#i say into the void reaching my three followers

[szaphonic]

msnd: might suck nyour dick

#on my way to my callback ladies wish me luck ! #i say into the void reaching my three followers #feeling SO much better than i did on the actual audition day #so taking this as a good sign bc if that steaming pile of shit dumpster fire could get me a callback then i hav every right 2 b delusional #this new fangled tumblr tag limit fuckinw my vibe #not to worry gals #listening to selena to get into character is hard work studying #NO MATTER #it’s three hours jesus fucking christ #DONT CARE #it’s gna be good and even if it isn’t good #nope can’t imagine it not being anything other than good #time 2 reprise my role ! #bc one thing abt leila k is when it’s shakespeare shes gna EAT DOWN #lei.txt

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Five:: [Why Do They Call It Love?]

Summary: Jake spends time with his side of the family and your kiddos in Texas. The lies quickly come to an end though when an overworked and overwhelmed nursing student makes the wrong call to your not-so-emergent contact.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.

Word Count: 5K

Author Note: The last chapter update before Christmas! EEP! It's one of the moments we've all been waiting for too.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It’s not too late you know—“ Jake watched as his father, the man who had many times throughout his childhood and teenage adolescents put his hands on him, poured himself a drink at the small but decent bar in the room Jake and his groomsmen were getting ready in. “To call this whole thing off that is.” 

All Jake could do was press his lips together in a fine line of disappointment, he’d expected this. Hell if anything he was actually pleasantly surprised Rod had been able to hold off for as long as he could. 

“I wouldn’t have asked Y/n to marry me if I didn’t want to marry her, Dad.” Jake sighed as he watched his father smirk and swirl his scotch around in the glass he held firmly in his ageing hand. 

“You're not afraid of being reductive, are you son?.” Rodney Seresin was a hard man to understand, he showed little empathy towards others or emotion in general. Jake had never even seen the man drink anything beside single malt scotch. “I doubt you have more fear than the average asshole who decides to get hitched.” The almost self deprecating follow up did little to soothe the frown etched almost permanently onto Jake's face whenever he was around his father. “If anything you seem pretty fearless walking headstrong into a marriage that will surely end up on some poor clerks desk just waiting to be stamped as null and void.” Jake couldn’t find the right words to say as he watched Rodney take a swig of the amber liquor that would surely give the bastard liver cancer at some stage. But Jake mustard up the first few that came to mind. 

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink pops, you’re projecting your own fears about love onto me, on my wedding day.” Jake had a lot of big emotions about his father. Deep down Jake wanted him to be proud of the man he’d become, especially on his wedding day. But Jake also knew, after some pretty intense therapy sessions, that his father’s approval never really meant anything. 

“Oh please, everyone’s scared of love dipshit—you learn that in your twenties, or at least I did anyway.” Jake's father grumbled as he went about pouring himself another drink. Only this time he reached for another glass to pour Jake one too. “It takes a special kind of lunacy to not be afraid of happiness and my boy do you fit the bill.” 

“That’s so dumb—“ Jake scoffed, he wasn’t about to stand here and listen to a cranky old man project his beliefs, he’d done that all throughout his childhood whenever his father made comments about his mother only being good for two things. Those two things eventually evolved into three once Jake was old enough for the ‘birds and the bees’ talk. 

“No you’re dumb and that’s exactly why you aren’t afraid of happiness.” Rodney huffed. “The smarter you are the more you know, happiness is a fucking trap that can’t and won’t ever last forever.”

“That woman out there is about to be my wife—“ Jake argued as he tried to contain his rage. The vein in his neck throbbed as he clenched his jaw and balled his fist to maintain his control. This guy wasn’t worth it, he never had been and never would be and the last thing Jake ever wanted was to be any way, shape, or form like his father. “You don’t get to tell me I won’t be happy marrying the woman I love, who I’ve been in love with since the first time I saw her. The woman, who mind you, is one of the most intelligent people I know, loves me for me! Without the goddamn last name or family values, she loves me for me which is something that you wouldn’t understand.” Jake would never forget this, that on his wedding day or all days his father felt it was necessary to get up on his soap box. “You’re unbelievable—“ 

“You really think that some aspiring author who’s biggest accomplishment is working a full time position at the local bookstore is the love of your life?” Rodney asked with enough conviction in his tone that Jake thought for a moment it was a genuine question—but as always it was used to mask a dig at your chosen profession. The real question was if Jake loved you for you, the answer would always be wholeheartedly. 

“I’ve experienced more love knowing Y/n these last few years than you ever had with Ma and as much as I hate that for her I’m glad she doesn’t give two shits about you.” Jake argued, the anger had materialised across his face in a deep shade of red. 

“Jacob, even if you consider this girl to be the love of your life It’s still going to end.” Jake stepped a little further forward to close some distance between himself and his father. The older man reached out to extend the amber liquid to his only son. The disappointment, the mistake. Jake reluctantly accepted the vessel. “It's inevitable, whether it be by the slow pull of disease, or the shock of loose footing on a hiking trail.” Rodney grumbled on as he eyed his son down trying to make a point that this day for Jake would eventually be as meaningless as his existence. “Or perhaps in your case it’ll be the corrosion of two different personalities that reshape each other until they’re no longer compatible.” 

“You’re just a cranky old bastard aren’t you?” Jake couldn’t think of anything else to say to his father as his groomsmen filed back into the room all laughing and ready to lead Jake out to the ceremony. 

“Maybe, but I’m a bastard with a point—happiness always ends.” Rodney smirked. “Think about it, the best case scenario, son, is that you both die at the same time.” Jake felt like he couldn’t breathe as his best man slapped his hands on his suited up shoulders. They’d just gotten back from their own first look with you. Some still had tears in their eyes. You were just that beautiful. 

“You ready man? It’s time.” Jake looked down at the drink in his hand his father had poured him before he took the entirety of the amber liquid he hoped one day would be the reason for his father’s demise in his mouth. The eye contact between father and son never broke as Jake swallowed without a fuss. 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

The Oncology ward was never your favourite place, hell it was never a place you thought you’d have to frequent, but the copious amounts of Christmas decorations that lined the halls and boarded the nurses station, put a smile to your weary face. Those decorations hadn't been there the last time you met with your oncologist to discuss your treatment plan. That meeting had felt like a lifetime go, but in reality it was only a mere few weeks. 

“Okay so this is your room.” One of the nurses that had helped admit you as a patient to Rhode Island Hospital oncology ward smiled behind you as you and your mum carried your bags into the room. “Try to make yourself at home, we find that the more homely people make their room the easier the stay is.” 

She was young, fresh out of college and still had those brown baby eyes that looked like they just wanted to save every person she came into contact with. High hopes that would soon come to realise that in life you couldn’t save everyone. Lydia was her name, or so the badge credentials that hung from her scrub top told you.  

“Will do.” You smiled, nothing would make this easier. Nothing about this entire situation was or would be easy. 

Lydia left you and your mother alone to settle your things, knowing you were about to spend a your holidays couped up in a hospital room made your heart ache for the holiday memories where your children were opening presents under the tree as you and Jake drank coffee spiked with Baileys at six am in the afternoon. 

The ever looming crisis of impending death always made you wonder if last Christmas would be your last Christmas with your little family. It made you wonder if you’d ever get to spend a holiday like this with them again. Lucy and Lennox would turn seven in February, Samuel would be three in August, it dawned on you as you placed your toiletries in the bathroom, would you get to see your children grow? Watch them fall in love for the first time, learn new skills, develop into adults, get married, graduate. All the things you wanted to see as a mother. 

“Where do you want me to put these?” Your mother called out as you turned around to see her holding up a string of multicoloured Christmas lights. You frowned at the woman who had been there for you through thick and thin with her childlike mannerisms and christmas cheer. 

“Mum, why do you have Christmas lights?” You sighed softly like you were trying to be brave and take all of this on the chin. 

“I thought that the least I could do would be to help decorate your room, you are in here over the holidays afterall, why not spend some time decorating while you can?” She beamed as she took you under her arm and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “Brought you a little Christmas tree too.” 

“You didn’t have to do that—“ You appreciated the festive atmosphere though and knew over the coming days that you’d appreciate the warmth even more. Right now though all you wanted to do was sleep. 

“I know, but you’re my baby—“ She whispered back softly as you both looked around the blank space, the sterile environment that was about to be your home for the next three weeks at the minimum. “So I reckon we put them all the way around the room.”

“It’s gonna look like the first season of stranger things in here.” You chuckled which quickly turned into a throaty cough your mother frowned in worry over, but you reassured her you were fine once you caught your breath. “I’m fine, promise—“ The world felt off for a split second. Like tunnel vision was threatening to take you hostage out of nowhere–a blackening darkness loomed behind your eyes as spotted fragments came and left in the space of a few seconds. “Woah, that was a little odd.” 

“Sweetheart?” Your mothers eyes nearly popped out of her head when she realised what was happening. “Do you feel okay?” It was a hard question to answer, it always had been. But right now it was harder than ever. 

“I’m a little light headed, why?” It wasn’t anything unusual, but with the way your mum was staring at you like you’d just grown another head from your shoulder made you think it was something more serious. “Mum?” Something was off as you stood trying to figure out what was going on, your body felt weird, like a tingling sensation had tickled its way across your skin. 

“The left side of your face is drooping.” Your mother explained as she put the lights down on your bed. “Your cheek is–”

“What?” You asked nearly in disbelief at her reaction to face slightly drooping opposed to your right. “What are you even talking about?” 

“I’m getting the nurse, I think somethings wrong, I think you're having a stroke.” This couldn’t be happening, what more could life throw at you? First a breast cancer diagnosis and now a fucking stroke? “Stay here.”

“I’m literally admitted! Where do you think I’m going to go!” Your voice followed your mother out towards the nurses station as you tried to take a few steps, that’s when you realised though that the entire left side of your body had gone numb and tingly. “Oh god—“ Panic soon set in as you took a seat on your hospital bed. Tears flooded your eyes as an immense wave of anger and despair erupted out of your soul. 

This wasn’t fair. None of it was. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Dad!! Push me higher!” Lenny laughed as Jake pushed him on the swing set in the backyard of his family’s home. 

“Any higher and you’ll do a loop around man.” Jake chuckled but he obliged by his son's wishes and gave him a little more of a chesty send off when the swing carrying his son came back his way. 

More of the Seresins spending Christmas and new years at home had since arrived and the festivities were well and truly underway. Jake watched as the sun set below the rolling hills along the horizon as his mothers festoon lights illuminated the back deck. They reminded him of Penny’s, the ones that always made the Hard Deck balcony seem so much brighter. 

“When mum told me Y/n wasn’t coming this year I thought she was lying.” Jasmine called out as she made her way across the backyard to where Jake stood playing with his two boys. Sammy sat by his leg fixated on the tonka truck Jake swore was gonna leave the biggest bruise on his shin if the kid kept ramming it into him. “What’s going on with you two?” 

“You know—“ Jake groaned, he was just about over the question as much as you were. Everyone knew, it wasn’t a secret Jake kept close to his chest. He knew he fucked his marriage up, he knew he was the problem. But it didn’t help when everyone asked what was going on between the pair of you over and over and over again. 

It was like opening up an old wound over and over again. Watching the infection spread, watching the tissue decay and slapping a gauze on it hoping that it’ll heal in time. 

But as you pointed out, time didn’t always heal old wounds and you were still very much healing from the damage Jake had caused when he lost focus and sight of the things that mattered most to him. 

He didn’t realise you were gone until you had locked the door behind you and taken the key. 

“I just thought it was a rough patch. I didn't think you guys wouldn’t spend Christmas together.” Jasmine Seresin was the youngest daughter of all the Seresin Siblings and Jake's most fearsome protector. She was always in his corner ready to go into bat for him just as much as Jake was for her. “What’s she doing anyway?” Jake assumed it was because of their close age gap, Jasmine always said it was because Jake couldn't throw a solid punch to save himself.

“Uh she’s going on a trip to Banff—“ Jake continued to push Lenny on the swing set his uncle had built over thirty years ago. It was a ridiculous thing with its over the top attachments and its stainless steel finishing. The slide used to burn the crap out of your ass if you went down the thing in the midsummer Texas heat. But it was still good as it was the first day Jake and his sisters took it for its very first spin. Now he was a dad, pushing his son on that same damn swing he cried on when he scuffed his knee playing tag. “Some friend's trip she was invited on.” Jake wished he knew more but he never wanted to pry. You had a private life now he wasn't privy to. “She hasn’t really told me much about it and I didnt wanna ask in case she thought I was being controlling.” 

“Oh.” Jasmine had to stop herself from saying what she was thinking straight off the top of her head, but Jake knew her better than that. He could practically see the cogs in her brain twisting and turning and working together to formulate her next opinion. 

“Say it—“ Jake encouraged. “Go on, I know you want to.” 

“It’s just Banff can be awfully romantic this time of year and all.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to tell my ex husband about a new fling that’s taking me to Banff for Christmas either.” 

“I wonder how the conversation will go when she tells that guys she fucked said ex husband the night before she flew out then.” Jake smirked as he pushed his son a little higher to hear his screams of joy as Jasmine cupped her hand over her wide open mouth. “I don’t think there’s a guy.” 

“Holy shit you two are so getting back together.” 

“If mum had it her way I’d be divorced six ways till Sunday and have an open day down at the church for potential candidates she approves of.” Jake couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder as Jasmine groaned and rubbed her temples. 

“You’re her baby boy Jake, she’s obsessed with you—god she never did like Y/n all that much did she?” 

“Nah—and I honestly think this whole separation has just made her delusional self more delusional.” 

“I don’t want you two losing sight of the love you have for each other because of a rough patch.” Jasmine nearly warned as she bumped Jake's hip with her own. “You're too pig-headed sometimes.” 

“Funny, I’ve got a wingwoman who says the same damn thing.”

“Sounds like my kinda gal.” Jake had to scoff at the idea that immediately popped into his mind. Phoenix was very much his sister's type and he knew that. 

“You tell mum about Racheal yet?” What Janeen Seresin didn’t know about her youngest daughter was that she and her husband Eric, who stood grilling away with Jake's father, had recently decided that monogamy just wasn’t their thing. Racheal had started off as a babysitter for the couple's two kids, ten year old Stacey and eight year old Lewis. When Jake found out that Jasmine was bisexual he didn’t blink and eye, but he did spit his beer all over Rooster when she told him she and Eric where both happily fucking the nanny. Sometimes together. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s already on the verge of an eruption over one of her kids on the brink of no fault divorce, could you imagine what would happen if I came out at the family Christmas party?” Jake just chuckled and shook his head pretending like he didn’t already know it would end in disaster. “I’d meet our ancestors Jake, all the way back to pre colonial times my guy, you’re my scapegoat right now.” 

“Happy to be of assistance.” Jake just laughed at his sister's chaos. He watched with a smile half the size of his face as she turned to walk off. Not before she turned around and gave the most obnoxious salute she could have. 

“Appropriate your service, Lieutenant.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Your daughter’s going under for a procedure we call a thrombectomy to remove the suspected blood clot from inside her artery.” Your mother sat in the waiting area of the emergency surgery floor she’d been escorted to once you had been whisked away. “Luckily for her we caught this so early she should have practically no defecates depending on how the surgery goes.” 

First your separation, then your breast cancer diagnosis and now a stroke, what more could you possibly have to deal with. 

“What caused it? She's been rather sick the last few days, throwing up, not sleeping, eating.” Your mother explained to the resident who had come out to update her on your status. “She's already dealing with so much.” 

“Unfortunately this isn't uncommon in young woman who go through severe bouts of stress, i've read your daughter's file and its safe to say that the clot was probably due to her current oral chemo, plus a combination of high stress from the diagnosis, her blood pressure and her bodies inability to sustain proper nutrients, it's a perfect storm for these sorts of things.” It made sense but the explanation didn't make the outcome of the situation you were facing any easier for your mother to handle. “Rest assured your daughter is in really good hands and the fact she was already inside the hospital when the stroke started to manifest itself means her chances of a full recovery are rather high.” 

“But now she’ll just live long enough to slowly deteriorate and be taken by the cancer, won't she?” Your mother wouldn't ever admit it to you, but the phone call where you told her that you had been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, was one of the worst days of her life. The first being the day your father and the love of her life died far too young far too quickly. “My daughter is strong, Doctor Phillips, but she's just one woman, how much is she expected to be dealt before she gives up.” 

Doctor Phillips, the resident who had been tasked with updating your mother, just flashed her a look of sympathy laced in professionalism that truly showed a testament to her ability to not let her own feelings get in the way of her patients and their families. 

“Let's take this one step at a time, Miss O’riley.” She added politely before saying goodbye and left your mother to sit in silence watching the clock tick, although she didn't take her eyes off the clock on the wall for a mere second, time still felt like it stood still while you were on that operating table.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The day had been long, overdrawn, and full of mindless family drama over dinner on the back deck the first night Jake and the kids were in Texas. One night down only.. “Oh God–” Jake groaned as he finally let his head rest on the pillow and realised he would be here for a full two weeks before he could escape the family he never wanted to be anything alike. 

The kids had gone down relatively easy with little to no tears, Lucy was a little upset that you never called like you said you would and Jake was slightly concerned that you never returned his calls or texts. However he also understood you didn't owe him a damn thing and for all he knew, you were still up in the air, on your way to the very beginning of what he hoped would be a fantastic kid tree trip. You did after all deserve some time away. 

Jake had thought quickly on his feet before the tears could start though, he told Lucy that you had said you'd call in the morning because you knew that you'd keep her up far too long. He just hoped as his own head hit the pillow that you would in fact call in the morning. 

Ten o'clock seemed rather early to be heading off to bed but Jake needed to reset his mind in order to be able to handle his family for two more weeks. He needed at least a solid eight hours before his sister Abigail joined in on the festivities for tomorrow with her own family. Jake was the only Seresin sibling this year without his partner present and god did he feel like the black sheep. 

What really cemented that fact he was the family disappointment was when his father had handed him a beer and said the only thing he’d spoken to Jake the entire time he’d been home. A quick, monotone “I told you so son, happiness never lasts.” 

His childhood bedroom hadn’t changed a single bit. As Jake laid in the twin bed he lost his virginity in, he listened to the baby monitor that kept a watchful eye on his three kids just down the hall. Little Sammy was sound asleep, Lucy and Lenny thought they were in the clear but they were up talking about whatever it is young twins talk about late at night while they’re visiting their grandparents place. 

Jake wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep but the sound of his phone going off on the small bedside table surely woke him up in enough of a frazzled state to know it had been a few hours, long enough for his body to truly settle into a deep state of rest. 

“Fuck–” Jake growled as he reached up for his phone. “The fuck is–who the hell is–” Jake grumbled as he sat up in the twin bed and tried to remember where he knew that area code from as the unknown number illuminated his phonescreen. “Hello?” It was a last minute decision to answer once Jake had actually seen the time, two thirty in the morning to be exact. 

“Hi, would I be speaking to Mr. Seresin?” Lydia asked politely on the other end of the line, she sat at the nurses station on the ass end of her double shift. A double shift she wasn't supposed to be working. She couldn't feel her feet with how badly they were throbbing, her eyelids were far too heavy to keep up and she hadn’t eaten since noon yesterday, but her patients came first. Lydia Hudson was determined to be the best nurse she could be and that included updating your emergency contact on your post-op recovery. 

“This is he.” Jake replied rather roughly into the phone as he held it to his ear in the darkness of his childhood bedroom. His voice was an octave deeper than it usually was with how tired he was. 

“Hi Jake, this is Lydia calling from Rhode Island Hospital.” It took Jake's brain a moment to catch up to his heart as the women on the other end of the line spoke, but it caught up soon enough. “I'm just calling to let you know how your wife went in her emergent surgery, it seems as though we were able to retrieve the clot before it could cause any irreparable deficits.” Jake frowned as he ran his hand over his face, he wasn't sure what the hell he was listening to but his heart was hammering inside his chest. “There doesn't seem to be any critical deficits at the moment, she's on some pretty intense pain medication but we’re hoping that it won't interfere with her upcoming Mastectomy and chemotherapy sessions.” 

“Im–I'm sorry, do you have the wrong number?” Jake questioned. “You said my wife?” 

“Y/n Seresin?, I’m so sorry if no one had updated you sooner, but while she was setting up her room in oncology she suffered a moderate stroke we think was brought on by the–” 

“Oncology meaning?” Jake was beginning to break out in a sweat as his heart raced. No, no you were supposed to be on a plane to Banff, you should have been in Calgary by now. 

“The cancer ward–?” Lydia replied. “Mr. Seresin you do know your wife was admitted for stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, right?” Lydia frowned as she read over your notes again trying to understand why the man she had just called, your husband, didn’t seem to know a damn thing about your situation. “She was just put through admission today when she–” Lydia paused when she saw it, your actual emergency contact. It wasn’t Jake Seresin who was listed as your emergency contact on your paperwork, but your mother who was currently sitting at your bedside watching your chest move up and down post your operation. “Oh my god–” 

“Y/n—“ Jake couldn’t make sense of what he’d just been told. “Has cancer? My wife Y/n has cancer?” Jake had to say it out loud for the realisation to kick in. “She has cancer? My wife had a stroke? What the hell is–” 

“Mr. Seresin I’m so unbelievably sorry but I can’t share any more details with you under HIPAA, I’ve just realised you weren’t listed as your wife’s emergency contact.” 

“She has cancer? My Y/n has cancer?” The vomiting, the flu that Lucy said you had had for weeks now, how tired you looked, it all made sense. “Oh god—“ Jake felt the tears spilling down his cheeks as he jumped out of his childhood bed and hit the light switch. “No, oh god no.” He felt like he was going to throw up as he rummaged through his duffle for a clean shirt and shorts. “How long has she known?” The call, the need for Jake to take the kids, the way you wouldn't even give him a chance to right his wrongs, divorce…. “How long has she known for?” 

“I’m so sorry Jake, I can’t share any more details with you.” Lydia apologised before she began to panic and hung up the phone, leaving Jake in his newest existential crisis. 

Jake had to go, he had to get back to you, why the fuck would you not tell him this? How long have you known? How long did you have left even? What was your prognosis? Jake had so many questions that were left unanswered as he changed and grabbed his wallet. He was booking the next available flight back to Rhode Island as he shoved all his stuff back into his duffel bag. 

The kids would have to stay—oh god the kids. Your kids. No. No this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Jake felt his heart racing as he silently cried in the middle of his childhood bedroom. His hand came to cover his mouth, minimising his cries to a silent but painful whale. He couldn’t lose you like this. What did that nurse mean when she said you had a stroke? 

But out of everything Jake had been told he knew one thing for sure as he tried to pull himself together off the floor and get back to you as soon as he could. 

That there never had been a Banff trip planned.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional l @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #tw: stroke #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun fanfic #maverick top gun

[lazybutsmexy]

Tea

Simón "Ghost" Riley X GN!reader

Warnings: ANGST, hurt no comfort, mayor character death(s).

A/N: is... is this what I chose as my comeback? I'm sorry, I hope to be able to write something fluffy soon.

Read on AO3

"...Ghost?"

"...Yeah?"

Your eyes are locked to the sky. The hues of gray that prelude an autumn shower used to comfort you. Strangely enough, what's most comforting to you at this moment is hearing your Lieutenant's voice answer you back, from somewhere to your left.

"...I have a confession to make."

"...Go on."

You inch your head sideways, trying to peek a glance at his face, but the stiffness of your neck prevent you from doing so. Maybe it's for the best. From the corner of your eye you can see part of his hip and his right leg, over a carpet of dark red that you don't need a creative imagination to think about its nature, or its origin.

You saw him get shot.

"I'm the one that took your last tea bag," you offer, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd get so grumpy about it."

A low sigh reaches your ears, and you can catch the hint of an almost imperceptible stutter in his breathing.

"...Never suspected you," he hums, every word calculated as if it could be his last -it may as well be, "you don't drink tea."

"No, I don't," you agree, "but you do." Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth once again, as it has happened for the last few- minutes? Hours? Who knows anymore? "I wanted to surprise you with-... with a cuppa when we got to t-the safehouse..."

You clearly should've followed his example and kept your sentences short, you think as your diaphragm painfully struggles to keep your lungs filled with oxygen.

"...You make shit tea though," he grumbled - now you can clearly hear the wheeze hidden in his breathing.

"... would've made it wi' luv," your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you try not to think of the amount of time you've gradually lost sensation in your body. Instead, you try to peek at him again as you hear a slow ruffle of movement, and this time an ungloved hand comes to your field of vision.

Open face up. Inviting.

You don't think twice and muster whatever little strength you have in your body to move your left hand closer to his.

If the struggle makes you tear up, you don't care. If your pained whimpers break his heart, he doesn't comment on it.

He just grasps your hand as soon as there's skin-on-skin contact, thankful that there's still warmth on your fingers.

Fading, but still there.

"...Didn't say... I wouldn't drink it."

"...Yer' too kind, sir..." Your ears feel like padded in cotton, but you can still hear yourself. If you had any energy - or air in your lungs - you would laughed at how much you started sounding like Soap. "...'s an hon'r to be wi' you, Lt..."

Several seconds passed in silence, and you think you won't get any more answers, and mentally prepare yourself to close your eyes one last time.

But there's something happening with your hand in his.

One squeeze.

Pause.

Another squeeze.

And a last one.

"... waited too long to tell you," his voice reaches you again, watery and choked up, " hope tis' works..."

Go figure, you still had tears to shed. Or is it the rain droplets finally landing on your skin? You don't know. You don't care.

You try to reciprocate, but can only apply three soft squeezes with the pads of your thumb on the soft muscle between his thumb and index fingers.

The choked up sob you hear is a good guess that he received your reply.

"...'m sleepy," your whisper reaches him, and he mourns the lost time.

He's never void of regrets, isn't he?

"...g'night, luv," he tries to sound warm to you, always.

"...g'night, Simon..."

Oh, how sweet his name sounds, coming from your lips in a whisper.

Taglist: @warenai @queen-of-hearts-lemon-tarts @embers-of-alluring

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#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #gn reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod angst #simon ghost riley angst #... sorry😔

[demontonic]

Ethan Landry - Perverted 2

I know it took me forever to finish this but its finally here! Read part 1 if have you havent already! This is it though i dont think ill be making a part three but heres my masterlist if you want more from me

word count: 3990

tw: blood, fighting, knife play, alcohol, dacryphilia, ethan is plowing through you idk what else to say

A month, one whole month and you had yet to tell anyone of what you saw. It was nearing halloween, more people started buying ghostface costumes unbeknownst- or rather in their own ignorance- the victims of woodsboro were amongst them. The uprising of the ghoulish mask had the group on edge, that being the original five as the others didn’t even flinch at the sight. Ethan had been getting closer and closer to you, going so far as sneaking into your room while you were awake, asleep, studying, showering. In a way you were flattered, amused by his boyish antics but there were times you had realizations that he was- no is a killer. At first the noise of your window sliding open followed by footsteps had you reaching for your knife, or any object you could defend yourself with. Now when you hear it, sometimes you don’t even acknowledge him until he speaks, questioning your behavior, lack of honesty, or even your mood.

At some point you convinced yourself he was trying to collect more information on you. Typically you could gather a lot from social media, or just being friends but you had avoided him so much, now was his time to get to know you. He told himself every time you crossed his mind it was purely for the end goal, but he knew you were twisted. He could tell by the way you never told anyone, or how you would react to him creeping through your window. There were times where he would leave, and wait on the fire escape until you fell asleep to go back in and just lay next to you, imagining a domestic life where he didn’t have a bloodlust. A life where he didn’t meet you the way he did, a sweet fairytale story to tell your future kids. He’d make sure he was a better father, never picking favorites and raising them right. You being his stay at home wife, going out everyday to provide for his family that he would love. Coming home at night and sleeping next to this beautiful being that he felt so normal around, but he would always have to leave and dream of waking up next to you.

Today was no different, you’d wake up, go to your classes, have lunch with the group, and then go home- or so you thought. Today had been slightly different, the entire university buzzing with comments about a halloween party. Like normal you had assumed you were going to stay home as you did for most parties and events. In your Literature course Ethan had decided to sit next to you, whispering a little too close to your ear about the party. He wanted you to go with him, and the group of course but he talked about you dressing as a princess as he would be a makeshift knight. Your face burned at the suggestion of corresponding outfits but you declined saying you most likely wouldn’t show. You noticed the immediate change in his demeanor, something that you had seen multiple times. He could be sweet, quiet, soft, well spoken, or he could be harsh, sharp tongued, quick witted, and stern. It was a real Jekyll and Hyde situation, at first it was frightening but now it was just a matter of knowing how to combat his remarks.

“You will look best in a burgundy dress, the color against your skin will be absolutely stunning” his breath fanned against your ear, voice dropping to the one you assumed he used when he made the calls. Ethan’s voice was as strong as the gaze he held, you felt it linger as the warmth of his body left yours. It almost made you shiver, almost refusing to meet his dark eyes knowing you’d be met with the void that accompanied this version of him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” you dropped your pen on the dark wooden desk before averting your eyes to his. First they held that dark void that came with the demeanor, but a few seconds after they went back to warm doe eyes you had first become infatuated with. The ones that stared at you from the floor of your room when you were half asleep finishing schoolwork. A sigh left his chest, almost unnoticeable if you hadn’t known his body language inside and out.

“It’s rude not to… please come to the party tonight it’s gonna be fun,” a crooked smile found its way onto his lips, his teeth peeking out slightly. You looked back towards the professor trying to fill the blanks from where you had stopped taking notes. “I’ll think about it Ethan, I wouldn’t even be able to get a dress such short notice- I don’t even like frat parties to begin with-“

“Stop whining and try to have fun, I don’t like crowds but it’s gonna be a one time thing,” he assured you as he stared at your hand scribble on the paper. Ethan always found himself tuning out to the sound of your pen writing on paper, the smell of your perfume, shampoo, chapstick. He even became accustomed to the tinge of weed under the coconut and vanilla body spray you favored, it was your scent, every product you used. The candles you lit, the oils you put in your diffuser, even your favorite drinks like vanilla frappuccino with coconut milk, or coconut water, vanilla milkshakes- he almost had a whole journal just for you.

“I said I’ll think abou-“

“Please”

Pleading? Asking? Begging? No, it was a demand disguised as a question to make it seem like you had a choice. Did you? Of course, you were a grown woman who could make her own decisions. No matter how he looked at you with those pretty brown eyes you stood your ground.

“I will think about it”. Alarms buzzed around the room signaling the end of this afternoon class, luckily it was your last class today. You quickly shoved your materials into your bag before weaving through the crowd of students, surely losing Ethan in the process. He was a stubborn little shit sometimes as you’ve come to notice, it made you feel special. With others he was a pushover, too scared to say no and always just doing what he was told. With you he felt comfortable voicing his opinions, speaking his mind, you were far past him whispering empty threats into your ear late at night. Now you talked about what he would be doing if he wasn’t doing the whole ghostface shitshow, if he hadn’t followed the ways of his father whom he’d yet to reveal. Some nights he asked about you, your childhood, aspirations, fantasies and then sometimes you would try to talk him out of following through. He’d always laugh and tease you about trying to be his savior, and falling in love with him but maybe it was he who’d fallen for you. Through the fog and the rain, you’d sparked a lantern within him, if he’d follow was still a decision he’d yet to make.

Arriving at your shared apartment the girls sat in the kitchen talking about the party. Sam had been long gone as she went to work, Quinn helped Tara figure out the pirate-esque outfit she was to wear. It was odd however, the redhead pulled a tight lipped smile with a slight tilt of the head before Tara fully turned to you. The smaller girl ran to capture your abdomen in a hug and then jumped in front of you excitedly.

“You didn’t tell us you and Ethan had gotten somewhere!” She practically vibrated in place, waiting for you to spill some details with eager eyes. Quinn had sat down, watching the exchange with her head resting in the palm of her hand.

“That dork actually had the balls to ask for some help,” she said in a gruff voice, you assumed she was tired from her classes although it felt entirely wrong. Jealousy couldn’t be it. She had plenty of guys basically at their knees for a chance with her. “Help? With what exactly I don’t under-“

“The par- Oh my gosh! Did he not ask you yet? Were we supposed to wait?”

“He asked me to the party Tara don’t worry, I just said I’d think about it- BESIDES I don’t have anything close to what he wants me to wear… Where are you going?” You placed a hand on your hip, eyes following the small brunette as she pulled a bag up from the couch.

“Oh no”

“Oh yes”

“No”

“Ohhh yes!”

It was 6pm, time had blurred together as Tara was busying herself with getting you ready. You both decided it would be the easier route to straighten your hair, and to go with a simple eyeliner and mascara than a full caked face. On the daily you made the effort to apply mascara and eyeliner but Tara suggested a pop of color to which you reluctantly agreed. You knew once you got there you’d be splurging in the variety of alcohol they undoubtedly had so opted for a matte red lipstick. Within that time you had discovered Ethan had been in cahoots with Tara and Quinn for the past two weeks in order to have your ‘costume’ ready. The whole thing made you feel wrong, like you were being pampered for him, after all this was his money you were wearing. A part of you however felt like a high school girl getting ready for her first date, maybe over time you had grown a deeper passion for him. You spent more time together than you had even stopped to realize before. Besides that you hadn’t minded him sneaking into your room almost every night like some forbidden love. It was forbidden in all reality, it was wrong, sick, insane, but the sweet boy had weaseled his way into your heart. So as you sat here sitting in front of your mirror, spraying some perfume and patting down your hair, a smile made its way onto your face.

You held open the door for Tara, Quinn opting to stay home with her latest catch, you two started walking to the frat house. The cool air against your body helped as your heart was beating so fast you thought you’d pass out. All dolled up for a man that was burdened with sins you didn’t even remember at this point because all you could think about was not making a fool of yourself. Walking into the party was a hard task, you were already irritated from the pushing and shoving you made a beeline for the hard liquor. Tara had gone for something lighter and assured you it was okay to split up since Mindy and Anika would be with her. Chad had texted you once Tara told him you had made it, so after you had a cup of malibu with a drop of pineapple juice you started to make your way to the boys. By the time you got there half your cup was empty, in all honesty without it you’d be a shaking mess. Chad had grabbed you before you could confront the bitch you had jabbed her heel onto your foot. He always knew you were hotheaded, never scared to scrap with a random chick for fucking with you so he had to be your voice of reason.

“You just got here, try not to get kicked out so soon,” he joked as he walked you over to the doorway they’d stationed at. “Besides, lover boy has been waiting so patiently for you,” he whispered in your ear, playing it off like he was looking behind you. Ethan stood there in his nerdy cardboard costume, a bucket shaped ‘helmet’ on his head paired with a crooked smile. His eyes however held something mischievous, you hadn’t noticed until Ethan put a hand firmly on your waist that Chad left you two alone.

“I was starting to worry that you stood me up, especially after I bought this for you. I hope you can forgive me for taking things into my own hands, I wanted to spend at least one normal night with you.” Ethan spoke next to your ear over the loud music, it was almost too intimidating for you. One hand was on your waist, and the other loosely holding your wrist like he was scared you’d leave him. You laughed nervously before downing what was left in your cup, setting it down on the nearest table.

“It would’ve been rude to reject your gifts, besides it wouldn’t hurt to go out every now and then.” You placed your hands on his forearms, trying to hold your composure as everything felt so overwhelming. His eyes were sharp, like he was trying to read your expressions as if they were hard to decipher. Both of you were still in each other's presence like you were basking in the meld of your auras. For a moment it felt comforting like there would be no consequences and maybe it was the full cup of alcohol or the scenery but you want nothing more than to feel his plump lips against your skin. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for a red headed bitch completely inserting herself into your short conversation.

“Oh my god Ethan Landry with the basket case, what a match made in hell. Two losers made for each other, how disgusting!” Audrey, you knew her name purely because she had been a lowlife that thought too highly of herself. She had tried to get Ethan to be her lap dog in a few classes, always batting her eyes trying to get him to do her essays. He never went for it, he wasn’t some stupid jerk off dying to hump her leg like most of the male population on campus. You had been itching to ring her by that orange hair of hers, especially now.

“Oh get over yourself, you’re just a ran through whore clinging to whoever you think you can push around. Honestly it’s a bit sad how all you have now is some fake tits your daddy bought and loose pussy.” To say you shocked yourself would be an overstatement, but you didn’t expect all of it to come out so easily. Hell even Ethan looked at you as you practically ended her college reputation. The surrounding people catching on slightly to the tension turned the music down so they could tune in.

“I think you’re just mad because you’re a sad pothead with no future.”

“I think you’re just mad because you couldn’t get Ethan to do your work because the fumes from your hair dye killed your brain cells.”

“I’m a natural redhead!”

“Okay fire crotch watch how you talk to me before I check your attitude.”

“You won’t do shit you suicidal bi-“

The whole room gasped, the air felt too hot for you, you almost didn’t feel the impact on your knuckles. Ethan tried to hold onto you but you tore away from his grasp too quickly and before he knew it you had punched Audrey. For a moment you thought you drew blood, but you quickly realized it was the fake blood from her half assed vampire costume. She tried to get back at you but she tripped over her hooker heels and practically fell onto you. Of course you shoved her back onto the floor, everyone laughed at her pathetic attempt at a comeback.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, you should take a nap baby.” You laughed as you watched her slowly rise from the wood flooring. Tears streamed down her face as her head hung down, too embarrassed to face the crowd.

“You’ll pay for this you bitch.”

“Oh boo, you whore!” She walked out of the room, the music quickly returning to its eardrum shattering volume. Ethan was leaning against the door frame by the time you made your way back to him. He had his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watched you walk back, his hands quickly resting on your hips.

“I’m not saying you didn’t scare me a little but… that was kinda hot.” Thank the higher beings for the colorful lights, your face was so red from both the heat and Ethan. Your chest swelled with pride as the serial killer applauded you for taking a swing at that stuck up bitch.

“Someone had to do it eventually, so will you come downstairs with me for a drink?” You pulled on his ‘chest plate’ as he nodded, following closely behind you. After a few shots and strong drinks Ethan had convinced you it was time to leave before you ‘got into any more trouble’. You weren’t hammered but not sober either, so of course he walked you to your apartment.

“How fun I get to walk through your front door this time,” alluding to all the times he’d climb through your window.

“No one ever said you couldn’t, I think the girls would’ve actually gotten a kick out of it.” You smiled as you walked through the door, already going towards your room. However before you opened it you realized Ethan had stopped following you. Instead he leaned onto the wall before your door, looking at you expectantly.

“Don’t act shy now Eth, you’ve been here how many times?”

“I told you I wanted one normal night.”

“Well if you ask me I think I preferred you just coming in through my window, no invitation required.” Again, his demeanor changed as his tall frame straightened and walked towards you. A small tilt of his head and then suddenly he was kissing you, it was rough, demanding, dominant. One of his arms wrapped around your waist before he reached behind you and opened your door. You stumbled back as he slammed it shut, locking it too before resuming the sloppy kiss. He walked you backwards towards your bed, lifting you easily by the hips and tossing you down softly. The diadem on your head was pulled off and placed on your side table, his helmet had been long gone, laying somewhere on your floor. He quickly pulled his chest piece off and threw it somewhere, shocking you in the process as his abs peeked from under the long sleeved shirt he wore under it.

“So you like the psycho killer version of me better than an econ geek?” His question sounded breathless, both of your faces flushed as he knelt between your legs. You dress barely stopping at your upper thighs, his hair messy and tangled from your hands.

“If I say yes, are you going to kill me mister ghostface?” You asked just as breathless as he was, a smirk plastered on your lips as you watched his expression mirror yours. You almost miss it, his god-like features distracting you as he pulls out a knife, pressing the tip to your throat.

“Of course not baby, I’d never hurt you, I’m just trying to figure out what you’re into.”

“Well this is kinda doing it for me if that helps.” He smiled before trailing the blade all the way down between your thighs, severing the straps of your panties. He didn’t pull the fabric off, not yet anyways, instead pulled his shirt off before leaving dark hickeys all over your neck and collar bones. Your fingers tangled in the mess of curls as he made his way across your exposed skin. Quiet sighs leave your chest as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body. His hips began to grind against you, the rough feel of his jeans caused you to shiver under his herculean body.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but the rest of your clothing had been tossed to the floor. Ethan's face was settled between your thighs as you neared your third orgasm. He was fucking you with his tongue as his thumb stayed on your clit, harshly overstimulating you. Your thighs couldn’t even squeeze around his head at this point, they rested on his strong shoulders, shaking and trembling. Tears were welling up in your eyes as your back arched off the bed again, crying out his name as you came on his face. He sat up, crawling closer to you as you trembled underneath him. All he did was smile softly, his canines poking against his lower lip. Your eyeliner had run down your cheeks, your hair tangled and frizzy.

“You look so pretty crying, shaking, and begging. I should’ve been fucking you like this every night for the past month.” As he spoke he traced your face lightly with the tip of his knife, his cock slick with precum as he rubbed it against your clit. Your legs shook with every move he made, you were far beyond overstimulated; this was insanity. You weren’t even sure if you were forming proper words as he began to slide his thick cock into your sensitive cunt. Your nails scratched at his v-line, no doubt drawing blood from his pale skin as he bottomed out. He hissed as he quickly drug his blade across the top of one of your hands. It was a small thin slice barely even bleeding, you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t watched him do it. Anyone would’ve pulled their hand away but it just made you dig your nails deep into his hips. He tossed the knife onto the floor and grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them against your chest as he began to rock slowly in and out of you. Your head dropped back on your pillow as your mouth opened in a silent whine. His lips held a smirk as his pace sped up, head dipping down to your neck as quiet whimpers left his throat. You started crying as you felt another orgasm building from his rough pace, you bit down on his shoulder since your dry throat could barely let your moans out. He groaned at your action and seemingly went faster, you pleaded against his hot skin but he only kept on. Once his hands left your wrists to hold your thighs apart, your nails clawed down his back. The moans coming from him sounded so heavenly, almost pathetic despite him having full control.

He pulled back from you, fully sitting up but his brutal rhythm was unforgiving. He held your hips off the bed as he plowed into your throbbing cunt. Finally a stutter in his pace as he neared his orgasm. He groaned, his head falling back as his thrusts became sporadic causing your body to move upwards on the bed. Your hands braced against the wall as he lost himself in the build of his climax. You cried out into the dim room, your pussy clenching around him as you came. He fucked you until you were squirming under him again, he pulled out and came onto your stomach moaning your name lowly. Ethan stilled for a moment, until finally his hands dropped your thighs and he laid next to you. He pulled your leg onto his waist, pulling you against him as you both tried to catch your breath. Your hand rested on his waist and your head on his chest, it was finally calm again.

The next morning when both of you woke up, you walked into the living room to find the entire group. When they noticed you two together it was like they snapped out of a daze. They joked about how it took way too long for either of you to make the first move. It didn’t take long however for the dread to settle back in as the news reporter spoke of two college students being murdered last night.

@hana-1235

@i-do-be-vibinn

@meh-karma

@cumbermovels

@acornacreacure

@c0untryclub

#Spotify #fanfic #ethan landry #ghost face #ghostface x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x you #ghostface ethan #ghostface smut #ghostface #ghostface x you #demontonic

[crazyk-imagine]

I Have to Follow my Heart

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Addams Witch!reader

Characters: Addams Witch!reader, Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams, Joseph Crackstone

Briefly mentioned: Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams, Uncle Fester, Thing, Enid Sinclar, Bianca Barclay, Eugene Otinger, Tyler Galpin aka the hyde, Marilyn Thornhill (Laurel Gates)

Warnings: Supernatural fight, reader has visions, powers, mentions of Uncle Fester’s electricity powers, sacrificing oneself (more or less), bits and pieces of the last episode, the battle between Joseph Crackston and Wednesday, Xavier gets reader a phone, friends going through a tough time, Xavier and reader going through the motions of Wednesday’s theory

Word Count: 2,032

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At times I wished I had the same emotionless expression as my “cousin.” One might ask why I put air quotes around the word, it’ simple. 

Her uncle Fester happened to stumble upon myself and mother’s violin when I was merely three months old during one of his “adventures”. 

As I previously said, I wish I could copy her expression, especially now. You slam your journal shut, turning to look at your clock. 

You grab your jacket and exit the room, making your way towards Xavier’s art shed. Your mind is blank but thoughts float around your mind, you wonder what it is he wanted to talk to you about. 

With Wednesday firmly believing that he is the hyde, it makes you more weary of being alone with him… in the woods but if you can talk to him in his safe space so he doesn’t “totally freak out” as Enid would say, you believe it would do you good. 

“Do you believe me?” Xavier spins around to look at you. 

You gulp, this is not where you saw this going right after entering the shed. “I don’t- I don’t know,” you say, giving him your honest answer. 

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s either you believe that I’m not the monster or you agree with your cousin,” he hisses out the word you’ve grown accustomed to calling the pigtailed girl. 

You ignore his gaze and opt to look at the floor. “I- I,” the thought you had written down in your journal crosses your mind. 

“I don’t think you’d do all these things, but you have to admit the evidence she has does make it highly possible for you to be the hyde.” 

He furrows his brows, face slowly becoming more void of emotion. “If you really believe that I’m the monster then why are you here?” 

You raise your head. “I- I needed to see it for myself.” 

“See what?” He asks with a tired tone. 

“I- what’s that?” You point over to the sketchbook with a flower bookmark sticking out of it. 

“That- that’s nothing. Why is that important now?” He’d never admit it out loud, but he was always impressed with how your attention could be drawn elsewhere within a second, even if it isn’t the most appropriate time for this to happen. 

You ignore him and walk over towards it, opening the page to find a drawing of yourself playing your deceased mothers’ violin. You reach for the flower and find yourself thrown into a vision. 

How odd, Wednesday’s the one who usually experiences these, at least from what you can remember. It is also weird how whenever she would have one, you would pass out. 

Eugene’s screams flood your mind. 

The cave where the monster hides is on fire. 

The hyde’s wide and red rimmed eyes. 

Red boots… red boots? 

-

You wake up, blinking as your eyes adjust to the moonlit room. “How did I get here?” 

The numerous footsteps echoing throughout the hallway draw you out of bed. 

You open the door and listen to the scared and panicked shrieks of the other students, rushing over towards the railing you find the red aura of the siren song on the lower floors. 

Crackstone. 

Your head snaps over towards the side. You furrow your brows at the sight of a pale dressed Wednesday, not your cousin but- “Goody?” 

She nods. “You must help her.” 

“Help who?” 

“The key.” 

You remember the pigtailed girl mentioning this to you, you know exactly who she’s referring to. “Where is she?” 

“I am going to her now, but you must guide her.” 

“Guide her? Guide her how?” 

“His black heart will end it… I must go to her now.” She starts to disappear. 

“No, Goody. Wait!” You sigh and look down. 

Bianca’s head snaps up. 

You block her song and search for a window. At times like this, you’re happy you’ve climbed the walls of the school.  

 -

You stand on the edge of the roof just before the upper hallway where you can see Bianca and a few others. You don’t feel good, something’s going on with the black-haired girl, the urge to scream is on the tip of your tongue but you fight it as you protect the students. 

You place a temporary shield around the area, preventing the fire from reaching any of the students and jump down. “Crackstone!” 

He turns to you, the evil look in his eye should send shivers down your spine but you don’t let it, not wanting him to harm anyone. 

“Another one. How nice.” The revived Joseph Crackstone taunts you. 

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?” 

He aims his magical staff at you, luckily you are able to block it. “I am ridding the earth of you abominations!” 

“You’re an abomination too!” 

“Lies!” 

“Your descendant raised you, brought you back from the dead!” 

You spin around, avoiding his magic. “You have magic! You are now the very thing you despise yourself! How can you get rid of what keeps your heart beating at this very moment!” 

“I am doing what should have been done years ago.” 

“You’re going to die, and your magic will not be able to save you.” You raise your hand, trying to telepathically pull the staff away from him. 

“Stay away from her.” 

Why does this voice sound so familiar? 

The arrow flies past your head, in front of the resurrected man, only for him to use his magic and flip it. 

You cannot let it hit him or anyone else and put yourself before him to stop it. You spin around, landing on your back unable to catch your breath. 

Xavier runs towards you, lifting your upper body off the ground. 

“Get the others out of here,” you tell him once you can breathe again. 

“What?” He furrows his brows, mouth curling in disbelief. 

“You need to get the other students out of here. We cannot lose anyone else.” 

“I don’t-” 

“I have to help her,” you whisper. 

He helps you up, “I don’t like this idea.” 

“Good thing,” you snap the arrow and chuck it onto the ground. “You aren’t going to be here to see the rest of it… be careful.” 

“You, too.” You push him away when you sense Joseph aiming the damn staff at you. 

You stand beside Wednesday. “We have to aim for his-” 

“Heart, yes,” she cuts you off. “I didn’t realize you were aware.” 

“Let’s say, seeing the dead does have its perks at times. I expect no tears from you at my funeral.” 

“Don’t-” 

Xavier turns at her shout, his heart drops. 

You run at him as Bianca stabs the man in the back. You rub your hands together, thankful for Fester teaching you how to use his trick now more than ever. You hold him in place and call out for her. “Now, Wednesday!” 

She lifts the sword and stabs him in his black heart. 

You can’t remove your hands from him, not until he fully disappears even then you fall, eyes closing. 

The hands on your shoulders and whoever’s attempting to do CPR bring you out of your quick reenergize nap. 

You open your eyes and give three a tired smile. 

The artist helps you sit up and continues to hold you even as Wednesday wraps her arms around you. 

You smile and kiss the top of her head, letting her know it’s over (you hope, unless Nevermore isn’t done with you all). 

She forces herself off you, letting Bianca and Xavier help you up. 

You nod to the siren. “Let’s go find the others.” 

-

The four of you walk out of the school, searching for the waiting party. 

You lean against the boy throughout the entire walk. 

He hasn’t said a word to you, and you don’t know what you could say to him other than, “I’m sorry.” 

Enid rushes over to hug your cousin, giving you a moment to talk to him. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I believed you were the very thing that would terrorize the school when I shouldn’t have. I should have followed my heart.” 

“I think I can forgive you. I mean, you did take an arrow to the shoulder for me.” 

“And I would do it again if it meant I had your trust.” 

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt over my trust.” 

“I should have listened to you.” 

The corner of his lip’s tugs upward, “yeah, maybe. But now that you’ve saved the school, I think I can understand where you were coming from.” 

“No, don’t do that.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t just brush it off, I know what I did wasn’t the nicest or most respectful thing to do when I’ve known you and have been your friend for three years. I know you; I have for years, and I shouldn’t have let someone else’s theories get into my head to ruin that trust.” 

He nods, tucking the hair blocking his view behind his ear. “I’ll take that into consideration.” 

Your lips twitch, “that’s all I ask.” 

Enid rushes over to you, hugging you not nearly as tightly as your cousin but enough to let you know how much she cares about you.

 -

You leave Wednesday to finish her novel while Thing finishes packing for her. You wonder around, waiting until it’s time to leave. 

“The feeling of eyes on me brings a chill up my spine and not in the fun way,” you think. “That would be a good thought to right down when I return to my room.” 

You turn, facing the stairs to find him watching you which may be creepy to some, but you find it to be rather sweet. 

He waves and leans against the railing. 

You walk up the stairs, wanting to talk to him before your dragged out of here. “Are your parents coming to pick you up?” 

He shrugs, “probably not… I got you something.” 

“Really?” You raise a brow. 

“It’s not much but it’ll be faster than the letters." He lifts the lid off the box, showing you your new phone. 

“Don’t expect a call,” you inform him, not wanting to hurt his feeling. You must really care about him if you’re taking his feelings into consideration. 

“I’m not.” 

You squint your eyes at him, “seems you know me well.” 

“That and,” he tucks his hair behind his ears. “I know you don’t like new things… at least, until you get the hang of them.” 

“I guess we’ll have to see about this then.” 

“I believe in you.” 

“I trust that you’ll have a normal summer?” 

“It might be fun if I get a phone call.” 

“Don’t push it.” 

He smiles, having a feeling that you’ll learn to use the phone faster to call him. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. I’ve decided to let it heal on its own.” 

“No magic?” 

“I believe it would be wise to save my energy. I have a feeling we’re just getting started with Nevermore and all it has to offer.” You take the phone out of the box and hold it. “How do you use this dark box you call a phone?” 

He chuckles, taking it from you, “why are you calling it a dark box exactly?” 

“It’s painfully obvious.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that. I already programmed my phone number in here. What exactly you were looking for?” 

“I want to send you my aunt Morticia and Uncle Gomez’ address. I will be staying with Wednesday and her family this summer; we believe it would be wise if we stay together.” 

“Okay,” he shows you how to use the phone. 

“I cannot guarantee I’ll be able to remember all of this.” 

“As long as you can turn it on and remember to charge it, you’ll be alright,” he assures you. 

“Do you know if you’re ability can work over the phone?” 

He shrugs. “I’ve never tried before.” 

“Perhaps it could be our summer activity?” 

He nods, not at all hiding his smile when you said, “our activity”. It seems as though there’s a chance for him to ask you out in the near future. “Maybe.”

#wednesday #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe imagines #wednesday series imagine #wednesday series imagines #wednesday imagine #wednesday imagines #xavier thorpe x #addams reader #xavier thorpe x addams witch!reader #xavier thorpe x wtich reader #xavier thorpe x witch!reader #xavier thorpe x witch reader #xavier thorpe x addams reader #crazyk-imagine

[mikeysbabygirl]

Old g Black dragons pleasuring you, is it possible pretty please ? 😍

Ps : I'm a huge fan of your writing, and dead girls tell no tales IS the best Haitani brothers x reader out there, mwah mwah

𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

Synopsis: when your roommate, Wakasa learns you don't know how to pleasure yourself, him and his friends to the rescue!

Pairing : Fem!reader x Wakasa Imaushi, Shinichiro Sano, Takeomi Akashi, Keizo Arashi.

Warning : 18+ minors DNI. Smut, dirty talk, use of nicknames, pussy drunk! Black dragons, mention of virginity, consensual recording.

Note : thank you so much 😩 I hope you'll like it, I know it's been a while since I got this request in my inbox along with the Draken one, I just made my back to school and college is really tiring, but I'm trying 🖤

You were holding back your hissy fit with a slippery hand, the headphones on your ears weren't enough to cover the sounds of your roommate and his friends.

-" She told him to wait 'til she's back from the restroom, dude waited for hours and turns out she snuck out of the backdoor " seemed like that one's Takeomi's voice.

Their laughter made you grit your teeth, clench your pen tighter in your hand.

-" She had an emergency... " Shinichiro huffed, sinking deeper in the sofa where he was sitting next to Takeomi who recalled the Sano's last " date".

-" yeah, like the nineteen previous ones... "

Benkei. Couldn't they just move in their friend's room ? Why did they have to sit and watch the TV when they clearly saw you were studying on the living room's table ?

-" Should think 'bout paying a sex worker, instead 'f paying the weekly subscription for the porn mag' "

Last but not least, ladies and gentlemen Wakasa Imaushi, your roommate, god's test for your patience, and the main reason why you could ever fail your exams. It is okay to bring friends home, you yourself bring ones sometimes. What is not okay is him bringing his friends so many times that you knew those three like the back of your hand. You knew for fact what would follow will violate the poor guy's privacy.

-" You're full of shit, I don't have any porn magazine... "

-" Spare me. You forget to hide them everytime you're done jerking off. Everyday. "

Were you a psychic ? No, they just strangely hang out at yours and Wakasa's place very often.

The sound of you pushing back the chair brought their attention to you, you turned toward them and tilted your head.

-" Could you stop ? I'm tryna study. And by the way, his sexual life is none of your business. "

Your roommate's lips curled in a smirk upon gaining a reaction from you, Shinichiro's cheeks heated from being the center of the attention, and the two others looked at Wakasa.

-" Why ? Did what I said got to you ?"

Narrowing your eyes toward him, you glared at Wakasa but Takeomi answered before you had any chance to.

-" You takin' it too far dude..."

Takeomi was the wisest of the three, only fair that he stood up for you.

Well you thought that, but Wakasa scoffed, he knew Takeomi better, and knew his best way to get into a girl's pants was to playing it nice.

Unlike him, who believed fondly, and since day one that he could pull you by playing cat and mouse.

All of this, and still you were unaware of the fact that every man in that room could not keep their eyes for them everytime you walked in the room.

-" Yeah ? Was I too rude ?"

You could not ignore the mockery in his tone, Wakasa leaned on his elbows, void eyes on yours and the living room seemed to shrunk.

-" Did I offended you by implying you would give yourself some pleasure ? "

Your mouth fell agape and cheeks heated, though you refused to meet anyone's gaze you could see Shinichiro's eyes widened and Benkei holding a smile.

You could not believe he would say something like that, first you two never been beating around such topics and moreover, his damn friends were there... Your hands quickly reached for your books on the table.

-" I'm out of this conversation."

-" Ain't you adorable with that blush of yours ?"

Benkei. You shot him a death glare. What part of privacy they don't understand ?

-" I'm not blushing. "

-" Yeah you do. "

The snake, being none other than your roommate started serpentining toward you, your shoulders curled the slightest bit when he walked around your chair to stand behind you, putting his hands on top of it.

-" or maybe is it because... You've actually never done it ?"

Your silence, and the way you sunk deeper in your chair were enough of an answer for them, as almost all of their faces took a shocked expression, Wakasa leaned closer toward you, brushing his plump lips against your ear.

-" It's a personal choice, okay ? Now cut it out, that's embarrassing. "

Through your peripheral vision, you could see all of their eyes on you, concern showing through, and soon your attention was stolen by Wakasa's hot breath hitting your skin.

-" What a shame... " behind his voice was left a trail of goosebumps on your neck , faux sympathy so obvious it cut through his tone. You failed to notice Takeomi throwing his cigarette and making his way toward you from behind, because of Wakasa's voice echoing again.

-" Bet this cunt never came a single fucking time ".

-" is that true ?" Takeomi's voice startled you, you turned only to figure out they both were, the devils standing on your shoulders, a scene which could almost be comical. " Never creamed ? Don't ya know your roommate's the best at making girls feel good ? Didn't they told you 'bout how nice it is to cum ?"

His breath, heavy with smoke as intoxicating and addictive as his words, then switching to the lavender haze of Wakasa's eyes, a point where his gaze turned from unsustainable to intensely consuming, a point where you knew you'd let him intoxicate you.

-" Can I... "

Your breath hitched, because that damn Wakasa Imaushi brushed his lips against your cheek, closing his eyes and inhaling your perfume.

-" Can I see it ? Check your tight pussy real quick ?"

And when you opened your eyes, they fell on Shinichiro's ones, and the interest you read on them ignited a thousand wildfires in you. As much as you'd like to deny him, his words left footprints on your mind, one's you were dying to follow blindly. Your eyes turned to the one you trusted the most between them, your roommate, biting your lower lip and giving Wakasa the urge to bite it himself. You couldn't believe you were at a hairsbreadth of giving in, what volatile opium could possibly have you that intoxicated on their words to squeeze your thighs together at the simple thought ?

-" Yes. Yes you... You can". Words slipped out of your mouth, almost as if your body took control of its own desire, dropping all reason aside and fighting with swords of lust the rationalism.

Your approval fell as an order, almost instantly, you found yourself into his arms lifting you as if you weighted nothing, and Shinichiro cleared the couch just before your back got laid there gently.

They all gathered around Wakasa who found his way between your legs, sliding your pajama shorts and panties, uncovering every inch of your skin to their adoring eyes.

-" be my good girl and spread these legs for me, wontcha ?"

You threw your head back, following Wakasa's order and meeting eyes with Takeomi who was standing behind the couch. You began spreading your legs carefully, avoiding their gazes, and a grunt left Takeomi's lips all while his his calloused thumb came to caress your lips.

-" So obedient already... " He praised, sliding the tip of his finger inside your mouth.

-" Ya really should see, princess has the prettiest pussy I've seen " you could feel him grin against you, breath hitting your folds and making you squirm, you didn't noticed Benkei until his hand landed on your stomach.

-" Shhh, relax f'me. " He sat up next to you, hands starting to slide under your tank top. " Is this okay, pretty girl?"

You were none but a meer puppet on their strings, with so much demons around you luring you to their tempting sin, how could you even do anything but nod in approval?

Shinichiro gulped down while Benkei stripped you of your shirt, finding yourself thus all exposed to the boys. You had barely the time to feel self conscious, since Takeomi's thumb left your lips, only to be replaced by Wakasa's lollypop.

-" Keep it in for me, 'kay princess ? Got something sweeter down there".

He lowered himself again, this time licking a stripe upon your folds and letting your natural scent lure him closer to you.

-" Oh god !"

Your arousal coated his tongue and he tasted you on his buds, humming and taking a shaky breath out of you.

-" been hiding this sweet pussy from me ? How selfish... "

He ignored his own hard on, pushing his tongue deeper in you and causing you to fist the couch next to you. It was all too much, from Benkei's large hands groping your mounds, to Wakasa's ministrations beneath you.

-" So fucking soft " Arashi's lips grazed your ear, and you granted him with shivers upon your skin, Shinichiro who stood further away since the beginning started shyly making his way toward all of you.

-" and already so wet... " Your roommate's voice vibrations caressed you with the tenderest goosebumps. " Did thinking 'bout Shin jerking off got you so wet ? "

As heat rose to your cheeks, your gaze fell on Shinichiro who kneeled next to you on the ground, shy hand reaching for your thigh. His touch was as gentle as him, a meer butterfly on your skin along with his star-studded stare.

There wasn't any single inch of your skin their hands did not touched, and for those who they did not, their eyes set on fire. All of them drinking on your body and getting high on lust.

-" She's so pretty... " Shin's raw voice hit your skin right before his lips landed gently on your thigh, you arched your back, pushing deeper against Wakasa's tongue and Arashi's hand.

-" hm, better than I ever expected... " Right there, a wave of heat crashed against Wakasa's body, trading his usual jaded eyes against widening ones, noticing how your walls clenched around nothing. " Hm ? Turns you on to hear I touched my cock thinking 'bout your body baby ? What a dirty slut you are... "

-" Prettiest whore ever"

Amidst the blaze, it was hard to understand it was Arashi's statement, he mumbled, mouth around your nipples. Even your hands were a lot in the mix, mind too deep within the pleasure of tongues and hands to think about where you should rest them.

-" how pathetic, she's drooling everywhere" Takeomi pulled the lollipop out of your mouth, leaning closer to your mouth. Lost in pleasure, your glassy eyes rested on him. " How 'bout I keep this mouth busy, babydoll? Can I taste you?"

And you agreed, mindlessly giving the last remnants of you to the burning wind of them. Takeomi tasted like tobacco, something about his fleshy but soft lips was addictive, blowing hot and cold, sucking on your lips here and biting them then, like ocean waves pushing and pulling you.

-" this mouth feels so good " he breathed against your lips once he pulled away, and none of them, not even Wakasa who was under you could prey their eyes off of your face, teary eyes and whimpering lips. The latter inserted a finger inside you, pumping slowly, but then your hand flew to your mouth, covering the prequel of unborn sounds and he frowned.

Wakasa reached for your hand, and in a rather tight grip pinned it above your head.

-" hold back again, and I'mma fuck you, tied up. Got it ? "

Broken sobs were the only answer he got, fairly he seemed satisfied.

-" You scared the pretty, Waka " Benkei chuckled, hand discreetly pumping his length while the other was still squeezing your breasts. The cold amethyst rings of your roommate drifted slightly toward you.

-" 's that right ? Is my princess scared of daddy ?"

Contempt dripping from his tone, you ignored him and focused on the feeling of the second finger he added inside you. There was a knot forming in your lower belly, tightening every time he grazed your lips, thus making you unaware of the filthy things Takeomi was whispering in your ear.

-" can't stop thinking 'bout how these lips would feel 'round my cock, babydoll... "

Insidious indeed, the way their words slipped under your skin and poisoned your senses, how every one of their fantasies lured you into temptation. Wakasa's body betrayed him for the first time, making him buckle his hips against nothing at the feeling of your walls closing around his fingers tighter.

-" Damn, dude. She's clenchin' o'mme "

The green eyes of the one above you widened before he chuckled.

-" Oh yeah ? Wanna lemme fuck your throat baby ?"

-" Yes, jus'... Just do it " you closed your eyes and arched your back, feeling your high at the tip of your finger's reach. Hand grabbed the blonde locks of Wakasa who grunt at the tightness of your grip.

-" How 'bout... How 'bout I make you cum ?" The first time hearing Shinichiro's voice got you lifting your head abruptly, looking into his half-lidded dark eyes, then toward the visible stain in his tight pants. " Can I be the first to be inside you ?"

His dark hues laid a crimson sparkle over you, promises of passion snaking around your body until choking on your own desire. Next thing you knew, Wakasa reluctantly pulled out from you and was replaced by Shin, all while Takeomi's tip nudged against your lips, smearing the precum along. Curiously licking the arousal of the scarred man got their already hardened shafts throbbing from pleasure.

-" Uh, feels so good " Shin threw his head back, sinking inch by inch inside you. All thanks to your roommate and how good he prepped you, the pain was nearly unborn before the pleasure of being full replaced it all. " You so perfect, can't believe my fuckin' eyes ".

-" R-right ?" Takeomi stuttered, also sliding deeper in your mouth, you tried unconsciously relaxing your throat and taking as much of him as you could. " Babydoll's too damn good for only one cock "

The next seconds were a blurry chapter, stained by hands and mouths, stuffed with praises and sugar coated words. They gravitated toward you like planets around their sun, craving the heat. Or more like moths to a flame, running gladly to their fatal end.

A flame they however ignited themselves. And truth be told, they got you swimming in a bottle of emotion, with mind-blowing kisses and dulcet touches, you've never felt so loved, worshipped as a goddess and desired as the forbidden fruit.

-" yeah, just that way... " Takeomi praised, caressing your hair and wiping some tears from your eyes, with every thrust of Shinichiro's hips against you, your voice caressed his shaft deliciously and sent him higher.

-" 's way too tight, this pussy's a damn vice... Can't get enough " the Sano's eyes drank in every crumb of you, and sunk deeper within the lure. Never has he felt such a lust and he felt it devouring his guts, although the need of closing his eyes and focusing on his sensations was there, Shinichiro got mesmerized by you, just your sight like cigarette ashes dusting his mind, God was it hot.

Arashi didn't see it coming, until you gripped the pain in his guts. He nearly was sent to overdrive by your soft hand around his obviously bigger length, stroking it and taming his raging despair.

-" Shit- " he swore, thrusting in your hand that you tightened. " Can you feel what you doin' to me ?"

You could only nod, hollowing your cheeks to welcome more of Takeomi.

Like smoke of that blaze around, time flew by, then grandiose was the eruption. Takeomi was the first to let the thunder roar in his lower parts, pulling out just before painting your breasts white. Your meer sight milked him dry, swearing he'd never came that much.

Shin was soon to follow, flying you high with him and carrying you through the delicious loss of gravity. You clenched around him so hard while cumming that he thought he would easily come again.

-" Babe- Fuck relax, this too fucking good-"

Your cries were music to their ears, but Arashi, the strong and big Benkei was no more than a violon you played, making him hit the highest notes with your tender hands until he came with strangled moans, burying his head and bliss in your neck.

-" That was damn... Wow" he chuckled, thumb grazing your heating cheeks as you shyly closed your eyes.

In a hell of a room dripping with sin, an angel coated in desire and surrounded by devils. What they saw was art to the root, white ropes dressing your breasts, hair like sunshine sprayed around a beautiful wild gaze and swollen lips, you were spreading fetch, and were a holy evil seeping through each and every one of them.

-" Princess, eyes on me".

Turning your still unfocused gaze toward Wakasa, you've been swallowed in the epiphany, seeing the camcorder he was holding.

-" 's it okay if I keep this ? If I keep you in ?"

You loathed how the idea of him preciously keeping that record talked in such a tempting language to your heart. Biting your lower lip, you tilted your head to the side.

-" would you... Share it with other people ?"

Oh fuck, he had thought. A man as unmoved as a mountain found himself thrown and blown by a whisper from swollen rosey lips. The fragrance of your perfume, your teary eyes and dazzling beauty intoxicated him into the need of a kiss, leaning towards you, he captured your lips and grunt against your mouth at the blissful feeling.

-" look me in the fuckin' eyes, and dare saying I'd let anyone ever see how precious my princess looks " he gripped your chin, mindless of his friends watching and panting hard from their mind-blowing high. " Not after tasting you. Bitch you're addictive ".

A giggle erupted from your lips, sparkling your already pretty face to them and glowing under their eyes.

-" you can only keep it if you stop being so cheesey ".

Wakasa's gaze darkened, turning indigo under the living room's light. Takeomi who was just done unzipping his pants placed a kiss on your cheek, while Arashi found himself behind you.

- " He's not cheesey " tough hands which were not strangers to throwing fists and drawing blood gently cupped your hair, taking it into a ponytail before kissing your neck. " He's just pussy drunk ".

-" You've done so well for us" Shin was next to find your lips, letting his mouth linger a little longer on yours before pulling out, staring at you with star dust in his dark sky eyes.

You went for standing up, leaning on your elbows but a shocked gasp traversed the barrier of your lips when Wakasa's rough hand pushed you back on the couch, resting on your lower belly.

The purple haired man leaned closer toward you, jaded bored eyes building a whole new gut devouring feeling in your stomach. His gaze drifted toward your bare body, making his cock throb with pain before he focused back on your eyes.

-" Did I said I was done with ya ?"

Your eyes widened, painting an invisible smirk on his face.

-" What... ?"

-" Did I stutter ? " Getting closer to you, he buckled his hard on against your bare skin, grunting along with a gasp coming from you. " Ain't letting you go before I'm stretching this pretty pussy real good ".

He swallowed you whole with his deep hues, taking in the blush on your cheeks before he freed himself from his pants and underwear. And the minute those hit the ground, a new wildfire rose inside you.

The white leopard, in all its majesty standing raw in front of you. Pumping his cock twice before closing the distance between you two, his other hand flew to your forehead, pushing your hair away.

-" Daddy's gonna go down on ya until your fucking legs are sore. Have ya walk around the apartment with my cum dripping from your cunt".

I'M HIDING THAT WAS SO AWKWARD! I've never wrote a smut with more than one partner and I'm such A BITCH THAT I DIRECTLY JUMPED INTO WRITING A FIVESOME ? REALLY ?

Anyway... ANYWAY.

I hope it was fun to read, anon !

Next will be a Draken request ( finally ) then a Mikey request from one of my dearest moots, goodnight !

Network : @tokyo-ballroom @downtown-roponggi

#tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers spoilers #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo revengers angst #rindou haitani x reader #bonten x reader #ran haitani x reader #wakasa x reader #wakasa x y/n #takeomi x reader #takeomi x you #wakasa x you #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x y/n #benkei x reader #benkei x you #benkei x y/n #black dragons x reader #mikey tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x you

[babybluebex]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at london comic con, naptime for joe’s son interferes with joe’s panel. luckily, joe has a fix for the situation. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!joseph quinn x um!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: fluff fluff fluff ab dad joe bc lcc is giving so much kid content it’s driving me wild, joe’s son’s name is anthony 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: listen, @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown and i have this longstanding au going where you and joe have a son and i NEEDED to write it, especially with all the pictures of babies and kids that we’re getting this weekend :)

By now, everyone on Twitter knew that Joe had brought you and his son to London Comic Con. You and Joe had been spotted entering the convention center on Saturday, tiny 4-year old Anthony in tow, and everyone was waiting for some sort of content with the three of you. Joe didn’t share too much about Anthony online, only the spare picture to his new Instagram every so often, updating his eight million followers on Anthony’s antics, but little Anthony was known and beloved. 

So far, the day had gone well. You stood off to the side and entertained Anthony as Joe took pictures with fans, stopping during every break to get the snuggles and kisses in— Anthony required many Daddy snuggles and kisses, and every twenty minutes, two minutes were allotted for Joe to kiss Anthony’s head, inquire about what he was watching (the answer was always Bluey), and promise more time in the future. You hated how hectic the convention was and how quickly-paced it was, but that was the nature of the event. It was fun to watch your husband interact with all of his fans, and some even spotted you and sent waves and coos towards you and Anthony. 

Eventually, time for Joe’s lunch break came, and he held Anthony in his lap as they both ate their sandwiches that you had made (the upside of a con in London meant no hotel rooms, and your boys got to sleep in their own beds), peanut butter dotted on Anthony’s little mouth as he babbled away at Joe. “So big, Dada!” he exclaimed, stretching his hands wide. 

“Yeah, lots of people, aren’t there?” Joe chuckled, smoothing down Anthony’s thin curls. Anthony resembled Joe to a tee, some baby photos that Joe’s mother had showed you a dead ringer for your son, and Anthony’s big brown eyes widened as he nodded. 

“And they’re all here to see you,” you told him, and Joe scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “I think they’re here to see you.” 

“Me?” you asked. 

“Yeah, my fans love you,” Joe told you. “Everybody today has told me to say hello to you and Anthony. And some people asked about Wes too, actually.” 

You smiled and leaned forward to kiss Joe’s cheek, and your husband blushed under your lips. “I’m so proud of you, Joey,” you told him softly. “You’ve worked so hard for so long, and now… It’s all happening.” 

“And I get to do it with you,” Joe said with a watery smile, and he looked down at Anthony in his lap, still watching Bluey on your phone. “Both of you.” He ruffled up Anthony’s hair and smoothed them down again, an anxious habit that he had picked up recently, and Anthony looked up from your phone and smiled a big, toothy grin at his father. 

“It’s almost naptime,” you said, looking down at your watch, and both of your boys whined and grumbled in protest. Anthony usually didn’t make a fuss over naptime and gladly settled in bed with his blankie and fell asleep for at least an hour, but you knew that the energy and excitement from the con would interrupt his schedule. You had anticipated this, and you pouted as you tugged your son up into your arms. “I know, baby, I know,” you told him. “But you’ll get all sleepy and cranky later if you don’t nap.” 

“B-But Dada!” Anthony said, and he wriggled in your arms, reaching out for Joe. You willingly transferred your son into his father’s arms, and Joe kissed Anthony’s wiggly little head as Anthony added, “Wanna stay with ‘ou, Dada.” 

“I want you to stay with me too,” Joe said, his bottom lip pouting out. “But you need to nap, and I have stuff I’ve gotta do.”

“What?” Anthony asked. 

“Well, I have a panel in a few minutes,” Joe told Anthony. “People ask me all sorts of things, and I answer them. It’s usually very fun. But I can’t bring you, bud.” 

“I mean…” you started slowly. “You could. Just hold him in your lap and let him sleep while you answer the questions. If you want, that is. Or I can just take him back home to nap and we can come get you at the end of the day.” 

“I can hold him,” Joe said, rubbing Anthony’s back. “We’re just gonna cuddle while you nap, aren’t we?”

“Cuddle?” Anthony asked, and Joe nodded. “Okay. Blankie?” 

You nodded carefully and slung off your backpack, opening it and searching through all of your stuff, Joe’s phone and wallet and keys and snacks and all of Anthony’s various accessories, and you finally extracted his fluffy blue blankie. It certainly had been fluffy at one point but, after four years, the fluff had been matted down and it was a little off-color, no matter how many times you washed it. But it was Anthony’s favorite blankie, the only one he slept with, and Anthony cuddled it up to his chest instantly as soon as he got it in his hands. “Thank you, Mummy,” Anthony mumbled, nestling his head under Joe’s chin, and your heart skipped. 

“Of course, baby,” you told him. “Are my boys ready for the panel?” 

“Anthony’s first panel,” Joe chuckled. “We’re ready.” 

Joe carried Anthony (and his blankie) to the stage, smiling and waving at fans as he passed them, and he seemed calm and cool. It was only once you got backstage, in the wings of the stage, that he started to seem nervous. “Is this a bad idea?” Joe asked. Anthony had his head rested on Joe’s shoulder, his brown eyes flagging with after-lunch sleepiness, and he yawned and cuddled up closer into Joe’s chest. “I-I mean, is it unprofessional?” 

“He’s your son, darling,” you told him, adjusting Joe’s jacket to lay right and settling his curls right. “Everyone will understand. And anyway, it’s super cute, and nobody will care if it's unprofessional if it’s cute.” 

Joe nodded, and he rubbed Anthony’s back as his name was announced by the moderator, and you watched Joe walk out onstage, holding his microphone in one hand as he held Anthony in his arms. Instantly, the auditorium was met with coos and aws and cheers, and Joe waved at everyone before he sat down on the small sofa that was provided for him. He mumbled something to Anthony and kissed his head, and your son turned to look at everyone. He waved for a moment, just long enough for everyone to cheer back at him, and he turned back and buried himself in Joe’s chest. 

The crowd died down, and Joe brought the microphone to his mouth. “It’s naptime,” he said, his voice echoing around the room, and he added, “We’ve got our blankie, I think Ant’s gonna suck his thumb, and he’ll be asleep in no time. But I’m excited, let’s begin.” 

Everything Anthony did was met with applause and aws, every moment and wiggle and cuddle into Joe’s warm chest. Joe answered every question with poise and humility, laughing when someone said to say hi to Wes, and Anthony mumbled something that was half-caught by the mic. “Unca Wes?” he mumbled, and Joe frowned, shaking his head. 

“No, no, Uncle Wes isn’t here right now,” he said softly. “But we can see him when we’re done here... It cracks me up that you guys know who Wes is.” 

True to his word, Anthony popped his thumb in his mouth and was asleep within twenty minutes, and Joe noticed it. “Oh, bless him,” he said. “And we’re asleep here. If we’re very quiet… maybe he’ll stay asleep…” Joe paused for a second and kissed Anthony’s head, and the boy didn’t stir, and Joe said, “Yeah, and he’s knocked out. He can sleep through anything at this point. He gets that from me.” Joe laughed a little, making sure that Anthony stayed asleep, and he said, “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

That happened often. Joe would be too distracted watching Anthony sleep and have to have the question asked again, and he flushed and mumbled, “I’m sorry, you guys, he’s just… Parents will understand, he’s only this little for so long. Sorry, I’m sorry, what was the question again?” 

Finally, the time for the end of the panel came, and the last question took Joe a second to respond: “What are you most proud of in your life?” 

“Well,” he started. “I’m proud of myself for a lot, if I can say that without coming off as a douchebag. But my own accomplishments pale in comparison to my wife, she… She’s amazing. I’m constantly in awe of her and all that she’s done for me, all of the late nights she spends with our son while I work, supporting me and loving me and… But this little guy. He blows my mind every day. Even as he’s sitting here, napping, he’s so much more than I ever could have imagined my son to be. I never anticipated being a father, and now I am, and even though it’s been four years, I’m still not used to him and I don’t think I ever will be. He is so smart and beautiful and… Yeah. I’m proud of Anthony. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

You smiled and, as soon as Joe came offstage, you pulled him into a kiss. You felt Joe’s hands twitch underneath Anthony, obviously wanting to embrace you as he kissed you, and you pulled Anthony into your arms to allow Joe to hold you tenderly as he kissed your lips. He sighed into the kiss and touched his forehead to yours, and he mumbled, “I love you so much. Thank you for sticking around.” 

“Of course,” you told him. “I love you too, darling.” 

“I wonder if my mum can take Ant tonight,” Joe mumbled, pulling you back into another kiss. “I need some time with you.” 

“You have more con tomorrow,” you said. “Is tonight good for that?” 

“Any night is a good night for that,” Joe chuckled, and you smiled at his naughty cheek. “I think it’s time Ant has a little sister.” 

“You think so?” you asked. “Whatever you say, Mr. Quinn.” 

“And I do say, Mrs. Quinn,” Joe said. “Let me call Mum and see if she can take the little monster. He was so good for me, he just slept the whole time.” 

“He’s not a monster,” you said with a smile, bouncing Anthony as he yawned and started to wake up. His thumb was popped in his mouth and you carefully pulled it out, and Anthony whined and sucked the corner of his blankie into his mouth. “He’s the most special little boy in the world.”

“He sure is,” Joe said, and his big eyes were full of love as he looked at the two of you, his wife and son. “The best boy ever.” 

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn rpf #joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn rpf

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Hotaru Haganezuka with Chise!reader headcanons 🎐🪴

Warnings: OOC, aged up!reader (will be in their late twenties), foul language from Hotaru, mentions of enslavement, violence, blood, and the setting takes place five years before the main plot of Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer, so Hotaru will be 32 years old instead of his canon age, 37.

If any of the following warnings might be a potential trigger, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something else.

This is a two-part collaboration with @deathmetalunicorn1 featuring the character!reader as Chise Hatori from the anime/manga series, The Ancient Magus’ Bride.

Our inspiration came from the magnificent Haganezuka x reader created by @yuki2sksksk. If you guys haven't check it out, do so because it is amazing and deserve more recognition! :)

Before we begin, here a few words from my dear colleague @deathmetalunicorn1:

"I hope you all enjoy the fruits of our combined hard work on this project. Please stay safe and don't hate us for the cliffhanger :P

With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy! ;)

PART TWO LINK IS HERE

PART THREE LINK IS HERE

PART ONE: HITSUZEN

Being in a romantic relationship with Hotaru Haganezuka is not simple, even after five years of marriage. [First Name] would not have it any other way, though, because this temperamental man makes each passing second worth it. If she was given the choice to go back in time and start all over again, she would still reach out to the swordsmith. 

The two of them were acquaintances in the beginning, connected through Kanamori. [First Name] was one of two medicine peddlers who have set up shop in the village, selling their wares and providing treatment to ailing patients. Unfortunately, the chief was an occasional client due to his underlying medical conditions and old age, but thankfully  his tenacity allowed him to bounce back to his cheerful self with the proper medicines. Haganezuka was the one who picked  up the elder’s prescription when the latter caught a spring cold.

Their first meeting had been…awkward to say the least. 

She had been in the back wrapping up Lord Tecchin’s order in thick brown paper to ensure the corked, glass bottles were protected if the package accidentally fell on the ground when she heard the front door slide open, followed by an annoyed voice calling out if anyone was around. [First Name] promised to be right out, grabbing the parcel and walking quickly to the shop’s front.  There, Haganezuka stood; with his mask on, she couldn’t tell if she kept him waiting too long. 

“Oi. You’re the medicine woman?” He asked curtly. Kanamori mentioned before that annoyed or slightly pissed off pitch in his voice is normal, so she didn’t mind it and bowed to him.

“I am.” She introduced herself with a polite smile, holding up the package. “You’re here to deliver this to Lord Tecchin, yes?” Haganezuka nodded. She gave it to him as she bowed to him again, wishing the swordsman to travel safely. He left without saying another word….and it was a good thing that he did. 

If he could see them, he’d probably scream at the ayakashi hovering just outside of the shop. The wind chimes were enchanted to prevent them from coming any further and causing havoc. But it looked like [First Name] would have to ask the woodcutter to make at least three more to cover the shop’s outside perimeter. Maybe throwing salt twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, might help too. 

These ayakashi, yokai, and the more friendlier ‘neighbors’, have been here since the dawn of time. They exist in the void, in stories passed down from one generation to the next. If they manifest in the human world, feeding on negative emotions, it was [First Name]’s job to purify and eliminate them. 

But they were drawn to her like a moth to the flame because they know…they know  this medicine seller isn’t entirely human nor a demon created by Muzan. [First Name] was something else, something she didn’t want others to find out or else she’d have to move again. She was really starting to enjoy living here, at least the outside of it while her shop was located a block away from the udon stand. 

Everyone was nice to her, and the kids, at least some of them, liked to learn about the herbs she collected or how to use them. The swordsmen and their spouses would always greet her, asking how her day was going or to be careful on her next trip to search for herbs in the nearby mountains. [First Name] prayed that this monotonous yet peaceful life will continue. 

Haganezuka had never noticed the medicine woman until he picked up the old man’s prescription. She wasn’t unusual in appearance or demeanor; [Hair Color] tresses falling past her neck, pulled back in a low ponytail, limpid [Eye Color] orbs. Coiled around her neck on a leather cord was a polished stone necklace with a natural hole in the center of it. She wore a dark green kimono with a yellow obi sprinkled with white spots, the color of the obi matching the ginkgo leaves of her black haori. She wore the same outfit every day. Definitely not unusual unless you’re from a noble house or rich enough to have more than two sets of clothes. 

That brat Kotetsu seemed to like her well enough; he’d seen him and some of the other kids help her gather herbs in exchange for sweets, but she didn’t let them go too far in the mountains, only at the foot or surrounding fields. She acted as a mentor or chaperone to them, patting their heads when they did a good job and stepping in when things got too heated between them, whether it’s about finding the correct herb or something else a kid would be willingly to fight over with a friend.

The other villagers seemed to like her too. Even Kanamori and his wife, and old man Tecchin. He’d hear snippets of their conversation with the medicine woman, like how Kanamori said these words to her:

“Good morning, [Last Name]! Are you heading to the mountains again?”

“Mm. It shouldn’t take me too long this time though. Morinozuka will be giving birth soon, so I’ll be making another patch of pain reliever when I get back. How is your wife, Kanamori? Is she feeling well today?”

“Much better, thank you!” Kanamori said. “She would like it if you’d join us for dinner this evening.”

“Oh. I don’t to impose -”

“We insist!”

“....All right. I’ll close up early once the work is finished.”

“Wonderful! See you then, [Last Name]!” Kanamori waved good-bye to the medicine woman as she turned away and headed towards the gates, a large lacquered box strapped to her back. 

No, he was not spying on them from behind a building. He just happened to be passing by, nothing more than that!

Honestly, Haganezuka isn’t sure what to make of the medicine woman. She was everywhere now - at Tecchin’s estate, traveling the streets to deliver her client’s prescriptions, with the children, and outside of her shop either watering her potted plants or fiddling with the wind chimes. 

He wasn’t sure when it started..when she became a distraction. 

After returning to the village once he’d completed a delivery, he began to seek out the medicine woman. He wanted to know what she was doing; organizing her wares, dusting those shelves crammed with glass jars filled with fresh or dry plants? What is she eating for lunch? Does she take regular breaks from her work, or did she keep going until the sun had gone down and went home?

If she wasn’t in town or resting at home,  he’d immediately assume she went to the mountains and sit outside the sweets shop, munching on mitarashi dango until he saw she’d returned safely. 

And he wasn’t doing all of this because he is worried about an unmarried, young woman who practiced medicine venturing out on her own in a dangerous world teeming with flesh-eating demons. Not at all. Clearly if she can handle almost daily trips to the mountains, she can take care of herself! She doesn’t need anyone to look after her. 

That’s what he’s been telling himself, so why won’t this weird feeling in his stomach go away? Maybe he was sick…that had to be it. He couldn’t afford to get sick now, he’s got work to do, dammit!

Looks like he really has no choice but to go to the medicine woman’s shop. Get herbs for whatever ailment he’s caught, and see that she is safe and sound in her establishment today. A win-win situation. 

However, even after he���d acquired an herbal remedy and took it twice a day as the medicine woman instructed, that bizarre, flip-flopping in his stomach and heart did not go away. If anything, it got worse when he was around her.

He wanted to put all of the blame on her…yet was it really her fault when she hasn’t done anything wrong? Normally he didn’t give a damn what others thought about him whether they were a respected elder or a snot-nosed kid, so what made [First Name] [Last Name] an exception?

The answer to this question came to him at the sweets shop. He had just finished his work for the day and decided to treat himself with several sticks of freshly made mitarashi dango with a cup of green tea, sitting outside on a bench. When he saw the medicine woman pass by with a weary expression on her face, Haganezuka’s body moved on its own, walking towards her and offering the confectionery he was just about to eat. The exhaustion in her eyes perked up at seeing the food in his hand…then uncertainty. 

Like she didn’t want to be a burden and take something from someone, even when that person is willing to do so. 

That’s probably what pissed him off so much that he pushed not one but two dango sticks into her hands before stomping away. He’d hoped that would be enough to calm his thumping heart, to forget about the medicine woman so he could focus on his craft, but that soft ‘thank you’ tumbled from her mouth to his ears…damn it!

If that hadn’t been enough to piss him off and send him packing to the mountains the following day, it was when Kanamori pressed five coins in his hand, saying the money was from their mutual friend. It was the equivalent of the mitarashi dango and tea plus enough to buy an additional stick of the sticky confectionery.  

What is with that woman?!?

He was familiar with the trail up to the bone-white range of craggy cliffs. He’d first pass two rocks stacked on top of each other, followed by the god of safe travels on the right side of the road. He’d briefly pray to it and leave a pretty stone as an offering before continuing the trek.  

He’ll soon see the vast evergreen wilderness stretching from the northeast, the scent of pine needles tickling his nose. Within forty minutes of traversing through the muddy road and wet vegetation, he finally entered the mountain’s gaping mouth. Haganezuka inhaled a deep breath, savoring the crisp air and the mild chill in his bones, already feeling so much better than being confined in the village. 

Carefully removing the straps of his traveling bag from his shoulders, Haganezuka set it down on the ground and began pulling out the tools needed to carefully mine the ores he used to forge the nichirin swords for his clients without severely damaging the mountain’s interior. Double checking that he had everything he needed, the swordsmith allowed himself to forget the affairs in the outside world and immediately went to work. 

He had only removed five very gorgeous pieces of ores when he heard pebbles shifting and sliding coming from inside the cave…as he recalled, he is the only one here. He paused for a moment, reaiming still as a statue for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, resuming the task of obtaining a sixth ore. He braced himself, ready to stand up and find another spot when he heard a low growl. Thinking it was a bear that had made the noise earlier, the swordsmith braced himself for evasive maneuvers and an escape route as he shifted a leg backwards. But when he looked up…all he could see, no, feel, was warmth. A burning sensation. 

Turning around, his eyes widened in horror and confusion as his gaze fell upon the largest lizard he’d ever seen in his entire life. Its obsidian scales glowed beneath the flame that began at the crown of its head to the tip of its tail. Amber orbs flashed dangerously as it stared darkly at him.

For whatever reason, this thing was pissed.

In his shock, he barely managed to dodge a swipe of its claws when it raised its right leg towards him. His clothes weren’t torn, but his mask shattered onto the ground. Haganezuka rolled away to dodge another attack, though this time those claws dug into his back and it fucking hurt.

He pushed his body upwards, scrambling to put some distance between himself and this lizard as the latter crawled towards him, snapping its jaws and the earth beneath its feet melting. He felt his heart hammer rapidly in his chest as its throat began to emit an iridescent glow, growing brighter and brighter behind its rows of razor-sharp teeth. 

“Get down!”

He snapped out of his trance, his eyes widening in shock and confusion as he saw the medicine woman race towards him and the lizard. The thing turned around too, its jaws widening and ready to attack when [First Name] threw a small, circular orb with greenish liquid sloshing inside right into the creature’s mouth. It screeched, throwing its head back as thick wisps of black smoke erupted between its teeth, body swaying until it collapsed into a boneless heap on the ground, right by his feet. 

Although flushed and slightly out of breath, the medicine woman looked incredibly relieved before she looked at him with a pinched brow, anxiety and concern darkening her eyes as she kneeled by his side, removing the large medicine box from her back, setting it down and began opening its drawers, pulling out bandages, herbs, scissors, and tiny glass vials. 

“Thank goodness I made it in time before something happened to you, Haganezuka. Are you alright? Did the salamander bite you? Hm, doesn’t look like it. No damage to your arms or front. Let me see your back. Oh, no. Oh dear, this is not good. I’ll need to use some of this and that, and bandage you up until we get back to the village. Haganezuka, I need you to stay as still as possible for me while I apply this medicine on, all right? It’ll sting, and it might hurt, but that’s a good sign. If the salamander’s claw had dug any deeper, it would’ve been a much more serious injury.” 

He couldn’t speak, his eyes darting between her and the…salamander as the confusion in his mind deepened until he couldn’t contain his frustration and yelled, “What the hell is going on here?!”

She blinked, more startled at his raised voice than annoyed or terrified before she sighed, standing up with her supplies and kneeled behind him. “That was a salamander. As you saw, it can breathe fire like the dragons from those Western fairy tales. I’ve put it to sleep with a draught, but there’s no need to worry now. It’ll be out for several hours. Though, in theory they aren’t supposed to even be here. They normally live at a higher altitude in the mountains or make their nests around volcanoes.” She glanced over at the slumbering beast. “The fact there’s one here is alarming. No one from the village will be safe until it can be safely removed….and its babies.”

“Babies?!”

“Mm. The black ones are female. The scales of their mates are much brighter and colorful…no, more ostentatious. Almost like a peacock’s feathers. Beautiful to entice a potential partner in a dance, but not at all durable. Still…the fact that it showed itself to you….it must have wanted you to see something.”

“It wanted me to see something?” He asked, releasing a low hiss as he felt a stinging, white-hot sensation spread across his back. The medicine woman quickly apologized, squeezing his shoulder briefly before resuming her treatment. “Salamanders cannot be seen by normal humans because they are creatures attuned to magic. They’re what you’d call a ‘neighbor’. As for what it wanted you to see…I don’t know.” She said, carefully lowering his shirt once the bandages were secured around the torso. Her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“She might have known you weren’t a threat, but got scared when you were getting too close to her nest. If you respect the neighbors, they will respect you in turn. There. All done. Now, we need to get you out of here. Are you able to walk all right on your own?” 

He nodded, standing up immediately before he hissed in pain. “Yeah. By the way…you’re not gonna stay here with this salamander, are you?” He asked. She might have knocked it out with that potion, but he was not going to leave her in the mountain by herself. It would leave a bad taste in his mouth, and Kanamori would get pissed at him for supposedly abandoning the medicine woman when that is far from the truth. 

She shook her head. “No. Believe me, I want to help the salamander and its children…but this is a job I can’t do alone. Once we get back to the village, I’ll need to inform Lord Tecchin of the situation and get in contact with a few friends.”

Hagenezuka sighed, running a hand through his bangs when he saw something glistening on the salamander’s right leg. He raised his brow. “Oi. Is that….a chain?” He said. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw [First Name]’s face tense. She walked quickly to where the creature laid on the ground, only to take a step backwards when bright, orange blood began to drip down its scaly appendage. She examined it closely,  leaning forward. He watched in confusion as the shine in those [Eye Color] orbs darken. Whatever she saw, he could tell that the medicine woman was angry. This is the first time he’d ever seen her like this. 

She then stood up, walking past him, collecting his tools and bags, handing them to him before grabbing her medicine box, hoisting the straps over her shoulders. “We need to go while there’s still daylight left. Salamander blood is highly toxic and as you probably saw, resembles lava. It’ll burn anything it comes in contact with.” 

He scowled. He didn’t like being kept in the dark and he knew that this is neither the time nor the place to interrogate the medicine woman. He quickly guided her out of the mountain, following the trail back towards the village. To his surprise, [First Name] went into more detail about these ‘neighbors’. They could not be seen by normal humans, but those that could see them were either chosen to be seen…or selected as its next meal. 

The tales about them, the ones that parents told their children to keep out of mischief, held some truth. As she had explained earlier, by respecting the neighbors, they will respect you in return. But the ones who grow in strength by feeding off of negative emotions were the most dangerous ones of all: ayakashi. 

She can see and converse with these entities because she is a Sleigh Beggy. The simplest explanation of a Sleigh Beggy is a queen bee, drawing others towards her unintentionally because of the power she possessed. The wind chimes around her shop and home were wards designed to keep out the neighbors and ayakashi. If either of these supernatural entities would try to harm the villagers, it was her job to slay the latter and chase out the former. 

As enlightening as this conversation is, Haganezuka only just became more confused. “Right…but what was that shackle doing on the salamander? You said it shouldn’t even be here in the first place. Don’t try to deny it, you were pissed when you saw that thing on its leg.”

He did not miss how her shoulders stiffened nor the quickened pace in her stride. Was she still angry? Or was she nervous? Instead of interrogating her further, he decided to keep his mouth shut and just wait to see if anything happened. Several minutes later, his patience paid off when she inhaled through her nose, exhaling deeply before she shakily answered him.

“That shackle…it was engraved with the crest that I recognize. That salamander was from an illegal auction house. Instead of dealing with rare antiquities or other items that might draw in a very rich nobleman…the auction house sells neighbors. From fairies in the West to mermaids from the oceans, they’ll offer anything their client’s heart desires. But these people aren’t just buying exotic pets to brag about…they’re selling them as magical ingredients for potions, and even weapons to protect their household.”

Haganezuka was torn between feeling sick to his stomach and ready to hit something, but he forced himself to calm down.”And how do you know so much about that auction house?” He asked, gritting his teeth. 

She must have misunderstood his anger being directed towards her and not the despicable people would even think about selling these animals, no, neighbors, to the public so long as they could afford it, because she stopped walking. Her face paled, her eyes were wide with anxiety, and she was trembling like a leaf ready to fall off from a branch. 

He took a step forward and cupped her cheek, using his thumb to tilt her chin upwards so she’d look at him straight in the eye when she answered him….if she was even ready to do that. As far as she might be concerned, they barely interacted with each other until now. When he noticed the color in her face turn magenta, he felt his own face burn with embarrassment as soon as he remembered his broken mask laid in pieces inside the mountain. 

[First Name] swallowed, placing a palm over the hand that was on her face before she whispered softly.  “Because…I had been there… as merchandise. I was the last item of the day, ready to be sold to the highest bidder for whoever wanted a new weapon, a new pet…or a bedside companion. I was young. Fourteen, fifteen years old. The one who bought me was my master. He rescued me, gave me a home, and taught me everything I know about the neighbors, the ayakashi, and…things about myself I still hadn’t been ready to accept. It’s thanks to him that I’ve grown to become who I am today, and the people I’ve met along the way…they’re amazing. I never knew that this world was so big, still so full of wonderful things to see and learn even when it may seem like bad karma is around every corner.” 

Haganezuka felt his heart twist uncomfortably. She had been through a lot, probably just as much as the Kamado boy and his little sister…no, that wasn’t right nor fair to compare the suffering and the pains that these three have been through, separately or whatever made damned sense. He just…didn’t think that someone who smiled sincerely at others carried the responsibility to protect them from unseen forces beyond their comprehension. He hesitated for only a moment, pulling his hand away from her face to cradle the back of her head while the other palm rested on his left shoulder. He felt [First Name] stiffen at the sudden contact, then sagged against him. 

She eventually pushed away, looking at him with a hesitant smile before she nervously rubbed the stone necklace. He watched as she swallowed nervously then turned away from him, trembling fingers starting to rub to the back of her neck. 

“Unfortunately, despite my mentor’s immense power, this is something he could never erase. The auction house…they had a very unique tracking system. Even when the merchandise is bought, a tracking spell will be forever embedded even when the customer is satisfied. Think of it as….a fail safe if their purchase ever decided to escape and couldn’t be found by normal magical methods. No matter where I go or how far I was from him, the master would always be able to find me.”

Haganezuka frowned, opening his mouth to ask what she was talking about when the medicine woman pushed up [Hair Color] tresses, revealing an uneven, dark patch of skin shaped like a serpent eating its tail….no. Wait. This wasn’t something caused from being burned by the sun. He realized. This was created by a branding iron. The medicine woman had been marked like livestock. 

As if she had lesser rights as a human simply because she had been bought by her master. This had to be the same mark she saw on the salamander’s shackle. 

He didn’t know how long he couldn’t breathe or think…whatever he was feeling right now, it felt even more intense than the rage and frustration when he found out that Tanjiro had broken or lost another sword. The only way he had snapped out of it was when he felt [First Name] gently touch his forearm, looking up at him with concern.

Then for the second time today, he hugged her but it didn’t last as long this time. They had to get to the old man, and fast. That was his excuse. Haganezuka didn’t know what the fuck possessed him to act like this but damn it she’d better not breathe a word about this to Kanamori. 

Not. A. Word. 

[First Name] immediately informed Lord Tecchin of the situation once Haganezuka was left in the care of the elder’s doctor. She had, in so many words, explained there was an unidentified poisonous herb growing inside the mountains. Until she is able to determine its toxicity and create an antidote, it was too dangerous for the other swordsmiths to go there. If they require ores for their work, she will be more than happy to collect what they need so long as they stay in the village for three to five days. 

Including Haganezuka, Lord Tecchin is the only other person aware of her true nature though this is only possible…because he had met the master so many years ago, when he had been a foolish and young apprentice. She did not know the extent of their history, only that her master saved Lord Tecchin from a fate worse than death at the hands of a shapeshifting ayakashi. 

Now older and wiser, his main priority was the safety of the swordsmiths and their families. Lord Tecchin immediately sent word out to them all to remain within the village until further notice. She thanked him profusely for listening to her selfish request before departing his residence to make the necessary preparations to handle the situation. She’d asked about Haganezuka, but the tiny man reassured her that the ill-tempered swordsmith is in good hands, so there was nothing to worry about. 

[First Name] checked on him early the following morning at his workshed before she left the village to meet up with the acquaintances she had contacted to safely relocate the salamander and its babies from the mountains. She did use a little of her magic to speed up his recovery once she finished applying more medicine to the lacerations on his back, and she hoped he never found out the truth about Sleigh Beggys. 

The less he knew, the better it would be for both of them. 

Haganezuka couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. He had gotten to the market and purchased a gift for the medicine seller with help from Kanamori’s wife. He told them it was because he felt gratitude towards her for helping him in the mountains, but that is it! Nothing more!

He inhaled a deep breath, grateful that he’d been able to find a new mask so that no one could see just how red his face was right now, standing outside of the medicine seller’s shop. He glanced down at the item in his hands. A potted plant with pale pink flowers. She should like them…right? 

His grip on it tightened slightly before he stepped forward, pushing the shoji door open. He called out to her, and she heard him, yelling from the back that she’ll be right there. He heard the pitter-patter of sandals tapping against wooden floors, followed by a string of apologies as she stepped into the light, greeting him with a smile. He wouldn’t have minded so much if he hadn’t been caught off guard with how exhausted she looked; dark circles under her eyes, her fingers smeared with ink, and even the front of her pristine apron had seen better days. Is she really all right? She had kept her promise and gotten the salamander relocated to a sanctuary within three days, unless something else was troubling her?

“Sorry about that, Haganezuka. How can I help you today?” She said as if she didn’t look like shit. 

He felt his eyelid begin to twitch rapidly. “What the hell is wrong with you?! When’s the last time you slept? Don’t you dare tell me that I work too much on my swords when you look like you’re about to pass out right now! That’s it! Where do you keep tea leaves in this place?!” He immediately began looking around the shop, irritation boiling in his veins as his gaze followed the verdant overgrowth of herbs to a dark wooden cabinet sitting just beneath the window. He scanned the labels on the first shelf, and to his dismay, there were just remedial plants. Nothing that can be used to boil water and make tea for the overworked medicine woman. When he looked back at her, there was a stunned look on her face. Why the fuck did she seem so surprised that someone’s actually worried about her?!

“Why aren't you sitting down yet?!”

“Haganezuka, there are no chairs to sit in here except for the back of the shop, which serves as my workstation.” [First Name] replied softly with a small smile. “I’m still studying the effects of the salamander’s blood samples that I collected, and I’m quite close to producing an antidote. I appreciate your concern, Haganezuka, and I promise I’ll make myself some tea when I go home tonight.”

He pouted behind his mask. Suppose that is fair. He’d never eat or drink in his workshed unless he sat outside on the veranda with sticks of his precious mitarashi dango, which itself was a rare moment of relaxation for him. Instead of trying to argue with her further, he just held up the pot for her to take. He felt his heart race at seeing her smile widen, stretching her small hands and taking the gift from him…

Chink. 

His eyes immediately went to her wrist, where he saw the pieces of a jade bracelet crumbled onto the floor. [First Name]’s eyes widened before her complexion turned a sickly green, her hands trembling rapidly before they loosened their grip on the potted plant. It shattered immediately upon impact, soil and flowers flung in different directions as she lurched forward, hands coming to her mouth as blood spilled between her fingers. She pulled her palms away, looking up at the blood dripping from them in shock before staring at him.

“Huh?”

He watched in horror as she fell backwards and he immediately sprung towards her, barely managing to catch the medicine woman before she landed on the floor. He carefully lowered them to the ground. With one hand cradling the back of her head and the other around her waist, he shouted at her. “Oi, [Last Name], [Last Name]!  [First Name]?! Answer me, dammit, this isn’t funny! [First Name]!”

Haganezuka stiffened when he received no answer from the medicine woman. Heart hammering in his ears and sweat beginning to form on his brow, he shakily inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled with his mouth. As he performed this calming method, he replayed the sound that wind chimes made in his mind for several moments until he could think clearly. He steadied himself, knees bending slowly as he lifted himself and [First Name] off of the ground. He turned, ready to bolt to Doctor Adashino’s hut but his feet stopped moving when he saw a figure blocking the shop’s entrance.

 It was a boy, probably no older than fifteen summers, with lightly tanned skin and black hair with bright green eyes peeking from under sweeping bangs. He was dressed in different shades of charcoal, as if he were conjured from the darkness itself; from the yukata that draped over his broad shoulders to the socks and geta sandals on his feet. The swordsmith did not know why but there was something about this brat that rubbed him the wrong way. 

“What do you want?” Haganezuka snapped, pulling the medicine woman closer to his body. The stranger didn’t seem to notice him, instead he gazed sadly at [First Name], sighing forlornly. 

“You’ve done it again, haven’t you my dear?” He murmured. “You do have a way of causing chaos, even when you have the best intentions in mind for those around you. When will you become selfish and worry about yourself first?” Shaking his head, the boy turned his gaze to him, eyes glowing in the darkness of the shop. “Give me the child.”

Haganezuka felt his left eye twitch. “What?”

“I do not have time to squabble nor do I wish to waste my energy on you,” The stranger snapped, pointing at [First Name]. “She has collapsed from magical overexertion. She must be treated immediately, or her chances of survival will grow thinner. Sleigh Beggy children are not as strong as they used to be.”

A tremor of shock blitzed through his body at the stranger’s words, though thankfully it wasn’t so obvious with his mask on. “How do you know who she is?” He demanded, his mind scrambling with anxiety and memories he could barely recall in this situation, what he’d learned from the medicine woman when they walked away from the mountains that day. “You can’t be a demon. They can’t roam freely in the sunlight as apparently you’re able to, you’re not drooling at the sight of her blood, and they don’t know anything about Sleigh Beggys. Or ayakashi. They can’t be seen by others unless they want to be seen. So who are you? Are you a neighbor, some spirit that pities her? Or are you someone else?”

“Watch your tongue, boy -”

“Where did you buy her?” Haganezuka asked suddenly. The stranger went silent, raising a brow. “When and how did you find out what she is? Did she ask for her freedom or was that bought too?” The swordsmith said, firing question after question. The stranger looked at him with an expression of exasperation and annoyance, his eyes flashing yellow for only a brief moment. 

“For a mere human who had survived the salamander’s wrath, you’re quite arrogant, but fine. I’ll play along.” He said. “I found out who she was from the moment she stepped onto the stage of the Fleeting Petals auction house in Kyoto’s business district, just when spring had arrived. A respectable antique shop during the day, and once a year, the only place in this country where you can find more than enough items to start a private army or create your own harem, whatever suited the customer’s  desires so long as the money rolled in to pay the price. She was the evening’s final item, and I had gotten into a bidding war with two other contenders for her. An alchemist from the East, and a samurai. Both wanted a weapon, I needed an apprentice. It is through me that she knows everything about the ayakashi and medicine.” He crossed his arms. “Is that enough? Give me the child, now.”

Haganezuka ran his tongue over his bottom lip, heart quickening. There is no doubt that this is the master who had bought [First Name]’s freedom. How else would this bastard answer his questions so flawlessly, or even know where she is? The mark on her neck has magic that makes it easy for him to track her down, and it was the one thing he could not remove with all of the powers he possessed. When the shop suddenly became darker, he glanced around, and felt himself grow pale. On the wooden wall closest to him was a looming, horned shadow whose body stretched all the way to the ceiling. It stared down at him with luminous, bone-white orbs. 

No. He didn’t want to give her away. He didn’t want her to go -

He yowled when the shadow suddenly peeled itself from the ceiling, grabbing the medicine woman from his arms before turning towards the master. Now cradling his apprentice close to him even when it looked absolutely bizarre for a child to carry a grown woman, bright green eyes stared at him. 

“I don’t know why she has revealed her secret to you…but you must be something special. Regardless, she will return home with me. You will look after her house while we’re gone. No, I cannot tell you when she will return. This is the length of my generosity, human. Do not disappoint me.” The master and [First Name] were suddenly enveloped in billowing clouds of smoke, disappearing from Haganezuka’s sight. 

It was only a moment later that the swordsmith realized there was a sudden eruption of noise coming from outside, people chattering and some distant echo of hammers slamming against metal.

The front door had been opened this whole time. 

Taglist:

@saltyfruitbat

@13rurururi

@myrisan-melodies

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@sketchlove

#chise!reader #an idyllic novelist #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x female reader #kny x reader #kny headcanons #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #hotaru haganezuka demon slayer #hotaru haganezuka #hotaru haganezuka x reader #ancient magus bride #collaboration #collab work #mahoutsukai no yome #kny haganezuka #kny au

[fatiguing-thoughts]

"Always Bella V"

Read here: Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part IV / Part V

________________________________________________

Despite the anxious picking of my cuticles and the numbing feeling of my own heart beating within my chest, sitting next to Quil in the car brought me some sort of peace. The drive was only about 15 minutes, though it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of blankly staring out the window, hoping to feel anything other than this deep sorrow.

I felt the heat radiate off of Quil's body from the driver's seat. Despite of how unsure I was of how it was possible for him to be so incredibly warm, I appreciated the warmth.

The screeching of my brakes let me know that we arrived to our little spot.

A spot we would hang out since we were kids. I looked out my window and gazed towards the shore, reminiscing of the times we had here together. The memories with Jacob, too.

The feeling of my soul ripped out was one that didn't leave for months. It was as if Jacob left with a piece of me that I couldn't get back.

...But then there was Quil.

It was as if Quil would never leave my side. And to be truthful, I never wanted him to. He was the only person who seemed to almost fill the void that ached throughout my chest every single day.

"Alright, let's go." He murmurs, snapping me out of my thoughts as he nods his head to the woods.

I swallow the breath stuck in the back of my throat and prepare myself for whatever this would be. Whatever this could be.

Quil walks over into the edge of the woods, nodding his head to encourage me out of the car to follow him.

The feeling of nausea came over me as it really hit me.

Why was everything so serious? So secretive? Nothing was ever this serious.

I sigh, unbuckle my seatbelt and make my way over to him. My legs shaking with every step I take.

He reached out his hand, motioning for me to take it.

I grab it, greedily embracing the heat his palm brings to my own.

The walk deeper into the woods was silent, aside from the crunching of leaves and small twigs on the ground.

His warmth radiated from his own hand onto my own, spreading up my wrist. His torso close to my left side as I walked only a mere inches from him, The absence of his warmth was violently apparent throughout the rest of my body.

Quil abruptly stopped and sat us down on a fallen tree, surrounded by countless others towering over us. Normally, I find our spot to be a place of solace, but today it was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

His brown soft brown eyes met mine as tears began to brim the surface. He quickly pursed his lips and looked down at his feet.

"You need to me tell you first, right?" He mutters.

"Yes." I choke out, voice barely above a whisper, slightly nodding my head.

"Alright." He breathes. "Well, Sam gave me the okay.

"So this is about Sam." I spit.

"No, it isn't. Please, (Y/N)... Just hear me out."

I look at him skeptically as I felt a slight sense of anger blossom within my chest. I became aware of my eyebrows slightly furrowing, displeased at the thought of Sam's name.

Quil began speaking. His words turned into this high pitched ringing. It was as if everything he said pierced my eardrums.

He finally stopped talking and

"So, basically-- the legends are real, right? That's what you're telling me?" I ask, raising my brow, with a snarky tone. "And so then not only do you guys turn into massive wolves that kill vampires? Because vampires are responsible for the missing people? They've been killing people? And the Cullens are vampires, but vegetarian?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous." He chuckles.

"Because it is ridiculous! And you're telling me that there is this soul-bonding experience? Imprinting? Quil-- you absolutely need to tell me the truth!" I begin to angrily laugh.

"I am! (Y/N), I promise."

His eyes were pleading with mine, begging me to just believe him.

"Alright, so let's just say this is real. So, Jacob imprinted on me-- and rejected it? He doesn't want me?" My voice broke just saying it out loud.

He looked at my sympathetically, "It's a little more complicated than that, but yes. More or less." His lips pursed as he started at me with sad eyes.

"Is it... is it because of her?"

"Not necessarily. But, it she is definitely a reason." He sighs. "For one, yes he is in love with her. I know that he loves you, though. I know that..." He pauses, looking at the ground with disappointment.

My heart skipped a beat, hearing him tell me that Jake did love me. But then the realization hit me.

"But he loves her more." I croak.

His gaze meets back to mine before giving me a small nod.

And there it was, the knife right through my chest.

"But, truly don't think of it like that. He truly was devastated about the fact that his life has been paved for him-- he didn't want a life where he had no choice." His warm hand reached out to mine. "He can't stop feeling like some monster. He didn't choose to become a shifter and now his entire destiny has been chosen, he didn't want the same for you, either. He wanted you to have a say. He doesn't want you in this world of danger, nor did he want you to feel trapped with him."

"Oh my god, Quil!" I hiss. "Stop pretending the wolf thing is real! Stop messing with me."

"No, (Y/N). I promise. I can show you." He promises, looking me in the eye.

"So do it."

He stands up silently, letting go of my hand before removing his shirt. I notice how much buffer Quil had gotten in the last few months.

"My eyes are up here." He teases with a low laugh.

I blush as I realize I had been caught.

He double checks for something behind a bush about 15 feet from me before looking back into my eyes.

"Don't freak out." He looks at me. "Don't go anywhere, and remember I won't hurt you."

I nod, staring at him with doubt.

But Quil's body began to steam? I couldn't believe how it looked.

He began to almost convulse as he was seemingly ready to burst out of his own skin.

But then he did. He burst out of his own skin and turned into an enormous brown wolf.

"Qu-Quil?" I stutter, my eyes practically bulging out of my skull.

His enormous head nods, whimpering and looking directly into my eyes.

He slowly strode over to me, plopping his head down into my lap for me to feel his fur.

"What the fuck..." I mutter as he lets out a huff.

He pulls his head back, before turning and walking behind the bushes from earlier.

I heard shuffling and within a moment or two, shirtless Quil appears again and walks over to where he dropped his shirt before. He picks it up, putting it on before sitting right next to me.

"Alright." I breathe.

"Yeah. So, there's that." He sighs, looking at me.

"I see."

"Well, now you know it all."

"I guess I do."

I don't know how I was supposed to feel.

But I know I felt so confused. I felt some relief in knowing that Jacob did love me... that what I was feeling had a valid reason. It was abnormally painful because it wasn't normal-- it was supernatural.

But in the end, it didn't make me feel better. It didn't make anything hurt less.

I felt tears prick my eyes before I put my head into my hands. I don't think it was possible to cope with this any differently.

Quil quickly put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing the top of my head.

A wave of comfort washed over to me.

"It's okay. I'm here for you, always." He whispers into my hair, lightly scratching my back. "Always."

Quil always knew how to make me feel better.

In-fact, he was the only person these days who could make me feel better.

"By the way, I don't want to read his letter."

"Thank you." I murmur as I bury my head further into his chest.

"Let's get you out of here. It's not safe." He urges, helping me up after a moment.

"Not safe?" I question.

"Well, the red-head has been coming around. We don't know what she wants but she's looking for something."

"Red-head?"

"Vampire. I gotta catch you up." He chuckles.

"Ah, got it." I say nervously, looking around.

"Don't worry. We chased her back to the Canadian boarder the other night. We probably won't see her for a few days. But the others are on patrol now."

I shake my head in disbelief as everything coming out of his mouth seems utterly ridiculous.

It felt unreal.

The car ride back to my house didn't take long, but even after our conversation I felt just as hollow as before.

He must've sensed my sadness, as he reached out a hand for me to grab.

I looked over, studying the way his knuckles lay on the center console.

I lightly grabbed his hand before leaning onto his arm, pulling it into my own and laying my head on his bicep as he drove.

His feverish skin felt heavenly on my seemingly ice-cold body, Quil was the only source of warmth for me anymore. I was suddenly realizing just how much I needed him.

"Thank you." I whisper, closing my eyes in comfort as I absorbed all of his warmth.

"Always." His hoarse voice barely audible.

The drive back to my house wasn't long, but with my eyes closed the entirety of it, it was as if I had lost all sense of time.

I was exhausted from everything I had learned today... from everything I saw.

We made our way over to the couch, yet again.

The letter fell out of my jacket pocket as I took it off, causing the pain in my chest to heighten. It felt as if the wind was knocked out of my as I saw a glimpse of the handwriting as it fell to the floor.

Quil's face turned into one of understanding as he realized where my focus had turned to.

I pick up the letter with tears in my eyes, clutching it to my chest and sitting on the couch.

Quil quickly followed, sitting next to me.

"Why am I not enough?" I sobbed.

"You are more than enough. You are everything, (Y/N)." He coos, taking the note from my hands and placing it on the coffee table in front of us. He pulled me into his chest before holding me close. One hand on my back and the other on the base of my neck, pulling my sobbing frame into his chest. "Don't you ever say that, you are enough."

"But why is it always Bella?" I choke.

"Believe me, it is not."

"But it is, it's always her! It's always Bella."

"(Y/N), you are everything. Jacob doesn't even understand what he's doing. Please, please do not let this destroy you." He pleads, his voice breaking as I feel tears of his own falling onto the top of my head. "I know it's hard with this bond, but you are so much stronger than you think. You are so much more than you think."

Quil leaned back and I followed suit, crying into his chest as he covered me with a blanket.

"Thank you." I sob, tears soaking his shirt.

"I will always be here for you. I will always be here to tell you how much you are loved, whenever you need it." He promises. "I'll always be here."

I nod, silently thanking him as I wrap my arms around him and accept the darkness of my closed eyes.

His fingers lightly ran up and down my back as he shushed my sobs, trying to soothe me further.

I felt myself drifting to sleep, accepting the comfort of Quil while mourning the loss of a life with Jacob in it.

___________________________________

Read here: Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part IV / Part V

TAGLIST:@stardustcalli@ayyitsxme@xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo@mychemicalimagines@cookiecakeslive@xxrandommexx@queen-of-embracing-uncertainty@nowimapotterheat@adaydreamaway08@moonie-flower101@sillyfreakfanparty@rosefreckles06@robin-witch @amara-75@thebitchwhosalone@justalostgirl@blightwulf@infp-t-rhi@beautyandthemermaid-blog@chieflawyerpastatoad@0i-am-none0@whore-of-many-hot-men@fuzzy-panda@un-poetryy@the-fractured-eye@anne-oop@ilikefruitgummies@decaffeinated–fangirl@mrsjaxtellerfan@avoirlecoupe-defoudre@monkeyluver4546@lucypevensie11@peachykeen3502@le–petit–croissant@thatfictionalwh0re@jesscarreonn@believinghurts@totallylostinfeelings@smileykiddie08@jacobblacksbitch

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If I missed anyone, I am sorry! PM me and let me know!

Thank you for being patient and for reading! I will update as soon as I can! I anticipate a couple more chapters!

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #quil ateara #quil ateara x reader #sam uley #embry call #paul lahote #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #jared cameron #twilight wolf pack #wolf pack x reader #twilight x reader #jacob black fanfic #quil ateara fanfic #jacob black imagine #quil ateara imagine #always bella #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #twilight imagine #bella swan #twilight

[mountain-in-springtime]

somethin' stupid (like i love you)

pairing: sam x reader | word count: 5.3k | warnings: kissing, language, alcohol consumption | my masterlist

summary: you and sam have been best friends for years, but the presence of three little unsaid words could be enough to tear you apart.

author's note: Y'ALL this is my longest fic ever like what is happeningggg?? anyways, this fic is almost entirely unedited aside from whatever grammarly told me to fix lol but i love her anyways. i was unsure of how to format this, and i was kinda worried that it was corny, but i think i'm really happy with this one. it makes me so very soft. also it's based off of the song somethin' stupid, which is one of my songs of all time and is also linked below!

*******************************************************

The icy night air stung your cheeks as it whipped around you, making your hair tumble from its carefully done style, and you were sure that you would wake up with a cold in the morning with the way the weather turned you into a sniffling mess. You guessed it was partially your fault for not grabbing a jacket when you and Sam had snuck your way from the cramped, sweltering space of your high school gym, but in your defense, you hadn’t had a lot of time to think it over. You were laughing and dancing with one of your friends, swaying with giddy delight when you felt a hand grasp your own. After whipping around, you saw that it was your best friend, his expression pleading as he made his request.

“Let’s get out of here,” he had said, and you followed without a single question as to why. Next thing you knew, you were walking hand-in-hand down the empty streets, wandering aimlessly in silence. Occasionally, you would hear a quiet sniffle from him, and you couldn’t be sure if it was a product of the environment or something else entirely.

After many minutes of wordless strolling, the two of you came across a playground. Void of any of the childish giggles and shrieks it usually fosters, it was almost an eerie sight. Still, you went with Sam as he turned toward the old, rusty swing set. The seat creaked as he sat down, and the chain on yours squeaked as it gave with your weight. You turned to your friend, studying the serious expression he wore as he gazed downward and kicked the pebbles that littered the ground below him. 

“You okay?” you prompted, hoping for him to open up. He kept his eyes away from your own but held his hand out beside him. You reached your own out to him, and he linked his pinky with yours. It was a small gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed by you. Even when he was hurting, Sam was sure to give you reassuring bits of affection, making it clear that it wasn’t you he was upset with.

“She dumped me,” he finally said after a long moment. His voice lacked any of its characteristic light, and his eyes stayed trained on the ground. The long waves of his thick hair hung like curtains that obscured his face from your view, something you figured he was grateful for. 

You sighed and reached out a sympathetic hand, resting it on his arm. “Oh, Sam,” you mumbled, “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“I know. That’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. I… couldn’t,” he answered, his voice quiet and strained. 

A moment of silence fell between you as you took in what he had said. “Why?” you finally asked, and you could feel the weight of the question hanging in the air the minute you uttered it. 

Sam let out a long sigh before answering. “Because… you never liked her anyway. I thought if I told you, you’d just rub it in my face that you were right.” 

His confession hit you like a ton of bricks as you say there, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. “Oh, shit, Sam. I… I never meant to make you feel like that. I’m sorry,” you whispered, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he replied through a deep breath. You knew he could tell how bad you felt. Sam was always so in tune with your emotions, quick to lift you up when you were down, but in this moment, you couldn’t let him do that. 

“No, it’s not,” you corrected, shaking your head, “It’s really not, Sam. I’ve been a shitty friend. I thought that I was looking out for you, but I was just being a jealous asshole. I think seeing you so happy with someone else… it made me feel left out, y’know? But that’s not your problem, it’s mine. I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about your relationship, and that’s messed up. I’m sorry.” You turned to face him and were surprised when he was already looking at you. 

His grip on your pinky moved to your entire hand as he laced his fingers with yours. He wore a gentle smile as he shook his head softly. “No need for an apology. I already forgave you, silly,” he mumbled, brushing stray hairs from your forehead. His hand cradled the back of your head and pulled you forward. You sighed softly as his lips grazed your temple. “I could never stay mad at you, y’know,” he said quietly. 

You nodded. “I know,” you teased, “You love me too much.” 

He let out a small chuckle and looked down at you. “You got that right. You’re the best friend I have,” he answered. His arm rested across your shoulder, pulling the two of you close despite the groans of the swings you occupied. You tilt your head up, your chin resting on his chest as you meet his gaze. You wished that you could keep this moment in a capsule and return to it over and over again, but you knew that there was more that needed to be said. 

“Sam? You wanna talk about it? The breakup, I mean,” you offered, not wanting to pry but also desperately wanting to be there for him. 

He gave his head a small shake as he continued to smile down at you. “Nah, it’s okay. I kinda knew it was coming.,” he explained, “She was pulling back. I just tried to ignore it. Told myself I was making it up, y’know?” He said it more like a fact than a question, punctuating it all with a long sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. You looked down at his hand in yours, turning it over and examining his long, slender fingers. You thought about how funny it was that even up close Sam was so beautiful and warm. He was perfect down to each minutia of his being. Your fingers traced along his knuckles, transfixed in the dips and curves between them. You grazed his fingertips and felt the rough calluses that had formed there from years of practice and passion. It was like you had fallen into your own private world as you stared at the canvas of your best friend’s palm. 

A small chuckle from Sam pulled you from your daze, his laughter vibrating through his chest and flowing into you. You wore an expression that fell somewhere between amusement and confusion as you looked up at him. “What?” you asked with a soft giggle. 

He shook his head as he held his fond expression. “Nothing,” he answered, “You look pretty when you’re all focused like that. Your brows get all scrunched, and your face gets all serious.” He tried and failed to mimic your expression, falling into a fit of wild, bubbling laughter.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful look. “That doesn’t sound pretty, Sam,” you chided jokingly, “You make me look like a doofus.” You shoved him lightly, making him only laugh harder.

He shook his head, fighting off his persistent chuckling as he placed his hand on your cheek and tucked a windswept strand of hair behind your ear. “Trust me, sweetheart. You look so pretty right now,” he whispered. Your heart jumped at how shamelessly he said it, making it impossible to not believe him. You swallowed thickly in an attempt to calm your racing pulse. 

“Yeah?” you questioned teasingly, “You’re not too bad yourself, y’know.” Your cheeks felt hot as you said it, and you could feel creeping regret encompass you as you were suddenly afraid that you had gone too far and ruined the moment, but a small laugh from Sam calmed you instantly in a way that only he seemed able to do.

He mirrored your question, “Yeah?” His gaze pierced your own, freezing you in place despite your desire to look away and hide your growing bashfulness. You felt completely bare before him, like he was seeing every piece of you, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it or if you even wanted to. Just when it became too much to bear and you moved to turn away, you felt Sam’s fingers grip your chin, keeping you facing him. “You scared?” He asked quietly, his voice even and sincere.

You hesitated before answering, unsure of what the honest answer was. Your heart was racing faster than it ever had, and you felt like you were seconds away from passing out, but as you stared up at Sam, you had never felt safer. You were scared out of your mind, but you knew that he would never lead you astray. You shook your head. “I’m alright, Sam,” you answered shakily. 

He smiled softly. “Good,” he cooed as he leaned forward, stopping when his lips were only centimeters from yours. His eyes flitted up to meet your own, silently giving you one last chance to back out. You let out a nervous breath and smiled at him before closing the gap between you, hesitantly locking your lips with his. You heard Sam gasp quietly in surprise, and he stayed still for a moment of pure shock before kissing you back in earnest. His hand on your cheek moved to the back of your neck, pulling you close with all of the gentle passion in his body. You squeezed his hand as you sighed softly into his kiss. Everything around you melted away. There was no playground, no icy wind, and no pressure to be anything but yourself. It didn’t matter where this went or what it would mean for you and Sam tomorrow. All that mattered was this beautiful, messy, perfect moment between the two of you as you made your undefined and unexplored love for each other tangible between squeaky swings and shuffling rocks. 

*

Sam may not be right about a lot of things, but he sure was right about one: you really needed to learn to pace your drinking. You stumbled about Josh’s house, placing your hands on empty walls, wobbly shelves, and innocent party-goers in an attempt to steady yourself. Occasionally, you would spot someone you recognized and slur out a desperate “Where’s Sammy?” to which you would get pointed in a direction that never seemed to be where he actually was. After a few minutes of aimless wandering you gave up and decided to make your way to the kitchen. Your stomach had been growling endlessly for about fifteen minutes, and you had ignored it for just about as long as you could in your drunken state. As you crossed the threshold into the kitchen, your foot caught onto a statue near the entryway, sending you tumbling downward. You yelped and braced yourself for impact, but at the last moment, you felt strong hands grip your arm and waist and pull you back up. You mumbled out a quick thanks before turning towards your savior and seeing a familiar face.

“Oh, Sammy!” you gasped, “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” You giggled softly and pulled him into a crushing hug, making it his turn to give a surprised yelp, which was followed promptly by his signature, good-natured laugh. 

“Looking for me? What do ya need me for?” he asked. He kept a hand on each of your arms as he talked to you, making sure you didn’t take another dive toward the hardwood floors. 

You stared blankly for a moment before shrugging. “Don’t remember,” you answered before a look of realization crossed your face, “Oh, yeah, I’m drunk. And hungry.” Your stomach growled loudly, cementing your latter point. “See?” you added, pointing to your belly.

He let out a bark of laughter before he looked at you with a smug grin. “Lemme guess, you didn’t listen when I said that doing all those shots with Jake and Josh was a bad idea, huh?” his voice had a tinge of prideful victory, and it was putting a serious damper on your excitement at finding him. 

You let out a groan and stuck your lip out in a pout. “It’s their birthday, Sammy. What kind of friend would I be if I turned down shots?” 

“A sober friend,” he countered with a chuckle, “Besides, they’re professional alcoholics. No one can keep up with them.” He pulled you into his side and ruffled your hair slightly.

“Hey!” you whined, swatting his hand away from your now-tangled hair, “You know, I think you only say that no one can keep up with Jake and Josh because you’re a lightweight.” You look up at him, wiggling your eyebrows in an act of challenging playfulness. 

He rolled his eyes. “Watch it there, sweets. Don’t wanna bite the hand that keeps you from falling on your ass,” he quipped, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he felt you shift your weight from one foot to the other. 

“Whatever,” you dismissed with a scoff, “You know I’m right, though. That’s why you never drink much at these parties.” Now it was your turn to look up at him smugly, your nose scrunching slightly. 

He brought his other hand forward and tapped the tip of your nose with his index finger playfully. “You wish,” he said with a smirk, “I don’t drink because I know you’re gonna get wasted and beg me for a ride home. What you gotta say about that one?” His gaze on you was triumphant as he expectantly waited for you to answer.

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped as your cheeks flushed, and your face grew into a half-hearted glare. “Can we get Taco Bell on the way home?” you finally asked defeatedly. 

You felt Sam shake with laughter as he nodded, “Sure,” he agreed, “Now, c’mon, let’s go say bye to everyone. Don’t wanna be bad guests, now do we?” You nodded in reply, and he started to guide you out of the kitchen in search of his brothers. Finding them proved to be anything but a difficult feat, considering that all it took to find Josh was to listen for the loudest person and head in their direction. Jake, of course, was right beside his twin, Josh’s arm wrapped affectionately around his shoulders. After wishing them goodbye and a happy birthday and assuring them that while, yes, you’d love to stay, you really did have to go home, you set your sights on finding Danny. He was just as easy to find as the twins, pouring himself another drink and making friendly conversation with some of the other guests. You and Sam bid him farewell and began to make your way out of the house. You clung desperately to Sam’s side as you made it through the living room, and only three extra goodbyes and one near-faceplant later, the two of you had made it outside and all the way to Sam’s car. He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you, helping you climb inside. 

“Thank you, Sammy,” you mumbled, “You’re a real sweetheart.” You gave him an affectionate pat on the arm, which he returned before shutting the car door and moving to the driver’s side. 

“Alright,” he said as he sat behind the wheel, “You ready to go? Got your seatbelt buckled?” 

You gave a gasp of realization, “Oh!” The seatbelt made a loud zipping sound as you pulled it across your body. Sam watched with fond amusement as you tried again and again to click the buckle into place, finally nailing it on your fourth try. “Got it!” you exclaimed, all giggles and excitement. 

He laughed along with you as he backed out of Josh’s driveway and set off down the road. You let the time pass between you, an ever-flowing stream of consciousness pouring from you as you shared anything and everything on your mind. Sam listened to every word, never interrupting or making you feel silly for your drunken rambles. It was the kind of thing that you’d really appreciate and probably comment on if you were a little more sober. 

Eventually, you felt the car slow down as Sam pulled into the Taco Bell drive-thru. An excited squeal left your throat as the car rolled to a stop. He rolled down the window, and a few moments later the metallic voice rang through the speaker, asking for your order. You heard Sam ask for a moment before he turned to you with a lopsided grin. “Alright, what are you having, sweets?” he asked.

You gave a loud, exaggerated hum as you thought it over, staring at the menu through the windshield. “Ummm, quesadillas,” you finally answered, “Oh, and a Mountain Dew, please. A big one.” You held your hands up and mimed the shape of a comically large drink. Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled softly in response, ordering quickly and driving up to the window. You leaned over and reached down for your purse. As you picked it up with a victorious huff, you stuffed your hand inside, fishing around for your wallet. However, your movements stopped when you felt Sam’s hand on your arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told you, shaking his head as he pulled out his own wallet from his pocket. He moved to take out his card but stopped with a sigh as you shoved a few bills his way. 

“Lemme pay, Sammy,” you pleaded, “People are gonna think I’m a gold digger if you’re always buying.” You hoped your attempt at a joke would make him give in, but it seemed that the odds weren’t in your favor as he shook his head again, pushing the bills away. 

“Nice try,” he said as he handed his card to the woman at the window, “Besides, we’re not even dating. No one’s gonna call you a gold digger.” He laughed, mostly to himself, and took his receipt from the cashier. You pouted slightly as you heard her tell him to pull into a parking spot, letting him know that the food would be out in a few minutes. 

You were about to open your mouth to complain about how hungry you were, but when you looked at Sam, the thought was erased from your mind. The glow of the parking lot lights washed across his features, making them seem beautifully sculpted and impossibly soft all at once. His lips looked plush and full as he sang along quietly to the radio, and the way his lashes fluttered with every blink was enough to make your heart beat out of your chest. 

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out with one hand, gently touching his cheek. “You’re so pretty, Sammy,” you whispered as your thumb brushed along the smooth skin of his cheek. He laughed softly and thanked you, but you shook your head, feeling a burning need to make him understand. “No, I mean it,” you insisted, “You’re beautiful. The light makes your face look so good.” You leaned over the center console, craving to be close to him. 

You didn’t notice the soft flush of his cheeks, but you felt his hand grab yours softly and place it back in your lap. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he answered with a small smile playing across his lips, “You look really nice, too. Even if you’re a little sauced.” 

You sigh, ignoring his playful dig at your current state. Your gaze stayed trained on him for a few more lingering moments. “You look the way you did in the playground that one time,” you mumbled, and you felt your cheeks heat up even as you said it.

“Yeah?” he asked, tensing slightly and gripping the steering wheel tighter with his left hand, his right one drumming on the gear shift. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I think about it a lot. Do you?” you asked with such unfiltered candor that Sam couldn’t deny you the truth. 

“Yeah. Sometimes,” he uttered, his eyes staying trained forward, unable to face you. It was only when he felt your soft grip on his chin that he turned. 

“I wanna kiss you, Sam,” you blurted. The words hung in the air, and you desperately wanted to take them back, but it was too late, and as much as you could try to deny it in the morning, they were all true. 

He searched your face for a few seconds, confusion and heartbreak dancing over his features. “No, you don’t, sweets. You’re drunk,” he muttered with a shake of his head, “You’re just getting in your head and saying things that you don’t mean.” His hand firmly but gently gripped your wrist, pushing your hand away. You moved it back immediately, your face holding a look of vulnerable want. 

“No,” you protested softly, “Drunk or sober, this is what I want. I just… I’ve never been brave enough to say it before. Please, Sam, you know I love you.” You leaned forward slightly, praying to whatever powers that be that maybe he would feel the same way, but he only shook his head, placing his hand over yours. 

His voice came out in a pained whisper, punctuated with a shake of his head, “I love you, too.” They were the exact words you wanted to hear, but you never knew how painful they could be. What you thought would be a heartfelt confession became the biggest rejection of your life. You opened your mouth to speak back, to ask why he didn’t want you if he loved you so much, but you were cut off as a woman approached the car, knocking on the window and handing Sam your food. You sat in a terrible silence as he placed your drink in the cup holder and handed you the brown paper bag. He stared ahead for a moment before sighing and putting on a half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Alright, sweets. Let’s get you home.” And just like that, the moment was over. 

*

Hot tears poured down your cheeks, burning your skin and making you choke with every sob. You wiped your nose with your sleeve, not caring how gross you would normally find the habit. Your knees were pulled tightly to your chest as you sat perched on your couches. After a few moments, your breathing slowly evened out, and you took a deep breath before reaching for your phone, dialing quickly and praying for an answer. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard Sam’s voice from the other line, full of cheer and affection. The sound of him alone was enough to pull fresh tears from you, pouring out in loud cries. He responded immediately with concern, “What’s wrong?” His question was simple. He never pushed too far, and it was something you appreciated now more than ever. 

You sniffled loudly for a few moments before answering. “I dumped Austin,” you sobbed, “Can you please come over?” 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do you need anything?” He asked, his answer swift and to the point. 

After a few moments of silent thought, you whimpered back, shaking your head, “No, just get here as soon as you can, please.” Your grip on your phone was tight and desperate as if holding it close would bring Sam to you faster. 

“Alright. I’ll be there soon. You hang in tight, okay? I love you,” he cooed, slowly easing your nerves, making your breath still.

“Okay,” you sighed, “Thank you, Sammy. I love you, too.” You hung up the phone and took a deep breath. All you wanted was to ball back up on the couch and scream, but you decided that you should try getting yourself together before Sam arrived. You were sure he wouldn’t mind if you were a blubbering mess, but it wasn’t like he could help you much if you could barely speak. 

You walked into your kitchen, throwing open your freezer and grabbing a tub of ice cream. It made a soft thudding sound as you dropped it unceremoniously onto the counter and swung the door to the freezer closed. Next, you pulled open the drawer nearest to the stove, grabbing a spoon for yourself and an extra one for Sam. The old barstool that was posed near your kitchen island screeched as you dragged it towards you, and it creaked loudly when you sat upon it. You mentally reminded yourself to look for new barstools and yanked the lid off of the ice cream, scooping a large spoonful and shoving it into your mouth. The sugar truly did little to lift your spirits, but at least it didn’t make you feel worse. At least that was what you were telling yourself when you heard a knock at the door, signaling Sam’s arrival. 

You got up from your place at the counter and plodded to the door. As you opened it and saw your friend’s face, you fell into his arms in a tight, bone-crushing hug. “Hey, Sammy,” you mumbled into his chest. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he answered. You felt his hand splayed out across your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting gesture. After a moment, he spoke again. “You okay?” he asked, his voice full of gentle concern. 

You let out a long sigh. “Yes. No. I don’t really know,” you whined, “I feel so bad, Sam. He had no clue it was coming.” Your head fell forward, landing in your palms as you rubbed your temples in frustration and uncertain grief. You slowly moved back to the kitchen and plopped back into your chair. 

“I thought things were going really well,” Sam asked, following you and sitting beside you at the counter. 

You nod as you take another bite of ice cream and nudge the extra spoon in his direction. “It was. I mean, he was so sweet and nice. He would come to all my family stuff, even when he knew he didn’t have to, and he was always doing all these sweet little things to make sure I knew he cared. Flowers, chocolates, the whole nine yards, y’know? He was the best boyfriend I ever had,” you shared, one long stream of consciousness pouring out of you. 

Sam sat in silence for a moment, taking in what you had to say. Then, he gave a long sigh and finally answered, “I don’t understand then, sweets. Why’d you dump him?” 

It was your turn to give a sigh in response, paired now with a shake of your head. “I didn’t love him,” you said quietly, “I tried. I tried so hard to love him. I mean, why not, y’know? He was a nice guy, the kinda guy I should consider myself lucky to be with. But I just couldn’t do it. No matter how hard I tried.” Tears started to roll down your cheeks again and your shoulders started to shake as Sam pulled you into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to love anyone. You know that? Besides, any guy who’s with you is the lucky one, not the other way around,” he cooed sweetly to you as he gently patted you on the back, swaying slightly. 

You gave a small huff, leaning into Sam’s embrace. “It’s like this every time. I meet a nice guy, and I try to love them, I really do, and it always just blows up in my face. God, what’s wrong with me?” you cried as you buried your face into the crook of his shoulder. 

He shushed you softly, “Oh, now, come on. You know nothing’s wrong with you. You’re the best gal I know, and you shouldn’t try to force yourself to love anybody. That’s not the way to go about it. It’s not fair to yourself.” You felt his head tilt downward to look at you. “What’re you doing trying to make yourself love all these guys anyway?” he asked, no mocking tone in his voice, only a genuine desire to understand. 

“It’s embarrassing, Sam,” you replied with a shake of your head, “I can’t….” Your sentence trailed off and you kept your face pressed against his body, unable to answer. 

He nodded, “Alright. That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just try to remember that things are gonna work out, okay? You’re gonna find someone out there who’s gonna really knock your socks off.” A small chuckle rumbled in his chest as he tried to slowly lift your spirits. 

“No, I won’t, Sam,” you muttered, “I’ve tried over and over. It’s not gonna work out for me.” 

Your words only made him tighten his grip on you. “Now, that’s crazy talk,” he chided softly, “Why would you think a thing like that?” 

“Because you don’t love me.” 

Your words hung between the two of you, Sam being the first to cut through the thick tension they left behind. “What?” he asked, his voice bearing incredulous confusion, “Of course I love you. I tell you I love you all the time.” 

You gave a frustrated groan and pulled yourself away from him. “God, Sam, you just don’t get it. I don’t mean love like that. I mean love. You might love me, Sam, but you don’t want me. Not the way I want you.” 

A painfully loud, blaring silence filled the room as the weight of what you said rested on the man before you. He didn’t say a word, his eyes staying locked on the floor. 

“See?” you continued, “I’ve always loved you, Sam. I thought it was pass, but… fuck, I love you, Sam. And you just don’t love me. You never did.” 

You opened your mouth to say more but was cut short as you felt warm, soft lips pressed against your own. Your body went rigid with shock for a moment before melting into Sam’s kiss. Deep, hungry sighs of relief flowed between the two of you as you desperately grabbed at each other. His tongue slotted itself between your lips, coming to meet with your own as his hands combed through your hair, gentle need filling him as he cradled you to his being. Your hands rested upon his shoulders and acted as an anchor to prove to yourself that this was real and not some sick joke your brain was playing on you. 

After you could hardly breathe and had exhausted yourself in the raw passage of love you shared, you pulled back, looking Sam in the eyes. “I’ve always loved you,” he confessed, “I loved you since that night we kissed our senior year. I just… I was scared. The way I feel about you, it’s bigger than me. Hell, it’s bigger than the both of us put together, and I was scared that if I told you, if I really put my money where my mouth is and just laid it all out, it would ruin what we had. I could never afford to lose you. I still can’t. I just always told myself that I’d do whatever it takes to keep you around, even if it meant I couldn’t love you the way I wanted.” 

You were almost moved to tears at his words as you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. “Oh, Sam, you’re so stupid. Stupid and wonderful. How could I ever not love you? And how could a love like ours ever go bad?” You tilted your head up and kissed him again, feeling so free just to know that you could. 

A loud laugh rumbled through his chest as he held you and kissed you back. “Yeah, I guess love makes us all a little stupid, doesn’t it?” he asked and looked down at you, his playful, lopsided smile plastered to his face. 

You giggled with unbridled delight. “I guess you’re right on that one,” you conceded, “At least we can be stupid together, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, leaning in and kissing you sweetly. You smiled into his kiss, happy in the fact that you and Sam were both incredibly, undeniably stupid and unmistakably, absolutely in love.

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13 @writingcold @sunandthemoontwinflames (send me an ask/dm if you wanna be added to my taglist!!)

#mal writes #sam kiszka #sam gvf #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x you #sam kiszka x y/n #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #sammy kiszka x reader #sammy kiszka x you #sammy kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka fanfic #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet #gvf #Spotify

[anangelwhodidntfall]

I Don’t Want Her, I Want You: Daemon Targaryen

House of The Dragon Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

description: Alicent hates that you have captured the attention of Daemon, and does everything in her power to tear you two apart, while Daemon assures you that you are the one he wants not Alicent. 

No one including Alicent understood what Daemon saw in you...one of Rhaenerya lady's in waiting. At one point in time, you had all been the bestest of friends and now the three of you were practically strangers well not you and Rhaenerya, the two of you were never seen without each other. The two of you had been speaking with some lord who was a family friend of Rhaenerya's when Alicent had inserted herself into the conversation.

"Princess your father is requesting a word with you." Ser Harwin said.

"I'll be right back." Rhanerya said squeezing your hand with a smile before leaving.

It was awkward after Rhaenrya left between you and Alicent, so you had excused yourself and made your way off somewhere quiet to relax until Rhaenerya came back. You found a quiet bench in the gardens and started reading one of the books, you picked up at the market earlier.

"There you are sunshine. I've been looking for you." Daemon said making you look up from your book with a smile.

"You have? What do I owe the honor of Prince Daemon seeking me out?" You asked him as he stood in front of you.

"You know I enjoy your company Sunshine, in fact I got you something." He said reaching into pockets and fishing something out.

"Daemon it's...beautiful. You didn't have to get me this." You said looking up at him.

"Of course I did. You are my sunshine after all, and now everyone will know it." He said to you.

"Will you put it on me? Please?" You asked him moving your hair.

"Of course." He said placing the necklace around your neck and securing it with a smile.

Alicent saw daemon disappear and noticed he hadn't returned and went to go find him. She was walking through the gardens when she heard laughter and that's when she saw you and Dameon smiling and laughing with each other making her green eyed. She hated that she was set to wed Viserys and not to Daemon her childhood crush and she needed a way to rid of you.

A few days later, their would be a celebration for something you weren't quiet sure and neither was Rhaenrya but still you two loved the aspect of getting dressed up and dancing the night away. You weren't sure what you were going to wear yet but knew how you wanted to do Rhaeneryas hair, so you both venutred out to the markets to pick up a few items.

"So are you and my uncle gonna share a dance tonight?" Rhaenerya asked.

"I would like too but I'm not holding my breathe, I'm sure there is someone else he rather dance with." You said toying with pendant he gave a few days ago.

"And that pendant he gave you says otherwise. Do give him a chance won't you?" She asked you as you nodded your head considering her words.

When the two of you arrived back to her room, she found a box addressed to you sitting on her bed, because whoever sent probably knew you would be here with her today. You untied the box and saw the most beautiful yellow dress sitting in there with a matching headpiece to go with it.

"Sunshine I can't wait to see you in this tonight, and hopefully share a dance with you-Daemon."

"And you said that he would  have someone else to dance with." Rhanerya said as tried to fight the smile on your face unaware that Alicent was outside the door and saw everything as the maids came in and out to help Rhanerya get ready.

You were begging to think that Daemon changed his mind about showing up to this ball and having a dance with you, because had been nearly a couple of hours and there was no sign of the silver haired prince. You and Rhaenerya had danced together most of the night and even you and Ser Harwin shared a dance, but it still didn't feel that void. You were currently dancing with Rhaenerya when your eyes landed on something that you couldn't believe was happening.

"What is it?" Rhanerya asked following your eyesight to where Daemon and Alicent who was dressed similar to you were standing and kissing.

"What the..?" Rhanerya asked seeing it happen for herself as Dameon eyes landed on yours.

"Sunshine wait!" Daemon called out and started making his way over towards you.

"I'm such a idiot." You said pushing through the crowd hoping to put some distance between you and Daemon, as Alicent stood there smirking.

"Sunshine please!" You heard behind you as you continued to push your away  through the crowd.

You eventually found your the way outside and it seemed like you had lost had lost Daemon, which you were grateful for. You felt so stupid for even thinking for a second that Daemon felt the same way and that you were the only he was pursing.

"Sunshine." Daemon said quietly approaching you.

"It's alright Daemon you don't have to explain. I understand everything I just feel stupid for thinking that you wanted me too." You said still not looking at him as the tears slide down your face.

"Sunshine I don't want her, I want you! I'm absolutely crazy about you, and I don't want anyone else but you." Dameon said turning you towards him.

"You do?" You asked shocked.

"I do, this night was supposed to go alot differently than it is, I knew of Alicent little crush on me growing up but never thought it would get so bad that she would literally force herself on me or try and copy your dress." He said holding your hands.

"Me neither. I'm sorry I over.." You started to say but he shushed you.

"No need to apologize, I should be the one apologizing for putting myself in that position." He said squeezing your hands a bit.

"It's alright. I do believe you promised me a dance tonight my prince." You said to him.

"I did, didn't I? Well let's have that dance, and must I say that dance looks way beautiful on you than her." He said to you as you two started to dance.

"Thank you, I absolutely love it and you." You said to him with a smile on your face.

"I'm glad but I love you more." He said pressing a kiss to your lips as you two continued to dance.

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff

[ohtobeleah]

Self-flagellation // Tom Kazanksy

Summary: The death of Goose Bradshaw rocks the TopGun class. Iceman struggles with the ideology that his death could have been prevented if he wasn’t sure sure of himself.

Warnings: Suicide attempt. Suicidal tendencies. Depression. Mentions of pregnancy.

Word Count: 3.2k

Author Note: Day Five of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Self-harm. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The warm soapy water soothed Tom’s aching muscles as he let himself slide down the side of the bath till the only thing remaining above the water was his head. Notes of jasmine from your scented epsom salts he swore he never indulged in filled the bathroom as the drip from the leaky faucet filled the void, the silent but all consuming void of nothingness that had followed Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazanksy around ever since he saw Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw break his neck during a freak accident.

It could have been avoided, the death of Goose Bradshaw. If Tom hadn't been so arrogant, if he hadn't started the chain reaction of events that led to Goose's death by cutting Maverick off—perhaps it all could have been avoided. He was so arrogant and sure of himself that he could get that shot, it was just a training exercise, no one should have died. 

The more he thought about it as he sunk deeper and deeper into the water, he knew he should have moved. He knew that it was his fault, his actions, and every choice that led to the death of Goose Bradshaw. 

And that was something he couldn’t live with. 

“Tom!” Your voice cut through the water like a breath of fresh air as you pulled your fiancé up from under the water he’d sunk under. “Jesus Christ what the hell are you doing?” It was the shock of walking into the bathroom and seeing your fiancé completely submerged and not making any attempt to move or get up that was talking. “Tom?” You asked as you assessed his face with both your hands cupping his cheeks. “What are you doing? What’s gotten into you?” You were in search of an answer that perhaps would have been written in the lines on his face—but when Tom reached up to take your hand in his and kissed your knuckles a few times. You knew something was wrong, very wrong. It was the look of dismissal in his eyes. 

The very look you saw from your mother right before she was admitted into the loony bin. 

“I’m fine—“ Tom tried to reassure you as you tried to keep your composure. “Totally fine dear, just thought it was real quiet under the water.” Tom  wanted to tell you about the voices in his head that he’d been trying to silence. Or about the way the burn his lungs felt as he begun to run out of oxygen made him feel closer to Goose. He wanted to be under that water—if you hadn’t pulled him up he would have truly stayed there. It seemed like a peaceful way to go. 

He wanted to tell you that it was all his fault, he killed Nick Bradshaw and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t live with the guilt, he saw that little kid on his mothers hip at the funeral three days prior and ever since he made eye contact with little Bradley Bradshaw—Tom wanted nothing more than to trade places with the RIO he killed with negligent flying. 

But he didn’t tell you any of that. Tom Kazanksy wouldn’t let his walls come down for no one. Not even you—he didn’t want to be seen as weak minded. His father had instilled a great fear of being seen as less than man enough if he were to ever shed a single tear. So the idea of crumbling to his knees, holding you tight and telling you he wanted nothing more than to trade places with a dead man was far beyond the realm of comprehension. 

“I’m fine honey, I was just in my own world for a second there.” You were completely disinclined to believe what your fiancé was saying. The signs were all there. The warning signals had been popping up for weeks. But all you did to keep the peace was nod in simple silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub. “I love you, I’m sorry for spookin you.” 

“You’d tell me—“ You cooed as you pushed Tom's hair from his forehead. “You’d tell me if you weren’t alright wouldn’t you baby?” The question packed a punch Tom wasn’t exactly ready for. He couldn’t tell you, you’d think he was certifiably insane for having such thoughts. He didn’t want you to worry about him, he was fine, he was totally and completely fine. 

So he lied right through those perfect teeth of his. He held your hand back up to his lips and pressed gentle kisses across your knuckles. His eyes told you a completely different story to the rhetoric he was spinning. Tom was going under, he was drowning in his own sorrow and guilt for a man he’d let down, that he’d killed. But he wouldn’t tell you that, he couldn’t bring himself to explain to the love of his life. 

So he lied. He lied and lied and lied, hoping that one day soon he’d believe himself. 

“Absolutely.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

He didn’t mean for it to happen, Tom Kazanksy never meant for his actions to result in his colleague and friends' untimely death. He didn’t mean to rip a family apart at the very seam. 

But he had. And he couldn’t cope with the guilt. 

“I’m worried about him, Carole.” You sighed as you walked with the newly widowed woman to her husband's grave. “He blames himself, much like Mav.” 

“It’s nobody's fault—“ Carole cooed as she held a bunch of roses in her hand and her sons in the other. Bradkey didn’t understand where his daddy had gone and it broke your heart. “It was just a freak accident—I know my husband wouldn't have put the blame on anyone, and I don’t either.” 

Carole Bradshaw was a beacon of hope to all the aviators who had lost a dear friend. She was the very reminder they needed to keep going, to keep her husband’s legacy alive by doing what he loved the most. 

“I think you should get him to talk to someone if you’re really concerned, even if he doesn’t think anything’s wrong—it always helps to talk it out.” Carole mentioned as she walked with you side by side. “I talk to a therapist about this new chapter twice a week.” She admitted tentatively. “Sometimes it feels all too much, then I remember I have Bradley.” She smiled softly, looking down at her husband’s surviving son. “He deserves to have a mother who’s as put together as can be.” That’s when Carole looked at you genuinely and wholeheartedly saw into your very soul as you held back tears. “Tom needs to be as put together as he can be, for the little one.” 

“I haven’t even told him yet.” You could feel your bottom lip wobbling as you spoke. “I don’t want to overwhelm him.” You were only a few weeks along and hadn’t worked up the courage to tell your fiancé yet. He wasn’t himself, between his need to be alone and his lack of attention to your relationship, you felt as if the news of a child would completely dismal Tom's very delicate mental state. “I’m not sure if he’s ready—“

“Maybe if he knew he’d helped create life then the idea he took it away wouldn’t be as overwhelming.” Carole always knew just what to say even when she was barely keeping herself together. After all, it was her husband's grace you were going to visit—not Toms. “Not that he had any involvement, because it was an accident.” 

“How many times have you told yourself that?”

You had to ask. “You know, before you started to believe it?” 

Carole let out a deep sigh that sounded like it came from her very soul. She squeezed her son's hand three consecutive times and did her best to keep her composure. 

“I tell myself that every day.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Honey?” Days turned into weeks before you had even noticed that the weeks had long since turned into months. Tom was for the most part a shell of his former self. He wasn’t home when all the lights seemed to be on. “Tom baby, are you home?” 

You’d gotten a call from Viper halfway through your shift, he was concerned to say the very least about Tom and the fact he hadn’t shown up for work this morning really had him worried. He’d asked the pilot if he was doing okay a few times since the accident—but every time he pressed, Tom did what he did best and shut the very people who cared about him the most, out. 

“Tom? Honey it’s me baby—Viper called?” You cooed as you placed your keys in the little dish by the front door. The house was eerily quiet for the mid afternoon. Usually the offshore breeze would be blowing through the open windows, but when the air felt still, stale even. Like nothing had moved since you had left this morning. Like nobody had been home all day—yet your fiancés trunk was in the drive. A dead give away. “Honey?” 

It was all very ominous, the stillness of your humble apartment, the ground floor of a four story building on the outskirts of Fightertown. The usually warm and cozy living room felt as cold as ice when you walked on by. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Nothing seemed different or misplaced—but the quiet hum, the bubbling anxiety inside your chest told you something was wrong. Something was off and something terrible was about to happen, or had happened. 

You remembered what your mother looked like the night your dad had taken her to the emergency room. Her night gown was soaked in crimson blood that would never wash out. You tried. 

“Tom? Honey, are you in there?” The bathroom door wasn’t locked, but it was closed shut. Your hand tightened around the doorknob as you let your forehead rest against the painted frame. “Please just answer me? I won’t come in if you don’t want me to.” You sighed to yourself as you closed your eyes and tried to will away the thoughts of your mother. 

You always thought it would be you, mental health instability ran in your family like nothing you had ever seen. But here you were, your fiancé had been suffering and he refused to let you in. He refused to be a burden on you and now? Now you were afraid to open the door, you were terrified beyond belief at what you might see. 

“Tom—“ Your feet felt frozen as you turned the door handle, the bathroom door slowly but surely creaked open. Time stood still as your eyes landed on the broad shouldered aviator lying in bloodied bath water that looked as thick as gelatin. “Oh god! TOM!” 

The shrill that left your body as you rushed over was a sound so painstakingly familiar that for a moment you swore you had heard your father scream behind you. History had a funny way of repeating itself. 

“Tom, honey—open your eyes baby look at me!” You tried to stay as calm as you could. “I’ve gotta call an ambulance.” That was the priority, call for help, stop the bleeding, save your fiancé’s life. You kept repeating it over and over like a mantra that would forever be embedded into your soul. Call for help, stop the bleeding, save Tom's life.”  

The home phone was down the hall and boy did it kill you every second you were gone, but when you came back to the bathroom, you brought bandages and gauze from the first aid kit you kept in the kitchen with you. 

“I’m here baby, I’m here.” Tom was unconscious but he still had a very weak, very faint, hardly there at all paulse. “Please don’t leave us, we’re right here, please please please don’t do this to us.” Twelve weeks, that’s how far along you were. For twelve weeks you had kept your pregnancy a secret from everyone except Carole Bradshaw. For twelve weeks your fiancé had been so distant and so closed off, disconnected even he hadn’t noticed the bouts of sickness, the fatigue, the way your stomach seemed a little more distended then it usually did. You weren’t showing all that much—but you thought the man you loved unconditionally, with your entire heart, with everything you had and more, would have noticed. 

But he didn’t. 

“Come on baby.” You tried to move him from the bathtub but the dead weight of Tom Kazanksys unconscious body was far too heavy for you to handle. “Stay with us, please.” Blood threatened to stain all aspects of the bathroom. The tiles, your clothes, even Tom's skin. But you did what you could with what you had to stop the bleeding coming from his wrists. Slashed deep. You had to hold back the nausea you felt as you wrapped both your fiancé’s wrists tight to stop them from bleeding any more, but judging by the amount of blood in the water and on the side of the bath—Tom had already lost a lot. 

This wasn’t a cry for help, this was so much more. This wasn’t just to feel something, this was to feel nothing at all. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more observant.” You cried as you kept Tom above the water, his head lulled to the side in your hands as you waited for the medics to arrive. “Honey, oh baby we love you so much, please don’t do this to us, please don’t leave.” You had to keep your fingers pressed against his neck, pressed against Tom’s pulse point to remind yourself he was still with you. “If you leave us so help me Christ Tom I’ll never forgive you—don’t you do this to me baby.” 

***~***~***~***~**

“No.” The last person Tom Kazanksy wanted to see was you, but here you were—sleeping in the small hospital chair beside his bed with your hand delicately intertwined with his. “No god no—“ He wasn’t supposed to be here with you. He was supposed to be dead, he wasn’t supposed to be alive where the burden was all too much and the guilt was all consuming. He couldn’t be here. “I’m alive?”

He couldn’t remember what happened after he’d sliced his wrists, but for what he could put together he assumed you would have been the one who found him. He left a letter on your pillow, he wondered if you’d found it. 

“A clinician is going to come in and speak with you soon.” Tom looked over at you as you spoke, your eyes were barely open, but when he finally met your gaze he saw the hurt he’d caused in them. “Tom—“

“You should have let me die.” Was all he said back to you. The words he spoke hurt more than he would ever know. “It’s my fault he died.” 

“Maverick said—“

“Forget what fucking Maverick said Y/n!” Tom snapped as you readjusted yourself in the chair you sat perched on. “I killed him! Goose died because I was flying recklessly and now I can’t live with the fucking guilt—you should have let me die!” 

“There are people who can help Tom.” You were a little more stirn than you would have liked to have been, but your fiancé had just tried to kill himself over his own deep rooted resentment for himself. “God why on earth do you think that killing yourself is the only option here?” 

“Because I don’t wanna go on living knowing I ruined someone else’s life!” He cried, Tom Kazanksy barely ever cried, in front of people anyway. But here he was, crying in front of you after he’d failed at taking his own life. You’d stopped him. “And if you hadn’t come home I’d be fucking dead! I wouldn’t have to live with myself and I wouldn’t have to look at you and wish you’d stop interfering!” 

It hit you in that very moment that when you’d found Tom in the bath he had in fact not been alright, he was trying to drown himself. Only you’d pulled him to the surface. 

“I don’t want you around anymore.” You looked at your fiancé with pleading eyes. “I don’t love you enough to stay, I don’t love you enough to keep fighting the fight I know I’ll fucking lose because I’m not strong enough.” It hurt more than anything else in this world. “You don’t need me, you don’t deserve to have to babysit me wondering when I’ll try again, because I will. I’ll try again until I’m dead and gone and don’t have to live with the guilt.” 

“Tom—“ Tom Kazanksy was the love of your life. He was once the funny and charismatic man who swept you off your feet. But now as you sat by his hospital bed after saving his life, all he could say to you was why did you even bother. “I can’t leave you after this, you need someone—“ 

“If you stay I’ll just end up hating you—“ That was the nail in the coffin of your broken relationship. “I’ll hate you for saving me and I’ll hate you forever, so please, just leave, go.” Maverick stood by the door, he’d come to see if you needed anything. He had heard every word Ice spoke and his heart was broken for you. You didn’t see any of this. 

This was so much worse than he ever thought it was. Maverick watched as you got up out of your chair, crying hysterically as you held a protective hand over your small but there baby bump. He knew. He knew you were pregnant, Carole had slipped up one night when she was in her own head about the entire situation.

“And don’t think I don’t know either.” Tom added as your tears fell down your face. He watched as you stopped in your tracks. “That baby is better off never knowing me.” He hissed as you kept your back turned, he wasn’t the same man you loved. This was the shell of a man you once knew, a broken man who had pushed everyone, including you away. “If you had bothered to tell me I would have asked you to abort it, saved you the trouble of my burden.” You turned back to face your fiancé as he spiraled further into his psychotic break. “It’s one of the reasons I did it, I don’t deserve to be a father after what I did.” 

You took a deep breath as you wiggled your engagement ring off your ringer before you slowly moved back to the bedside. Tom watched you with teary eyes of his own. He couldn’t believe that he was giving up his entire world because he couldn’t handle the immense guilt, the shame, the fear he felt all for kissing one of his friends. 

“You were right.” You dropped the ring into his lap, deciding that if Tom Kazanksy had given up on living that he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your support, your love, your energy or your child. This was different to what your mother went through, this wasn’t just depression, this was selfishness and cruel behaviour. 

And hell—two could play at that game, become why on god's green earth should you continue to try and save someone who didn’t want to be saved?”

“You weren’t worth saving.” You whispered as you turned on your heels to head out of the room as the clinician walked in. Loving Tom Kazanksy had turned into a losing game. But you had just one final thing to say over your shoulder. 

“Say hi to Goose when you see him, maybe you’ll believe him when he tells you it wasn’t ever your fault.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

#ailesswhumptober2023 #leahs whumptober masterlist #tom kazansky #Tom kazansky top gun #Tom kazansky angst #tw: suicide attempt #tw: depressive episode #tw: suicidal tendencies

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

My Love, I See My Self in You

Chrollo x reader

Navi.

Warnings: philosophy class has been a while, it´s possible that the following discussion about the self doesn´t make any sense. Or maybe it does. Who am I to say?, existential crisis El superiority, slightly implied yandere/not fully healthy relationship, also there is a reason I spelled it my self/our selves instead of myself and ourselves

Autumn Event.

Wordcount: 1.3k+

Love and passion – the spirited soul. What is the self without emotion? Does it need emotion for a self? Is that why you feel so lonely? Is that why he seems so void? It is a self he lacks, but there are other souls you both possess. You know of his need to eat to live and your throat has been dry more times than you could count. Life, apparently, appends the appetitive soul. While you cannot speak for yourself, you know he has intellect, you know there is a rational soul within him; too often have his arguments disarmed you.

So, what truly makes the self?

You could feel his gaze on you. A shiver went down your spine at his touch, running up your arm for just a sliver of your attention. He smiled when you turned to him.

“There you are. Penny for your thoughts?” he hummed, appreciatively.

You paused, unsure if you wanted to dive into that discussion on an evening as lovely as this one. Sensing your uncertainty, his fingers returned to your arm, drawing goosebumps from your skin.

“What do you think, is the self?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he briefly halted his movements. “Because you are rational and possess basic needs and even passion, but - is it really the lack of emotions that makes you so void?”

A chuckle escaped him and he resumed his ministrations, caressing your arm.

“Do you follow Plato´s philosophy?”

You shook your head. “I was merely entertaining the idea.”

“For you? Or for me?” His eyes darkened. You met his gaze head on, smiling sickeningly sweet.

“For you, of course.”

He hummed, but his eyes told you he didn´t believe you. Yet, he carried on:

“Sokrates believed it was the soul that was essence of the human person.”

“But then what is the soul?”

“Part of it being the individual´s intellectuality and morality. He thought it was this that made the personality.” You grimaced. “Is that theory not to your liking, sweetheart?” He let out a soft laugh when you shook your head. “Well, then, it is your turn again. What other theory do you have stored in your pretty little head?”

“I always thought Plato´s three souls are quite similar to Freud´s Es, Ich and Über-Ich," you said, more to yourself than to him.

Chrollo leaned forward, propping himself up on his legs. Still, he could reach your thigh with some of his fingers and couldn´t help but use the opportunity to continue touching you. While you would never admit it out loud, his gentle touch was indeed soothing. The amused gleam in his eyes told you he knew.

“I do – to a certain degree – agree with the tabula rasa; but more so in an-“ you snapped your fingers, trying to find the right words “-in an Existentialist way. Say…Locke´s theory about experiences, at least in part, creating the self.”

“You´re an existentialist?”

“Well, I do think we are shaped – our personality that is – by our experiences as well as the things we are taught – or not taught. Socialisation can either enrich or scar us; we can learn from it, reject it or embrace it. Either way: it makes us…us.”

“Then, in this case, would the “personality” you speak of constitute as a self?”

You pause.

“I – I´m not sure. I guess so, yes? At least partially? When I say “I”, do I mean my self? But that doesn´t really answer the question, does it? Whether I call it soul or self or me…I still don´t know what it means.”

You bit your lips and looked up at him. His eyes were brimming with fascination, he was listening to your every word.

“Maybe you´re all wrong?” he challenged you, oh how he loved to do that. You could feel his hands buzzing from excitement. “Maybe there is no self and all of this is pointless?”

You rolled your eyes.

“None of this is pointless, and you know it.”

“Do I now?” His smile widened.

“You get to pick my brain and I get to voice my thoughts.”

“I do enjoy picking your brain,” he admitted.

You didn´t even entertain the idea of replying to that.

“Anyways. If there is no self then I don´t exist.”

“That´s an interesting thesis.” You rolled your eyes again, but he continued as if nothing happened. “Maybe the self is just the brain?”

“I mean, to an extent that may be true. Plato´s souls can all – to a certain degree – be attributed to the brain. But that in of itself does not disprove the existence of a self. Maybe the self is the brain, perhaps it is within the brain. That doesn´t really matter in this discussion.”

“What about Ryle; "I act therefore I am"?”

“Now we´re back to existentialism.”

“Then what about this,” he leaned back again, eyes locking with yours, “Merleau-Ponty. You cannot view the self objectively. What we believe to know of both the self and the world is based solely on subjective experiences.”

You bit your lips and tapped your foot on the ground, frustrated. Chrollo, however, remained calm, gazing at you with utmost interest, heart thrumming in anticipation to your response.

“I-“ you cut yourself off. While you saw reason in what he proposed, you couldn´t help but feel like there was more to the self than this. “Then…what about...the five skandhas?” you asked, finally meeting his eyes again.

“Oh?”

“The self not only relies on feelings, whether emotional or physical, but also our senses. Mental activities such as thinking are also part of it. Then we have mental states and ideas: that includes prejudices and faith, but also desire, habits – even pride - and many more.

And, of course, there is awareness as well as our form itself – our physical body. I-“ You broke off again, unsure how to continue.

Chrollo hummed, seemingly satisfied with the glimpse he got from your mind. But then again, he was nothing but greedy.

“What about anatman then?”

“I never quite understood the "no self",” you admitted, quietly. “But if it is based solely on the fact that the self is not permanent – simply because we, as humans, are ever changing – I…I don´t think that is a good reason? I do not claim that my self is not subject to change, but that fact does not make it any less of a self? The person I was ten years ago – even just a moment ago – is different to the person I am now. Our selves are different – although they probably have some things in common still. But just how the differences between you and me don´t take away our claim to a self, neither do the differences between the person I am and the person I used to be. We are different people, with different selves.”

Chrollo let out a shaky breath.

“Then, what does this all tell you. Do you have an answer now?”

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes.

“You do have emotions, but they are…sterile,” you started, carefully, ”Only to the outside does it look like you lack a self. You have both physical form and consciousness. You can feel pain, whether it would draw blood or a tear. I have seen you plan the most intricate heists in your mind. I know that you enjoy our little morning ritual and that you believe it to be bad luck to leave without telling me that you love me. I know you have faith in the troupe´s vision and that there is nothing more that you desire than all of our happiness – even at the cost of your own life. You take pride in your knowledge, your experience and your intelligence – but still you can be afraid.” Your voice cracked. “Maybe you seem so void because you don´t know how to define yourself – not even being able to pretend like you do. And maybe,” you added, quietly, “Maybe I´m not lonely, just scared.”

Your eyes searched for comfort in his, but what met your gaze were only his widened, glassy eyes. After a moment, he coughed and drew you into his arms, holding you protectively against his chest and resting his chin on your head.

“We are young, sweetheart, we have all the time in the world to discover our selves." He paused. "And we have each other.”

You closed your eyes, returning his hug.

"Yeah, at least we have each other," you whispered.

#chrollo #chrollo x reader #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #hxh x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #what-the-stories-have-foretold #x gn!reader #autumn event #autumn festival

[miam0re]

Hi!

Could you please write the brothers reacting to this scenario following Season Three's end (fully SFW, please!):

After they arrived in the human world to visit, MC had started acting secretive. They were hiding something from their partner, and would readily admit it. "It's nothing bad!" They would assure the brother, refusing to let it slip.

As it approached the time for the brothers to return to the Devildom, MC seemed more and more excited, talking about their own inevitable return once they have learned more magic.

Then the farewell party came and the brothers gathered together to ask Diavolo to let MC marry into the family. We all know how that ended. Diavolo saying marriage between a human and a demon was not -had never been - an option left MC stunned and quiet for the rest of the night.

The next morning, as they say their goodbyes, MC takes the brother's hand and whispers in his ear. "Wear this to remember me by," they say as they place a ring in his palm.

Back in the Devildom, the brother takes the time to look at MC's gift. It's an attractive band, etched with designs inspired by the brother and MC's symbolic animals on the outside and their names on the inside. The brother can't help but think that it would make an excellent wedding ring.

Thanks for your time!

By 'season 3' I assume you mean the 3rd arc in game...ie ch41-60

I still haven't reached there cuz my deck power is absolute shit

Looking at your request(and interpreting what I think you want to ask), I was a bit stumped on the kinds of reactions that the demon brothers would have for such a thing so I turned to a friend for help haha.

Gets a little angsty so well 👀

A Ring to Remember | Demon Brothers

The one who spends hours at his desk, holding the ring with a restrained grip, lest his emotions get the best of him and the diamond shatters into a million tiny pieces. “Why are you making this so difficult for me?” He scoffs to himself, heartbroken as he stores the ring into his desk drawer, unable to look at it and remember your beautiful face and the memories made together…

The one who can’t bear seeing the ring, yet he wants to keep you close to his heart at all time. He cared for you so much, so why did the universe have to keep you away? “Nah! I don’t miss the human at all! I’m better off!” He convinces his brothers (or not) as the ring hangs on a golden chain around his neck, hidden from sight as he hides his agony from the world…

The one who think you’re probably out there already with someone else, someone better than him and in a fit of jealousy tosses it out his bedroom window. “Pfft, I don’t need any stupid ring as a reminder of you.” Regrets how stupid he was being and spent hours looking for it, tearing the garden apart, sitting on his knees and wailing loudly when the ring is nowhere in sight…

The one who lets his wrath get the best of him, shaking with rage as he lets fists fly, crashing into the bookshelves and dropping books all over the carpeted floor. “This is not fair! None of this is fair!” He screams into the void, knees weak as he joins the pile of books, sobbing while clutching the ring close to his chest, hoping some magic would let the two of you be together…

The one who accepts fate as it is, smiling bitterly while slipping the diamond ring on his finger, admiring how the light catches in the carved edges. “The beauty of the diamond ring can never compare to ours when we’re together.” Plays with the ring constantly, sometimes pouting to himself about how he’s being deprived of vitamin U and hoping he can see your smile a few times more…

The one who no longer feels an appetite for food, but only a longing to have you in his arms and fill the space in his life. “Food just doesn’t taste the same without you around.” Spends hours in a stretch in bed, staring at the ring and trying it on his ring finger, till his emotions spout out uncontrollably, crying into the pillows about how much he misses you…

The one who stays in the attic and talks to the stars about his day, imagining that the star was you, his dearest. “No matter what happens, you will always remain in my heart.” Always wears the ring and thinks of the two of you stargazing and spending moments together. He spends even more time sleeping, resting on the fluffy pillows with scents that reminded him of you…

#mi.mail #mia.writes #mia.anon #obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me fluff #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me angst

[golbrocklovely]

i'm gonna make this post since i have like ten asks wondering my thoughts on it. and i don't really feel like repeating myself over and over again.

long story short, i'm disappointed.

so… snc did a video with elton and corey. they addressed the rumors that have been circulating about elton and the things he has done to snc, none of which were true. and i'm glad that that can finally come to a close and the death threats can calm down. bc while i never liked elton, he didn't deserve death threats.

but let me get into the video.

i don't feel like rewatching it, so if i get some things wrong, idc. but what i know for certain is that elton flat out said "the fans drove us apart and made me act the way i did." which, is just a flat out lie. HE started way back in late 2020/21. i have proof. i've seen it with my own eyes. i was literally there while he was tweeting out things against snc. if he is that easily persuaded, he should reconsider his career choices. fans took it too far, i'm not disagreeing with that; but to pretend that him and corey didn't shade snc for years and that the fans started a beef between them is ridiculous and incredibly incorrect. elton started a battle that he didn't think was gonna continue for as long as it did. he believed his ego and thought fans would side with him in his unjust belief that snc were copying him. and it didn't play out in his favor, so he just got more bitter and bitter over the years about it. once ppl started making up lies about him, something he had no issue doing to snc, that's when things went "too far".

again, did he deserve death threats for being petty? absolutely not. did he deserve lies to be made up about him? no. but do not pretend to be an innocent bystander in a war YOU started. you handled things publicly and then got pissed when the public had opinions. idk what you expected. snc didn't do anything to elton. they didn't copy him, they didn't take content that was his and change it around to be their own. that is something elton CLAIMED to have been the case. and now he tries to blame it on fans and that they were the ones that claimed that. his apology is null and void when he turns around and says "yeah i said some things i shouldn't have but it's actually the fans' doing that made me think that way." you are full grown adult man with multiple businesses. act like it.

and i cannot fathom under any circumstance why snc would ALLOW elton and corey back into their lives. they bad-mouthed you two for YEARS. they did it in front of fans on tour! they cultivated a fandom that was happy to see you guys fail or get called out. i get you feel bad that fans took things too far. that maybe you were petty too in some instances, that you could have reached out sooner. but YOU DIDN'T START THIS. they don't deserve loyalty or to be in your lives again bc fans were assholes! and you shouldn't want someone in your life that will believe a stranger over you. bc what is there to say that elton won't turn around and shit on you again? he obviously has issues talking shit out. what about the next time he thinks you slighted him? you think he's gonna be rational and act like an adult and talk to you? probably fucking not.

snc bitch time and time again about feeling used, that they always feel taken advantaged of. they keep their inner circle small bc they can't trust anyone. colby literally talked about not being able to date outside of the industry bc what if the girl he's with wants something from him. they do all of this complaining, only to bring elton and corey back in. two ppl who will only BENEFIT from being their friend again. they have been losing subs and followers for years now ever since they started this war. they have nothing to lose being your friend again. they will USE YOU.

it became very apparent to me that snc only want elton and corey back in their lives for memories' sake. they had a three hour conversation only to go back and talk about the good ol times. there's a reason why those moments are in the past. elton literally still sees you guys as the young 20 year olds he has to "take care of". he literally said he loveD you guys, past tense - bc now he hasn't hung out with yall in so long. and you want that back in your life bc you miss feeling young and have uncle elton around? let go of 2017. that was a life time ago. there is no reason to have this man back in your life. and same goes for corey. neither one of them even wished you well publicly when you were diagnosis with cancer or going thru chemo, colby! what about that screams good friend material??

i know i am one person with one opinion. you don't have to listen to me, and that goes for everyone reading this. if you're happy they're back together, that's great. good for you. but i will not be supporting any content that comes from elton/corey and snc. if they do a video together, go on a trip - i will not watch it. i don't care to see two men who i care about hang out with two other guys that literally wished them the worst for three years straight.

snc are allowed to make whatever choice they want. if they want these guys back in their lives, that's the choice they make. if they accept elton's apology, that's fine. but i will not support it. it is such a disappointing feeling to see the ppl you care about act like floormats personified. you guys are so desperate to be seen as good and positive and it is mind-numbingly annoying. who cares if you're an asshole sometimes?! set boundaries for christ's sake. and follow thru on them. stop listening to fans who have the attention span of a spoon and are only here bc they think you're hot.

…this goes into a longer issue i've had with snc for a while now. and that's that i'm no longer excited to be an avid watcher of them. everything that has happened this year was proof, to me, that they should have taken an actual, long term break, the moment colby got sick. they started out the year not even being with each other on colby's bday. and even before that you could tell something was off with the two of them. it was clear colby wanted a break, was aching for one, and sam was the one that wanted to jump right back into work the moment the new year started. then colby got diagnosed, then sam and kat broke up, then colby went thru chemo, then sam needed to get his shit sorted out so he went to therapy (and still very much needs it). then they celebrated colby being cancer free and jumped back into the amount of work they were used to doing. this doesn't even take into account that colby never got time to recover from even realizing HE HAD CANCER, or the fact he was working all while going thru chemo and before that too. they NEVER took a break. taking a week off to black out in japan doesn't count. they are so obsessed with working and numbers, it's not even funny.

and then this podcast with kris… while i did enjoy it, it became very clear to me that snc are really only making content anymore for views and money. and look, get your coin, this is your job after all. but at what point do you start making content you actually enjoy making? bc the moment they shitted on 25x25, something they very much loved when it was happening, that was enough proof that they only care about views and money anymore. the only reason they stopped that WAS bc no one watched it. and ppl didn't stop watching it bc it was inauthentic. you were travelling during a deadly pandemic… what did you expect fans to do?? not to mention you cold turkey-ed content that ppl signed up for (haunted stuff). of course the views are gonna plummet. it wasn't bc the editing was weird and new, which is what yall love to latch onto even to this day. you guys were so excited for that content, and now shit on it bc it's become the joke to the fandom, half of which wasn't even here when you made that content.

you collab with ppl no one even cares to see you with bc you know it will bring in views. who the fuck wants to see yall and bella poarch at the conjuring house??? none of these collabs make sense anymore, unless you just want to get views. all the content you have put out this year has been mediocre at best. you talk about quality over quantity but really should have just considered not working and taking a break since one of you was literally going thru fucking cancer.

i just feel so deflated. i'm not even excited for the conjuring house. i don't care about hell week. i can't even be pissed that sam is barely helping with the edit still. none of this fucking matters anymore.

yall don't care, so why should i?

do whatever makes you happy, i guess. but don't complain when you realize it doesn't, bc i'm not gonna be here to hear it.

also, if any of you get pissy at me bc you feel like this is a good thing and you want to see them collab and i'm taking it too far... respectfully, i don't give a single shit about your opinion. have yours, i'll have mine.

#personal #text #L10 #snc bs

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Did anyone say WIP snippets no one asked for? No? Well, here it is anyway...

For context... yeah, it's *that* coma dream from Bones fans will adore and hype, rightfully so, to this day. Because the scenes for my long-ass Bones AU before that are not really done... we're just jumping right into the coma dream following Eddie being taken out by a sniper, following him and Buck investigating Charlie's case.

As for reference: We currently stand at roughly 540k something something words for this fic that's not a fic, not counting notes and ideas. If we count those, too, we're at 581k something something. AKA why, God, whyyyyyy???

The End in the Beginning Part ???

He watches numbly as his body is tossed around like a rag doll, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Blood sprays from his shoulder like the water bombs Buck and Christopher tossed around the yard on a particularly hot day this summer. He can’t hear them giggle, though.

White-hot pain explodes in his shoulder, knocking the air out of him.

Eddie gasps for air to fill his lungs, but it won’t come.

Why can’t he breathe?

He wants to say something, but the words won’t come. Sirens scream in his ears, deafen him. The sunlight above blinds him. The pain ebbs into numbness as he falls to the ground.

Three senses shutting down, two left. Gotta stay awake. Gotta stay…

Eddie can still smell. He can tell that he’s on gravel, out in a street. Gasoline and smoke lie in the air, burned rubber and oil. And blood. He can smell his own blood, metallic. He can also taste it, iodic, cold. And it makes him want to gag.

The world grows hazy, blurry, tilts this way, then the other. For a moment, Eddie believes he is lying on desert sand, but he after blinks once, twice, a third time, he is back on the street, blood pooling underneath him. No sand to absorb it, just the gravel. His life is draining out of him, and he is watching it happen.

But that can’t be, can it?

He promised, after all. To come back home.

Christopher.

He has to come back home to him. He has to…

“Eddie? Eddie!”

Buck? Is he here, too? He can’t be here. It’s too dangerous.

Eddie wants to shout again, back into the blankness from where he can hear Buck’s voice. He wants to tell him to stay away, to stay safe. He can’t get hurt, too. If Eddie can’t get back home, Buck has to. For Christopher. Not just for Christopher, but also for Christopher. To look after him.

And because he needs to be safe. He needs to be safe, please.

“Just hold on! I’m gonna go get you!”

No, stay away! he screams internally, but it’s lost to the void. Stay safe!

“Stay with me, Eddie!”

He wants to, he does. More than anything. Blindly, Eddie reaches to the source of the voice calling him, but the white light mingles with the blackness spreading across his eyes.

Please forgive me, he thinks as all senses shut down. I tried, I did.

The black swallows him whole. He sees nothing, hears nothing, tastes nothing, smells nothing. Whatever it is that he is touching, whatever it might be that is touching him, he can’t feel it anymore. Because it’s over, it’s done.

I’m sorry.

--------------------------

Eddie wakes up with a gasp. He sits up, rubs his eyes, feels faint wetness against his fingertips. Black dots mingle with white ones.

Just like…

Panting, he lets one hand fall down to his shoulder. It doesn’t hurt anymore, and there is no wetness, no blood. His white shirt is crisp and clean, just rumpled from sleep. Because apparently, he is in bed, his bed. At home. It’s dark outside, light cracking through the door that’s left slightly ajar.

There is no gravel digging into his skin. No pool of blood forming underneath him. No sirens blaring. No cold spreading inside him. No searing pain. No one screaming his name as he keeps bleeding out.

It’s just him, sitting in his bed, sweat-soaked. With a heart that can still beat as fast as it does. Because he is alive. Not dead, alive. At home, alive.

So it was just a dream…

Eddie is pulled out of his thoughts when the door opens slowly. It takes him a few moments to recognize the outline of the person entering.

Buck.

He slips inside, careful not to make any noises as he works on the cuffs of his shirt. Buck’s eyes find his in the dark, and a shy smile creeps up his lips.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, did I wake you again?” he asks in a hushed voice, like he’s done that a million times. And Eddie feels like it’s been a million times that he couldn’t help but smile at that. So he does, and Buck smiles back at him, ducking his head.

Eddie frowns, then answers, “No.”

“Oh, good,” Buck sighs, relieved. His eyes drift to the alarm clock next to Eddie on the nightstand.

“You’re late,” Eddie finds himself say, like he knows what time Buck should be here, should be home.

“I know, I know, I promised not to work overtime, but I just had to wrap up the preparations for the new exhibition,” Buck continues, almost pleads. “Bobby said it’d be fine to finish early next morning, but you know how it is with me. Even if I had gone on time, I would have assembled the exhibits in my mind. So no sleep… which means I could have just as well finish now, so I might actually rest.”

Eddie can’t put his finger on it, but there is something about Buck that’s different in a way. He is his awkward, weird self, alright. But he also seems… at ease? Like he doesn’t have to prove anything anymore.

It suits him.

Buck chuckles to himself. “For that we’re dealing exclusively with fossils in our department, you’d think us paleontologists wouldn’t be on such a tight schedule. Yet, here we are.”

“But you got it all set?” Eddie asks, like he knows what that’s about. And it feels familiar, too. In the way that makes his lips curl into a soft smile as he listens to Buck ramble on about something that excites him, which are so many things. It feels like they had this very same conversation a hundred times over. So he probably did, right?

After all, it was just a nightmare, right?

“Duh.” Buck unbuttons his shirt. “Chris is gonna love it for sure. So you know what our plans for the weekend are.”

“Well, so long I don’t have to show him around and pretend to know the names of the dinosaurs, I’m happy to tag along,” Eddie answers automatically.

“I guess that can be arranged,” Buck laughs easily. He takes off the shirt and slips on a loose shirt he picks out of the drawer blindly. Then he slips out of his pants and hangs them over the chair. Eddie watches on, wondering why he wonders about that as much as he does. Because this is an evening like any other. They are at ease. They are at home. They are safe.

Everything is as it ought to be, right?

Smiling, Buck makes his way over to Eddie’s side of the bed and sits down on the edge. The mattress dips under his weight, as though to draw Eddie just one inch closer. And Eddie happily lets himself sink just that inch closer to feel Buck’s warm body radiate heat against his slightly clammy skin, making him feel anything but dead.

“Sorry,” Buck says sheepishly, then leans over and kisses Eddie gently on the lips. “Almost forgot.”

The kiss feels chaste yet intimate. Like it has been practices for many years, and Eddie leans into its familiarity, lets the warm feeling cast out the remains of that nightmare that left him to shiver before.

“Hi,” Buck whispers, grinning against his lips.

“Hi,” Eddie chuckles, leaning his forehead against Buck’s for a moment. They stay like that for a short while, though Eddie wouldn’t mind if eternity felt like that either.

Buck pulls back a bit to look at him, knitting his eyebrows. “You okay?”

He frowns. “Yeah, why?”

“You just have that broody face going on, which normally means there’s something you don’t wanna talk about but maybe should be talking about,” Buck explains. “And I know that you don’t do, unless I ask. So… I ask.”

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes a few times, then he says, “I just had a really weird dream, is all.”

“Weird in the creepy yet exciting way or weird in the… unnerving kind of way that makes you wanna hide under the covers?” Buck wants to know. Eddie doesn’t miss how he unconsciously starts to sweep his thumb up and down along Eddie’s forearm.

“It was just… odd. I got shot in the streets. You were there, too, I think you were, and… I think a sniper took me down. But… it didn’t feel like me, you know? Like it was some other version of me getting shot, one that got it handed to him pretty badly,” Eddie ponders.

It felt so real, though…

“Well, getting shot by a sniper doesn’t sound pleasant, that’s for sure,” Buck says sympathetically.

“Not really.”

“Though thankfully, statistically speaking, it’s very unlikely for a man installing security systems in buildings to get shot in the streets by a sniper,” Buck tells him with a small grin.

Eddie smirks. “That’s still Security Management Specialist for you.”

“Sorry, sorry. You did a wonderful job at the Jeffersonian, specially managing all our security,” Buck laughs, then slips his hand over the back of Eddie’s. He lets his finger rest against a metal band there that Eddie didn’t even feel as foreign until now. “You made me a very proud husband once all was installed. Like, yeah, my man did that.”

Buck pecks him on the cheek, tangling his arms around Eddie’s shoulder loosely. “Sorry you had a bad dream, though.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” Eddie assures him, though honestly, he assures himself foremost. Eddie buries his head against Buck’s clavicle, soaking up even more of the warmth Buck radiates, the comfort he offers by just being there. “At least I got up for you to distract me. You always make me forget all that crap in an instant.”

“Do I?” Buck whispers, almost sings it like a lullaby.

“Always.”

They pull apart to chase each other’s lips, not desperately, but with more need than before. To assure each other that they are indeed there. That they can hold each other that close. That they have each other.

And it seems to work like a charm. Eddie can’t hear the sirens anymore. He only hears the rustling of the sheets and Buck’s shallow intakes of air whenever their lips part. He doesn’t taste blood on his tongue. He tastes spearmint from the gum Buck must have chewed on the ride back, he sometimes does that when he’s tired and needs to stay awake. He doesn’t smell gravel and smoke. He smells the last remains of Buck’s cologne. He tastes and smells and feels Buck. And in that small world, everything makes perfect sense. Kissing Buck and holding him close, that’s all it takes for his world to make sense.

Stay with me…

Once they break up the kiss, Eddie nudges his nose against the side of Buck’s, resting his face more against Buck’s, leaning into the comfort he provides by just being there, by staying without Eddie having to ask for it.

“I missed you,” Eddie breathes.

Buck chuckles at that. “I wasn’t gone that long, c’mon.”

“In my dream, I missed you. I couldn’t… I heard you, but I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t… get to you,” Eddie mumbles.

“I’m here now.”

And Eddie can hear it, the unspoken “I’m staying”. He takes another deep breath, takes it all in.

“What do you need?” Buck asks.

“Just you,” Eddie replies simply.

Because it is that simple. He needs Buck, and Buck is here.

What more do I need?

Buck’s fingers run soothing circles around the back of his neck and head. They stay like that for a while. Because there is no need for a rush. They aren’t just stealing moments, glances. They have them, they can create them. They are theirs to claim.

“Feeling better?” Buck whispers after a while.

“Very much,” Eddie confirms. “Just your kind of magic.”

Buck groans, leaning his head back. “Eddie, magic doesn’t exist, you know that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He laughs.

“So… Want some more distraction?” Buck asks, teasing.

Eddie grins against his cheek. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Not enough not to want this,” Buck replies, letting his hand slide down Eddie’s side, making him shudder. “Never enough to not want you.”

Eddie lets himself ease back down on the bed, pulling Buck with him so that he is halfway sprawled across his chest. “If that’s the case… Then yeah, distract me.”

“That can be arranged,” Buck laughs, pecking one of Eddie’s scars briefly.

“I love you, you know?” Eddie mutters, feeling like he can’t say it often enough, like he probably hasn’t said it enough.

Because things can happen… people get shot in bright daylight…

“Well, that’s convenient. Coz I love you, too,” Buck snickers, his entire face lighting up, even in the dark. “And I’m about to show you just how much I love you.”

Eddie laughs as he turns them both over, leaving him on top. For a moment, he just lingers there, traces the faint outlines of Buck in the dark with his eyes. He slips one hand against Buck’s palm, finds the metal band there and runs his fingertips across it, maybe for good luck, he isn’t sure. But he never takes his eyes off of Buck, searches him in the dark and finds him there, waiting, staying. And once he does, he leans in and kisses him in all earnest. Not for the last time tonight, it’d seem.

It was really just a dream, then.

Thank God I woke up, then.

#buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #buddie au #fanfic #fanfiction #in smol #I still have a lot of (conflicted) feelings about this fic #all the more because it controls almost all of my “creative” mental space