.. Ever. It had caused dirty looks and small arguments, but he would never let anything come in between you. Even if it meant biting his cheek until it bled, or simply not being around when you were with him.

As Captain he stood back watching everyone warm up, doing his own rounds while everyone stretches. Theo, his boyfriend and co captain glided up next to him looking towards you as well. They both silently watched as you and your boyfriend, Jacob, skated up to each other. They couldn't hear what was said but they could see his face. A smug smile, the kind you would give your girl right before you tell her how your teams gonna beat hers. It stayed for a few seconds, then it faltered, then it fell. “God I wish I knew what she said.” Mattheo said watching you skate backwards into line for warm ups.

Your anger hadnt lessened at all when your eyes found Jake. Pansy had crashed in just as you were finishing up your laces, anger clear on her face before it fell into sadness. Without saying anything she shoved her phone into your hand. Your ears started ringing after the second video. The first one was Jake making out with some girl, the second was him telling his teammates how you were as shitty in bed as you were on the ice. That he was ready to be done because he wasn't getting any game changing secrets out of you anyways.

There were a few more after that.. And pictures.. So many fucking pictures. Your heart broke so fast and so hard. The guys had been worried about this, how many times had Draco told you how stupid you were. Theo and Mattheo telling you that they just don't see why he would all of a sudden be interested in you just because of hockey. They swore you had a million better reasons to be interesting and he wasn't interested in any of them. Matt had told you that he talked shit about you, that he was constantly degrading. Blaise tried to be supportive, he wasn't rude to your face. But you knew he agreed. Enzo was the only one of your little group that told you he just wanted you to be happy.

Just as quickly though you got mad. Mad didnt even cover it really, your skin was crawling. You thought people saying their blood was boiling was just an expression, but you could feel it. You wanted to claw at yourself to release some of this pressure. You were sweating and you knew if Hermione redid your braid one more time that you would snap at her and that wasn't fair. The chilly air hit your lungs and you drew in every bit you could. This was your happy place, where you had thrived since childhood. Sure your mom wishes you would have done figure skating, but your dad was thrilled. He never missed an opportunity to tell people about his daughter who plays hockey.

For Jacob to insult your skills on the ice in any way was a joke. There was never a year from mites all the way to now in college where his stats were better than yours. He was just jealous, and now he would see the real hockey player in you. When his eyes connected with yours from his tunnel he smiled at you in a way that twenty minutes ago probably would have made you melt. Now all you see is condescension. It took everything for you to not just blurt it out. You let him flirt for a minute, tell you how he would make you feel better when you lost.

Gag.

You could feel the guys eyes on you, you knew it was time to get back. So you leaned in with a smile on your face like you were going in for a quick kiss. Just before his lips could touch yours you pulled back just a little. “Something crazy to think about.. Babe… By the end of this game.. the whole team will know you cheated on me… not only my team.. which is bad enough.” You chuckled as you pulled back enough to see his pale cheeks. “But imagine, Harry.. Ron.. Fred.. George.. Oliver.. They all love me too..” Somehow it was like Neville the sound man just knew what to play, because as soon as you pushed off to skate back to your team ‘...Ready for it. By Taylor Swift’ came on and you smiled meanly. “Good Luck.”

You ignored your two best friends as you lined up, you ignored them again when you were waiting your turn and sent a hard puck right into the back of your soon to be exs knee. Snape hollered your name from the bench and gave you that look you hated. The guy wasnt even 10 years older than you, but he carried the authority and knowledge of an old man so whatever. Then it was time to line up, one of the guys had been hurt so you ended up in a defensemen position instead of forward where you normally were. Being one of the faster skaters and having great stick handling skills showed that was your niche. But you were tall for a girl. Standing at 5`11 without skates with a broad build that was strong but still soft in areas like the thighs so you were an ok fill in.

Mattheo was the other first string defensemen, Draco was center, Theo and Enzo on either wing. Jacob was a first string forward, it couldn't have worked out better. You'd have to get Goyle some candy when he felt better. You were surprised at how well you were playing and keeping track of where your real target was. Mattheo kept trying to set up to be the one who would have to go after him, but you kept getting in his way.

Everyone besides the girls gasped in surprise and shock when Jacob started to skate down the ice with the puck only to be roughly checked into the glass by you. Regulus, your kinda uncle, who was a few years older than you, was one of the refs. He came over to escort you to the penalty box when you whispered a quick low down on what he had done. Reggie nodded then winked when he closed the door to the penalty box. Just a moment later, Reggies friend Barty, the other ref knocked on the glass and winked.

They both knew you were getting ejected from the game. That you were coming out of the box swinging. You had started to calm down just a tad bit. The cold air and the physical exertion are starting to help. That is until you hear a high pitched voice scream Jacob's name. When you turn your eyes lock with one of the girls from the videos. The girl from last night at his house party. The one you didn't go to for obvious reasons. When she did her little finger wave and smirked everything went fuzzy.

The outsides of your vision was blurry as your eyes watched the clock and the ice. You just prayed Jacob was out when your time was up. Your ears were ringing as Jacob was called off the bench, 3 seconds left. The attendant, an older gentleman who worked with the athletics department chuckled as he prepped to open the door. He had seen this many times, sure never from this perspective, but he had daughters and he knew how they would react.

“Go get him a tiger.”

You didn't even know where the puck was when your blade cut through the first slice of ice. You knew Mattheo was on the bench and Theodore was on the other side of the ice. Maybe ten strong strides across the arena. 6 before you dropped your stick. 3 before your gloves are off. 1 before your fist connected with his jaw. As you grabbed his jersey and used what every bit of strength you had to slam him back into the glass. In his shock he didn't realize that he was falling and you were swinging again.

In another moment of perfect coincidence, you're right in front of your family's seats. Theodore Sr, Lucius, and your father are all standing up and cheering while banging their fists on the glass. Your mother has her mouth covered with her hands while Bellatrix and Cissy stand on their seats leaning to hold onto shoulders and watch. You hear someone come up behind you, you know its not a ref but they never even get the chance to grab at you. Theos flies past you and slams someone from the other team into the ice.

Now you can hear Snape screaming curse words at you all as the bench clears. Reggie and Barty are both standing off to the side, eyes wide in pretend shock as they pretend to decide who's going where. Your mind momentarily slips away from beating Jacobs face in, but it snaps back into perfect clarity when his glove connects with the bottom of your jaw. You lose your grip in shock, which in some way is stupid. When you fall backwards and your helmet connects with the ice, the stadium falls silent. This had been the moment the entire college hockey league had been waiting for. How would it be handled, because while you were a woman, you had joined the team, and started the fight.

In the silence, from the other team's bench, you hear Coach Black's voice. “KICK HIS ASS L/N!” More gasps followed as Neville changed the big screens to a video of Jacob saying you were a shitty player. Jacob tried to scramble up as half of his own teams heads snapped to him. Needless he knew now that he wasnt leaving the ice without getting his ass beat at least once more. Looking up towards the reporters box you could see Ginny and Neville leaning out and cheering for you.

Alot of people were going to be getting in trouble after this game, but it didnt seem like anyone cared. It was a perfect moment of unity and unsportsmanlike conduct as people took their turns with Jacob before Regulus and Barty decided they would lose their jobs if they let it go any longer. While both teams skated off the guys all cheered for you and gave you pats on your back. Theo and Matt walked you to your locker room, you could tell they both wanted to say something.

Matt looked like he was constipated, the look he only got when he was trying to figure out how to talk about his feelings. He wanted to tell you to stop looking for someone who would love you more than him and Theo did. That there would never be two people who cared more, or knew you better than they did. That they knew it was unconventional and that people would talk, but they wanted to be with you. They couldn't go without you anymore.

Just as you whisper his name his brain short circuits and when it starts working again his lips are already on yours. His hands holding your cheeks as he memorizes how your lips feel just in case he never gets to do this again. When he pulls back he almost doesn't want to open his eyes, scared of what he will see. But all he sees is awe and confusion as you look from him to your other best friend.. His boyfriend.. Who you now think he just cheated on, right in front of..

Shit.

#theodore nott #slytherin #theodore nott x reader #theo nott xreader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo x reader x theodore #harry potter au #slytherinboys

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h4rring1on · 2 years

Note

reader and eddie play fighting and reader snatches his bandana and runs as fast as reader can but eddie is too fast even if he just walks and reader bumps into something and passes out then eddie takes care of them

i made a mix of this and

this bc they’re basically the same idea anyways enjoy!

warnings: reader passes out lmfao, swearing nothing else but please tell me if there’s something i missed!

quick a/n: i couldn’t really think of anything that reader bumps into and faints bc apparently you dont exactly faint when you bump into a wall, so i made another reason, hope thats okay!!

ANOTHER NOTE! IN THIS SITUATION YOURE OK WITH EDDIE TAKING OFF YOUR CLOTHES SINCE YOU TRUST HIM MORE THAN ANYONE!!

ೃ༄*ੈ✩

“eddie! stop” you breathed out, giggling as he kept tickling you, you pushed him away and tried to wrestle him, the two of you kept play fighting as he threw you on the bench in front of his trailer and you quickly got up and got on his back

“keep trying baby, im always the winner” he said and that made you frown, you looked at his head and took your chance, you snatched his bandana and ran away

noticing it in your hand, eddie didn’t bother to even run, since he already knew he could get to you just by walking

you looked behind you to see if he’s chasing you, you stopped in your place, you had been under the hot sun for longer than eddie, and you weren’t feeling very well. it was suddenly getting very hot, you fanned yourself with your hand but it didn’t work, and suddenly, everything went black.

“oh—shit” he muttered as he now ran to you, “god—sweetheart, you okay?” he asked as he kneeled down, he furrowed his eyebrows when he saw your eyes closed

“hello?” he said as he lightly shook you, his eyes growing in concern when you weren’t waking up, he picked you up and got you inside the trailer, putting you in bed, he obviously saw how hot you were getting and knew why you fainted, though he was still very worried, he’d never seen you faint before.

he slid off your clothes, he then started a cold bath and placed you in it, he stroked your hair as he let you soak in the cold water, he was really worried about you. anyone would when you go from smiling and playing around to falling unconscious

he massaged your head as well, you fell on hard ground, there had to be some pain there, your eyes slowly fluttered openly, making eddie breathe in relief

“oh thank god” he said as he held your face, “you went away for a bit there”

“what—what happened?” you asked

“think you were a little too hot” he said, “not talking about weather”

you let out a giggle, “you’re so cocky, eddie”

“i know” he said as he got up and grabbed a towel, “lets get up, yeah?”

you got up and he wrapped the towel around you, once you got to the room you wanted to change but he insisted on doing for you, making sure you rest even though you weren’t really tired.

he dressed you up in his boxers and shorts along with one of his shirts, he then picked you up and put you right in front of the air conditioner

“eddie i swear i can do things on my own, i didnt die, yknow” you grumbled

“can’t risk anything” he said as he sat next to you and made you sip one of his cold beverages, not even letting you sip it with your own hand

once you did, he put it on the table and stroked your hair again, “eddie” you said

“got me all worried didn’t you, pretty girl?” he said with a smile on his face

“maybe” you muttered

“well i have to let you know just because you fainted doesn’t mean you won” he said

“i didn’t have to faint, i already won” you said

“the war isn’t over” he exaggeratedly glared at you

you glared back and before you knew it, you were back to playing around

a/n: i feel like this wasn’t that good :(

#stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader fluff

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mrswarnerxo · 28 days

Text

❪ ★ ❫ nightmares.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: aaron warner x fem!reader.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: aaron has been having nightmares of the war and a special someone dying. good thing you’re there to help your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, pet names, insomnia, mention of death, mention of war, nightmares, cuddling, comfort, paris anderson.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 347

𝐀/𝐍: i edited this because there’s no way im letting THIS stay on my account. dont care if i was half asleep the grammar mistakes in here KILLED ME. also didnt i make the jameson cuddler thing short too? idk man😭😭🙏

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: i’ll add em tonight since i already tagged them today and i dont wanna bother them lmao

you roll around in your bed, feeling nothing but the cold air as your arm reaches out from the blankets. you open your eyes and you don’t see the familiar blond hair of your boyfriend.

you look around and see aaron sitting on the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands.

frowning, you slowly get up. aaron turns his head around and his eyes widen slightly when he sees you. “sorry, angel, did i wake you up?” he asks softly.

you shake your head before crawling towards him. “was it a nightmare again?” you ask. he’d been having nightmares ever since the war ended.

it was understandable, especially for him, because of his father.

it was a routine for you two. aaron has a nightmare, he sits on the edge of the bed, you wake up, ask him if he’s okay, then cuddle him until you two fall asleep.

he nods lightly but doesn’t say anything. you know when he does that, he doesn’t want to talk about it. and so you don’t. instead, you crawl into his lap and lay your head on his shoulder.

“it’s okay,” you whisper, “i’m here.” aaron sighs and brings his hand up to your back, the other one lying comfortably on your thigh.

he leans back slightly, digging his face in your hair. “it was about you,” he finally whispers. “you were gone—you got taken from me and you never came back,” he continues.

you know what he means when he says that. you died. he either has nightmares about his father or you dying. you’re the only thing he cared enough to have nightmares about.

“shh,” you shush him. “i’m here, aaron. i won’t leave you. never.” he sighs and squeezes you, holding you tightly as if he lets go, you’ll vanish.

you’ll never vanish.

“it’s okay. i’m here; and i’m staying, love,” you murmur. he hums, breathing in the scent of your hair. and soon; you two both fell asleep.

sadly, you woke up again when he fell on his back.

#aaron x reader #aaron warner x you #aaron warner fanfic #aaron warner #aaron warner x reader #aaron warner x y/n #aaron warner x fem y/n #short fanfic #i should sleep #i should go to bed #fanfic #books #booktok #bookish #fanfiction #belles fanfictions💋

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only-angel-28 · 8 months

Text

1999, part four - final part!

oh my gosh. final part and what a surprise, she's a long one again💀💀ive loved writing this silly little series so so much and i love all of you very very much🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽please give me requests on what to write next bc my mind is completely blank rn, all i can think of is the cold war and bolsheviks from my history revison and i dont think they would make v good fics🤡🤡

lmk what you think of this part and your fav moments, enjoy!!

warnings: tiny angst, mostly fluff, swearing

1999, part one

1999, part two

1999, part three

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

conrad’s pov

Since Y/n is unable to hold a phone herself, I'm tasked with a lot, but I didn't fully realize the worry of her family until she had me working through each task with her.

No wonder she’s overwhelmed. The number of texts from Laurel, Mom, Belly, Jere and Steven she has to sift through in a given hour would drive anyone insane.

Or maybe I'm just going crazy by sitting this close to her. The smell of her coconut soap is permanently ingrained into my memory as she sits flush against me, pointing at different texts with her uninjured hand.

I can tell her nerves grow stronger as the Uber near the hospital.

Her knees bounce up and down as she dictates message after message I need to send, confusing me more and more with every word.

The work doesn't stop there. After we check in, a nurse hands us a clipboard filled with pages of information that need to be filled out. Y/n stares at it like it might catch on fire at any moment.

"Here." I pass it to her.

Her eyes shift toward the exit. "Will you help me please? I can't write like this." Her voice drops to a barely audible whisper.

"Okay. Tell me your answers and I'll write them down."

Her throat bobs as she scans the first line. It takes her far longer than necessary to read the first question.

"Do you mind reading the questions aloud for me? I'm too stressed to concentrate right now." Her overcompensating smile irritates me.

"Are you sure? Some of the questions are probably personal."

Don't be a dick. Just do what she says.

"I don't care.”

The rigid way she sits in her chair says the complete opposite.

She seems to be one minute away from breaking down, so I concede. I sigh as I grab the pen and get started on the first question. The paperwork doesn't take us as long as I anticipated, so Y/n and I sit together in silence. She stares at the exit longingly.

The way her eyes dart around the room as she gnaws on her bottom lip makes me feel merciful enough to save her from the anxiety eating her up inside.

“If it's any consolation, I hate hospitals too."

Her head swings toward the direction of my voice.

"Yeah?"

I nod. "Haven't been to one since…"

"I know." she says as she sees my chest heaves as I remember the millions of times we’ve been here before.

I keep my eyes focused on the soundless television playing in one corner.

Her good hand clasps onto mine and gives it a squeeze. I'm grateful she understands me enough not to ask any other questions. The idea of offering another raw part of myself feels like a betrayal of the years I've spent carefully developing a certain kind of persona.

"I hate them too." Her voice cracks.

"Why?"

She stares down at her swollen hand. “My dad…” She pauses, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze like she gave me. "Let's just say mom ended up in the ER a couple of times for being clumsy."

I take a deep breath to stave off the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "And did you have issues with being clumsy?" If she says yes, I swear to God two men will end up floating in the Chicago River tonight.

She shakes her head rather aggressively. "No. No." My rapid heart rate can be heard through my ears. "If you were, you can tell me." While I can't promise I won't do anything about it, I can promise to make him hurt. A lot. With sulfuric acid or something, those pre-med studies are starting to come in handy now.

The overwhelming sense of protectiveness hits me hard, and I don't shy away from it. There is nothing I hate more than men who use their fists against innocent women and children.

"It never got to that point. Suze made sure of it." she says with a small smile.

"How?"

"She caught onto the signs and interfered before things got bad. Used her savings from my grandpa's life insurance policy to help Mom get a divorce and start a new life." A tear slips down her face, and I can't stand the sight of it.

I brush it away with the pad of my thumb, but the damp trail still lingers. A driving force inside of me wants to erase the sad look on her face. "Did her plan also happen to include a jug of sulfuric acid?"

She forces out a laugh. "I think concrete shoes were more in style back then."

I fake shudder. "Remind me to never make mom angry again."

"Forget her, you'd have to deal with me." She holds up her injured hand like a war trophy.

"I'm absolutely terrified."

"Miss Y/n?" a nurse calls out.

Y/n doesn't move at the sound of her name.

"That's you." I place my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze.

She sucks in a deep breath as she stares down at my hand.

Her chair nearly tumbles behind her as she bolts out of the seat, throwing her one good hand up in the air. "I'm here!"

The nurse leads us through the emergency room bay.

Individual beds line the wall, each area divided by a paper curtain.

The empty bed meant for Y/n is unacceptable. Between the person retching behind one partition and the individual on the other side hacking up their lung, I refuse to let her be seen here.

"I'd like my…my friend, to be taken care of in a private suite," I speak up. I know I sound snotty right now but honestly, I’ll be damned if I let her already horrible hospital experience get any worse.

The nurse grimaces as her gaze licks across my body. "This is a hospital. Not the Ritz. Take a seat and wait for the doctor like everyone else."

Y/n hops on the bed without any complaint, and I'm tempted to grab her and go elsewhere. The nurse doesn't seem the least bit bothered by all the noise happening around us as she checks Y/n’s vitals and asks some routine questions.

Y/n answers each one while chewing her bottom lip raw. This atmosphere couldn't put anyone at ease, least of all her.

The nurse hangs the clipboard at the foot of the bed, and I decide to try again.

"I'll pay whatever it takes to have her seen somewhere quieter. Money is no object."

The nurse only replies by shutting the paper curtain in my face.

Y/n laughs while I stare at the curtain, dumbfounded to be treated like this.

"You find this funny?"

She nods, her eyes alight for the first time all night. "Did you see her face when you said money is no object? I think if she didn't put the clipboard away, she would have slapped your face with it."

"It's not my fault she isn't accustomed to how things are done in the real world."

"Wake up baby. You're living in the real world." She waves around our room.

"It's terrifying." I say, looking away so she couldn’t see the blush that appeared on my face at the nickname.

"Come here. I'II make it better." Y/n pats the bed.

Doubtful, but I'm a glutton for giving her what she wants lately. Paper crinkles as I sit next to her. I take up most of the bed, giving her little room to get away from me. My thigh brushes against hers. She tries to scoot away, but there isn't enough space.

“Isn’t this cozy?" she quips.

I give her a small smile before she asks, “Hey! Let me see your tattoo.”

God I’d forgotten all about them. I move the collar of my shirt to show the two small ivy leaves we’d gotten. She gasps and gently touches my skin, “Oh my gosh it’s so pretty Connie.” she stares at it for a moment before I ask to see hers.

She lifts up her shirt on the side, exposing her ribcage and the two matching leaves.

“I can’t believe you agreed to get a Taylor Swift referenced tattoo with me Con.” she says as I admire the tattoo for a bit.

I smile until saying, “Hey I might be quiet and mopey but at least I have good taste in music.”

She softly smiles at me before eyeing the IV bag with horror before checking out the exit.

"What’s wrong?”

She leans closer to me and whispers, "Is now a bad time to admit I pass out whenever someone tries to stick a needle in me?"

My lips lift at the corners. I don't know why I find the idea hilarious, given her ability to watch eight consecutive hours of true crime documentaries without so much as flinching.

"You're afraid of needles?"

She sputters. "No. I'm not afraid. It just happens to be a bodily reaction I can't control."

“That's good then because the nurse needs to set you up with that IV when she comes back."

“No! Don't tell me that! I thought she was one of the good ones.”

I nod, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from laughing.

"She lied to me!" She bolts from the seat and would have tripped over her own heels if I didn't reach out and catch her.

*Careful." I place her back on the bed and decide to stand guard in case she gets any ideas to flee the scene.

Her eyes fit from me to the gap between two curtains, as if she is thinking how she can get past me.

"I'm joking.”

She scans my face for the truth before she slaps my shoulder with her good hand. "Asshole! I believed you!"

Laughter explodes out of me like a bomb, stunning her.

“Did you just laugh?”

"No."

“Yes." Someone calls out from the other side of the curtain.

“Now, do you mind shutting up? Some of us are trying to get some sleep over here after having our stomach pumped."

Fuck this place and the people in here. "We're leaving."

"Not so fast. You can't leave before I check you out." The doctor strolls in and points at the bed with his clipboard.

Y/n remains tight-lipped as the doctor checks her chart. He asks her some questions about how she got hurt, all while staring me up and down like I'm the person she was trying to injure. She is taken away for a few scans, and my breathing doesn't return to normal until the nurse brings her back.

That should be my first sign that things are getting out of hand on my end. I'm inching closer to an emotional minefield without any kind of map, only one wrong step away from exploding.

The doctor checks the scans. "It looks like you have a boxer's fracture."

Her face brightens. "That sounds badass."

I glare at her. "Calm down, Muhammad Ali. I wouldn't count today as a victory by any means."

The doctor's eyes lighten. "Next time, avoid any initial contact on the fourth and fifth knuckles."

"Please don't encourage her."

The doctor shakes his head with a laugh before giving Y/n a detailed set of instructions regarding the healing time. I'm skeptical about the whole visit and, given the setting, doubtful about the level of care. I'll be damned if Y/n sustains permanent injuries because of Dean. My chest tightens at the idea.

“Great Thanks, Doc!" She hops off the bed, but I hold my arm out, stopping her

"I’d like a second opinion." The command bursts out of me without any rhyme or reason. Deep down, I know a boxer's fracture isn't the worst thing that could have happened. But things aren't right in my head where Y/n is concerned. At least not anymore.

Both of the doctor's eyebrows arch. "For a small fracture?"

"Don't mind him. He tends to be a bit overbearing." She shoots me a look as if I'm the crazy one out of the two of us.

"Okay..." the doctor says.

Maybe I am losing it because why else would I care?

You hate it when she cries.

You wouldn't mind murdering someone who hurt her.

You took her to the hospital even though you despise them with every fibre of your being.

The signs all point to one thing: our situation is quickly crumbling, and I'm the only one to blame.

Y/n interrupts my thoughts. "I'll be sure to wear the brace for a few weeks and avoid any kind of activities that could aggravate the injury."

"Perfect. And don't forget to schedule a follow-up visit with your physician. "The doctor gives me one last look before handing Y/n the discharge paperwork. "Nice meeting you."

"Will you help me with this?" She holds out the clipboard with her left hand as the doctor leaves.

I grab it from her and fill it out.

She checks the time on her phone. "Well, at least that didn't take as long as I thought it would. I'm sure you're dying to get back home."

That's the scary thing. I didn't think about anything or anyone once during our entire time here because making sure she was taken care of was my only concern. I've spent the past seventeen years of my life thinking solely about my future, and all it took was one girl to make me completely forget about my responsibilities for a few hours.

As if that doesn't scare me enough, it only takes one glance at her makeshift brace to make my blood burn hot under my skin. I know exactly why her injury angers me more than anything else.

It's the same reason I feel the urge to push Jere away from her whenever he gets too close or the way I unexplainably need to see her whenever she is out of my sight for longer than a few hours.

You’re in love with her.

Fuck.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

y/n’s pov

We’re in an Uber on the way home, sitting in comfortable silence until Conrad breaks it.

“Why’d you get with Dean anyway?” My stomach doubles over.

Comfortable silence is so overrated.

I sigh. I’ve been dreading this question for ages now.

“I don’t know.” I answer vaguely.

Conrad gives me a puzzled look, “What do you mean you don't know? You must’ve had a reason.”

His restlessness gets me more agitated.

“I don’t know Conrad. I don’t know why I got with him, I don’t know why I was waiting on you for so long either.” I look out the window as the car stops in front of the house.

“What? What do you mean?” he says as I get out the car and speed up to the front door, taking the keys out of my pocket and refusing to carry on with this conversation anymore.

Conrad keeps yelling after me as he follows me upstairs to my room, both of us trying to ignore everyone else who joined Conrad and are trying to ask their own questions.

I slam my door shut and collapse on my bed hearing Conrad trying to calm everyone down and telling them everything that's happened until he asks them all to give me some space for now.

I cry in the silence as I hear everyone leaving from outside the door until it opens.

“Hey.”

Steven. Thank God.

“Steve…” I say sniffling.

He looks at me with a sad smile before sitting on the bed with me and taking me in his arms.

“Con told us everything,” he says after a few minutes of holding me, “did you really get a boxer's fracture?”

I laugh in tears before showing him my hand and saying, “You should see the other guy.”

Steven and I laugh together before going back to the silence as he hugs me.

“He really cares about you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t. He hates me. I yelled at him and now I’m crying here on my bed like an idiot.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Steven looks down at me.

I shake my head before saying, “He asked why I got with Dean.��

“Oh. That’s not too bad.”

“No it’s not.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because I’ve been waiting for Conrad for so long and I’m just sick and tired of always being there to help him get over his breakups when he’d be so much better off with me. I know I sound selfish and none of my reasons are justified but I just thought that after everything we’ve been through together, he’d maybe like me just a little bit.”

Steven hugs me again and softly says, “He does.”

After that almost everyone but Conrad came in to check up on me and make sure I was okay, making me feel even more guilty about being all emotional like this. It’s not until Susannah’s holding me and whispering sweet nothings that my eyes start to feel heavy.

I think I fell asleep after that, I don’t remember much except waking up to the sun shining its very unwelcome face in my eyes.

I step out of my room after freshening up and I’m about to make my way to the kitchen for food until I’m stopped by something in the hallway.

Or should I say someone.

“Conrad,” I bend down and stroke his hair out of his face, “Conrad wake up.” I say gently.

He stirs for a minute before sitting up and taking my hands in his.

“Have you been out here all night?” I ask.

“Yes.” he says in a raspy voice.

God that voice would make my knees give out if I wasn’t already on the floor with him.

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you.”

I sigh before he interrupts me, “Listen, I heard everything you said to Steven last night and I know I shouldn’t have and I was eavesdropping but I’m sorry it was by accident. And I know I don’t deserve any more of your time…I’ve already wasted a lot of it but just hear me out for ten minutes.”

“No.” I try to get out of his grasp.

“Stop fighting and give me ten minutes.”

“No way.”

“Nine then.”

“Five.”

“Eight and a half.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

I pause, knowing that he won’t let me go anywhere before I hear him out.

“You don’t deserve seven seconds, let alone seven minutes of my time.”

“How about seven words then?”

I laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I am falling in love with you.”

I blink up at him. Either I am still sleeping or I must have not heard him correctly because there is no way Conrad Fisher just admitted that he is falling in love with me.

Absolutely no fucking way.

Right?

I squeeze my eyes shut as if that can erase the words from my memory.

"You're joking.

"I'm not."

"This is just another part of your game." I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"It stopped being a game for me a long time ago."

"You're lying."

His brows pull together. "Ask me why I hate when people touch my bookshelf."

"Are you serious right now? What does that have to do with any of this?" I think back to his bookshelf he won’t let any of the others go near but loves to let me organise and re-organise each year.

"Because I did it for you."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I read somewhere online that organising objects like books and things is good for people with anxiety, because then they can feel in control of something and know exactly what to expect especially if things are the same as they've predicted all the time. You love reading too, so I changed it. Bought all the books you like to read so that you’d stay and read with me more often. I forced everyone else out of my room and especially away from that bookshelf. All because I wanted to help you."

Emotions clog my throat, preventing my ability to reply.

What can I possibly say that could compare to that?

Conrad doesn't give me an option as he continues. "Want to know why I kept this plant you got me?" he says pointing to the small green cactus with “Don’t be a prick” written on the pot that we could see looking into his room from the hallway.

I nod.

"Because it was the first time someone got me a present that made me laugh."

If hearts could melt into puddles, mine would be liquified right about now.

I take a deep breath.

Remember what he did.

“Con that doesn't change anything you still ignored me for a whole year. Every time I tried to call you or text you, you’d just leave me on read or decline, and now you’re telling me you love me? Who does that?"

"Someone who doesn't understand the first thing about loving someone, but is willing to try if you give me a chance."

"You want me to give you a chance after everything? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He winces, and a bit of my anger fades away at his vulnerability.

"Intelligence has nothing to do with this."

"Easy for you to say when you're not the one who feels like a fool."

"Really? Because based on your reaction today, I'm feeling pretty damn foolish for ever admitting that I'm falling in love with you." He gets up off the floor, leaving me feeling chilled to the bone.

"Con..." I reach out, but he takes a step back.

My eyes sting from his rejection. It hurts.

“I’m not asking you to love me back. I don't expect that and I'm not sure if I ever will because I'm the furthest thing for lovable. I'm selfish, and rude, and don't know the first thing about being in a proper relationship with someone. But that doesn't mean I’m not willing to try for you if you let me."

How am I supposed to be angry at him when he thinks he is unlovable?

A pain rips through my chest at the thought of him talking about himself this way.

I get up off the floor and walk straight into his chest. His arms quickly wrap themselves around my waist, holding me even tighter.

"Just because you make selfish choices doesn't mean you're a selfish person. At least not completely."

This boy had been there for Belly, Steven, me and Jere for years without any kind of payback, especially when Susannah was going through her cancer and despite feeling an immense amount of pain himself, he shoved all his emotions aside so that he could be there for us. For me. If that isn't a selfless sacrifice, I don't know what is.

"Your logic is half-baked at best."

"So is yours, seeing as you called yourself unlovable."

His body tenses. "I'm stating facts."

"I don't know what bullshit your father told you over the years, but it's not true. Your brother loves you."

"He’s obligated to."

"No one is obligated to love someone else. Blood or not."

He takes a deep breath. "You're right."

I smile up at him. "I could get used to hearing those words."

He reaches up and cups my cheek. "Give me a chance and I'll tell you them every single day."

I sigh and look away. "I don't know.”

"Tell me what's stopping you."

"You don't do relationships."

“Good thing our feelings lead us here rather than our minds, and mine are willing to try then."

I avoid his penetrating gaze. "What if my feelings are telling me to run?”

“It's cute you think you can outrun me, but I'll give you a head start just to make things interesting." he smiles down at me.

"Do you always have an answer for everything?"

"Not for the one that matters most." The way he looks at me stirs up something deep inside of me.

Longing. I want to give him a chance, regardless of the potential fallout.

You might get hurt.

I might, but I might miss out on something special because I’m too afraid of the what ifs. I'm done being that person. Even if it means getting hurt, I'd rather try and fail than never try at all.

I stand on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his.

He holds me tight against his chest, as if he is afraid of letting me go.

I pull away, only to clasp onto his chin. "This could be a disaster, but I'm willing to try."

He shuts me up by pushing his lips against mine, sealing our new deal. The way he kisses me is different than any time before. He cups my face with the palms of his hands as his lips mold against mine, teasing me until I feel dizzy. His thumb brushes across my cheek back and forth, and heat rushes down my spine straight to my belly. He makes me feel cherished. Protected.

Loved in a way that makes me never want to come back down to reality.

I could spend forever being kissed like this and still feel like it isn't enough. While Conrad might not be the best with words, his kiss says it all.

He is falling in love with me. And I’m falling in love with him. No translation necessary.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

ahh i cant believe its finished omg😔💔...

anyways, onto the next one😍🙏

again please lmk what you think of this and please give me requests on what to do next!!

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #fanfic #fics #tsitp #belly conklin #jeremiah fisher #steven conklin #the summer i turned pretty #1999 #conrad x reader fluff #conrad x y/n angst #conrad x y/n fluff #conrad x reader #conrad x y/n

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