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classypauli · 1 day

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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

chapter 1

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!Reader

summary: Your and Tara’s “friendship” keeps going and unexpected pairing in school project gets you more closer than you both need.

tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, alcohol, party, curse words, mistakes

word count: 2.5k

You don’t like a lot of things, like early mornings, school, tomato soup, and slow people on stairs. But the thing you hate the most is the alarm clock. You are sure that you already have PTSD from it because everytime you hear it, your body wants to shut down. Like right now.

You whined as your ears were met with the most annoying sound on earth. After turning it off you turned your face deep into the pillow. For a couple of minutes, it stopped but you knew it would soon come back.

With a groan, your legs fell onto the cold floor. You don´t have many lessons today, just one but you still couldn´t convince your body to wake up.

Slowly doing your morning routine, grabbing things you need for your lesson and you left. As you were locking your apartment´s door you saw Tara by the elevator. Quickly putting your keys into the pocket of your jeans you started to make your way to her direction.

Every morning you and her were practically overruning to the elevator, making the other one behind to wait.

Your flats are high and the elevator is unfortunately just one. The only way to go down would be to go down the endless stairs or to swallow your dislike towards the Carpenter and go with her. And that´s exactly what you were going to do.

Sadly Tara saw you, and as you were halfway toward her the elevator door suddenly opened. This was her chance, her chance to pay back you from yesterday.

The next thing you saw was Tara quickly going to the elevator and sending you her most annoying grin you have ever seen through the elevator doors that were slowly closing right between your face.

You ran as fast as you could but your body was met with the tough metal doors. And the next thing you could hear was Tara´s echoing laugh.

„That little-“You let out a groan as you punched the closed elevator door.

Forget about the things that were said in the beginning, the thing you most hated was Tara Carpenter.

„Hey Y/N! Why so late?“

Chad asked you with a curious face. Everyone was now sitting by the cafeteria in your university. Every morning you would meet there and start your day together, then split up for lessons if you didn´t have them together.

Your eyes shot to the Carpenter who was sitting by the end of the table, far from you. She was smirking to herself, trying to hide her laugh. You knew and she knew too.

„Nothing serious Chad, just some morning issues.“ You let out as you sat opposite Chad. His twin sister looked trying to figure out the cause of it but as soon as your eyes met Tara´s she understood.

It bothers Mindy, she wants all of her close ones to get along. How come you can´t just bury the war axe and at least accept the presence of one another? If not for you then for your friends.

Mindy can´t imagine the situation of having to choose between the two of you. She doesn´t even want to think about it, the thought of splitting your group into two camps.

You have all been friends since the first years of school. You would share all your classes and after school, you came to each other's houses and played till your parents called. As you got older your hobbies and behavior changed but your friendship stayed the same. Only there was a little problem, you two.

The thing is, despite you both hate each other you are almost the same. Tara has a short temper and you have anger issues. Just a small tinke from you or her and the volcanic eruption is born.

So Mindy took the role of the mother of her two stubborn kids.

Days went by and everything was the same. You were feeling like a mummy this past week because of the schoolwork. You were working your ass off because of the finals and wanting to do as great as you could you needed to pay with your sleep.

Right now you are in civics class. You don´t hate it but you don´t like it either. It is somewhere in the middle. You took this class partly because your friends were there but also because it wasn´t so hard. Yeah you are an idiot. But hand on your heart, who has never done that?

Unfortunately one of the things the students needed to do to pass the class besides the final exam was a group project.

You didn´t like this kind of stuff, especially with someone you barely know but thank God this won’t be your case.

Sitting in a chair one hand was supporting your head and the other was playing with a pen in your hand, spinning it around. You were sitting alone in the back of the class. Mindy diagonally to your left with Chad beside her. Tara was diagonally on your right sitting also alone.

„And for the upcoming project, you will be making groups of two people. Each group will have a different topic and it will be up to you how you will elaborate on it and how you will split your work. The next thing-“

You moved your eyes to Mindy but her back was towards you. The girl was talking to her brother who was nodding at something she was saying. She wouldn´t do this to you, right? Mindy was your partner, your friend, and your only hope for this class.

The class bell rang and with that, you stood up and made your way to her. „Will you pair with me on this project?“ you asked, almost sure that she would say yes.

„Sorry Y/N I´m already with Chad.“ You kept looking at her with open eyes. Did your best friend just betray you? „But you can be with Tara.“

The both of you turned to the spot that was occupied by the brunette and your gazes met.

No no no no no.

Looking up at your roof with a softball in your hand, not paying attention to what going on but also praying it will end as soon as possible. You were currently lying on your back in your bed while throwing the ball against the ceiling.

Your teacher gave you not much time on your project despite how large it needs to be. Unfortunately, there was no other way other than to do it fast. For the sake of both.

„Human rights are fundamental rights and freedoms that all individuals are entitled to regardless of their nationality, ethnicity, religion, gender, or other factors. They are inherent to all human beings and-“ Tara stopped. „I won´t do this all just by myself.“ She said without turning her head toward you.

Since she came to your apartment you were just quiet, keeping yourself on a leash. Tara was sitting on the ground of your room with the books and notebook around her. You refused to let her use your game computer or your chair, not trusting her with it which she called you crazy.

„You know if you keep doing this it will take much longer.“

You sighed and sat up. You were pretty calm today, Tara was almost enjoying it, only almost. You took one of her books and started to look for something useful to put into your project.

Tara shook her head at your behavior and continued. „An individual rights end where the other individual rights begin-“

„Something you infringed a long time ago.“ You muttered under your breath, reacting to her words. The short girl took a deep breath in and out.

Dick.

„It can be affected in a way of violence or abuse, meaning of physical, emotional, psychological abuse-“

„Damn, they should lock you up.“ Again you let out softly barely noticeable.

„Can you shut up?!“

„You wanted me to help!“

„But not with being an absolute ass!“

You stood up from your bed and pointed your finger at her. „Listen here, little lady.“

„Oh yeah? Come on tell me.“ She stood up from the ground and made her way toward you. Your angry faces were just centimeters from one another and your hands were formed into fists. Her big brown eyes were staring right into yours with rage. How badly you just wanted to-

You were cut off by the doorbell of your apartment. Both of your faces turned from the way the sound came to each other again with a confused look. Tara pushed you by your shoulders.

„Go! It´s your house!“ she whispered yelling at you.

As you opened the door you were met with the faces of your friends. They wanted to laugh at how weird and at the same time cute it looked, how Tara was right behind you, trying to see who the new intruder was.

„What are you guys doing here?“ you asked inquisitive. Not like you didn´t want them here but it was unexpected.

„Ha! Look at them! They don´t even want us here!“ Chad laughed. „Were you two in the middle of something?“ he asked as he kept raising his eyebrows up and down.

You and Tara looked horrified at the thought of something similar. „What?!“ „No!“

„I didn´t even say what I meant!“

Mindy shook her head and punched her brother in the back of his head before coming into your apartment with the rest of the group. She had a feeling that your meeting about the school project wouldn´t end up like she wanted it to. That’s why she called Chad and Anika to your flat to hang out.

A couple of days now passed by and your focus on study was growing every day. It was not like you were good at it, you didn´t like studying but also you enjoyed learning about new topics that were interesting to you.

Your father called you, asking how you were. You plan to see him in some close time. You missed him. Since started university, he was left almost alone in your hometown. It was not like he was complaining about it, or at least he didn´t say anything about it, but you knew him.

The thought of visiting him unexpectedly made you excited and at least that was something that made you look for something. Not thinking about school only.

Your friendship with Tara was also changing, without your notice. You didn´t argue like you used to. Yeah, still there are times when you two jump into each other's hair, like every day, but not so often.

It´s like an unspoken task that has to be fulfilled. The day wouldn´t be complete if you didn´t fight at least once a day.

The only people that noticed the little changes were your friends. It was really fun for them. When Mindy told everyone about you they couldn´t believe it. So they started to observe and yeah, she was right.

There was still some bickering between you two but it just has to be there. That wouldn´t be you.

Right now you were standing at someone´s party. Your back towards the wall, cup in your hand just looking around the people in the room. You weren’t that much drunk, almost sober. Your friends were somewhere scattered around.

You came together but as the alcohol was coming down the throat more and more they went everyone on their own. You didn´t feel like babysitting your friends today.

The house also wasn´t that big, there were people from your university and they were adults so it wasn´t like something would happen to them.

You were talking with one of your friends from the class, Ethan. He was a good guy, he grew close to your heart.

Then you catch Chad lying on the couch with his drink in hand and something across his face. You squinted your eyes at him and started to come a little closer and as soon as you were beside him you broke into a fit of laughter.

„Oh my God Chad.“ You laughed at your friend who had barely opened their eyes. He saw you and smiled wide at you.

„Y/N! I´m so glad I see you.“

He had some signs drawn with markers across his face. He had big circles around his eyes like glasses and mustache. On his forehead was written, “Even a little wizard can do big magic“.

„How do you feel buddy?“ you tapped his shoulder as you were looking at him with a smile across your face. He was hilarious.

„I feel super great Y/N, will you drink with me?“ he asked as he sat up on a couch and was now trying to get some bottle of alcohol from the table.

„Nah I don´t think-“ You wanted to decline his offer but he cut you off.

„Please, just one.“ He gave you big puppy eyes and you sighed. Chad was one of the guys that when they were drunk they weren´t aggressive but affectionate. How could you say no to him?

After your shot with Chad, you saw Mindy coming to her brother to take him home. She didn´t forget to laugh at his face as she saw him.

In a moment you also saw Tara chatting with some guy. She was smiling up at him as he was flirting with her. You suddenly felt goosebumps running down your spine, you shook your body at the disgusting sigh.

You didn´t care about who was Tara with, it was her life and her body. She could do whatever she wanted. It just made you disgusted in some way. Maybe because she was in your friend group? You didn´t know.

You threw your cup into the trash can and left the party.

Tara was walking to her home. When she didn´t see anywhere her friends and was starting to get bored she also started to make her way home. The girl saw what state Chad was and she knew he wouldn´t be able to go home by himself. So that was minus Chad and Mindy with Anika. You were also there but she barely saw you so she figured you went also home.

As she was getting close to her apartment she was trying to find the key.

No. Please no.

She doesn´t have them. The brunette must forget them inside. When Tara was leaving her house Sam was still home getting ready for work, she closed the door behind her.

Tara breathed out the air from the lungs and slid down the door. Sam will surely kill her when she finds out. But what now? She can´t just sleep in a hallway. Maybe she could try to go in by the window-

Of course not, she isn´t in a movie and their apartment is high. That would be dangerous.

Her eyes fell on the apartment´s door beside her. She hated the idea, it would crush her ego and everything inside of her. Tara was already really embarrassed by the situation she put herself into. It couldn´t be worse, right?

With heavy steps and heart, she was making her way toward your door. She knocked a couple of times, it was late so it was a big possibility you were sleeping already.

Just when she wanted to go back to her door you opened it. Your hair was a bit messy and you were wearing a big white shirt with some pants. Big sleepy eyes of yours were staring at her, processing what was happening.

Tara´s words were stuck in her throat. Like she was caught doing something that was forbidden.

„Hey- I forgot my keys and- I just wanted to ask-“

The girl sighed, she didn´t know what to say. She already regretted her decision to knock on your door. This was so embarrassing.

„If you could sleep over.“ You ended her sentence with crossed arms across your chest.

Despite how you and Tara act towards each other you would never let her sleep somewhere. Maybe also because you appreciate Sam and you know how Sam loves and adores her little sister.

„Come in.“ You opened your door wider for her to come. Tara couldn´t believe you. Really? Just like that without any comebacks and mocking words? Maybe you were too sleepy for that.

You made your way to your room brought a pillow and blanked with some of your clothes that are already small on you. You threw it on a couch and gave the clothes to Tara. „Here, you can change into this.“ Was this even you?

„And you will sleep on a couch. Don’t bother me.“

Yes, it was you.

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bbbuckaroo · 24 hours

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Can I just make sure everyone noticed that Buck was getting an OVERNIGHT BAG, specifically a toiletry bag, ready in the locker room and solely by seeing that Bobby knew he was going to see Tommy? Not a date that he was getting gussied up for with the plan to return to his own place - an overnight. So he’d still have plenty of time to go to Tommy’s after talking to Eddie and not have not cancel which I’ve seen theorized. They’ll just make up for lost time in the morning 😏

I’m feeling a drabble coming from this. Oh damn, here we go.

By the time Buck got to Tommy’s it was pushing eleven. The text to Tommy about stopping by Eddie’s to drop something off and check-in wasn’t questioned, Tommy telling him to take his time and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Wasn’t going anywhere. Those words resonated deep in Buck’s being, especially because, despite everything still being new, Buck believed him.

He opened the back door quietly with the key Tommy kept under the creepy gnome (“no one’s going to mess with him Evan.”), toeing off his shoes. The light over the oven had been left on, just enough to see the post-it on the orange countertop.

Pasta in the fridge for you, 45 seconds on high. ♡ T

Buck smiled, following the instructions to thoroughly enjoy the amazing bolognese which he’d thank Tommy for with breakfast in the morning. He was prepared for Tommy to tell him it wasn’t necessary and then he would shush a kiss and a, “well you’re getting it anyway.”

He quietly washed the container in the sink, placing it up on the drying rack before picking his bag back up and tip-toeing down the hallway. Making sure to shut the door before turning on the light, he pulled his toothbrush out, leaving his other toiletries by the shower. He used Tommy’s toothpaste, hesitating as to where to put his toothbrush. He put it back in his bag, for now.

Buck tugged on some shorts and a t-shirt, folding his other clothes up and carrying them down the rest of the hall. Tommy’s door was open a crack, enough to hear the white noise playing. Tommy told him early on that he couldn’t and never had slept in silence and Buck had no objections.

He placed his clothes on the dresser, sneaking around the bed to see an extra charger plugged in already. After he connected his phone he turned his attention to the large body-shaped lump on the other side. Not wanting to be like that chick from Paranormal Activity, he slipped into bed. Tommy was turned away from him, his broad shoulders rising and falling in sleep. Despite being disappointed in missing him awake that night, neither had to be up early. The thought had Buck doubting if he’d even be able to sleep with how much he was looking forward to it.

He didn’t want to disturb his boyfriend, his chest bursting with warmth at the word, he wondered if it ever wouldn’t. He hoped it didn’t. He slid his six foot plus frame under the covers as gracefully as he could but he quickly realized he shouldn’t have bothered. The moment his weight settled into the bed, there was a wave of dark, wild hair and miles of muscle washing over him.

Tommy’s arm went tight around his waist, his face finding the small of Buck’s neck like it had never left. Tommy’s nose bumped under his jaw, “hey you.” His voice was low and raspy, sending another kind of warmth through his body at the sound.

Buck replied quietly, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

Tommy shook his head, “wanted to when you got here.” He didn’t ask what time it was or pry for details, solely asking, “everything okay?”

Buck’s arm went around his shoulders, rubbing gently at Tommy’s back, “as it can be. Eddie’s, well …”

“Don’t have to tell me anything, s’between you two.” The consideration and trust Tommy had had Buck pressing a kiss to his forehead. Tommy hummed happily, fingers slipping just under the hem of Buck’s shirt but not venturing further. A couple quiet moments passed before Buck spoke.

“Bobby saw my bag and asked if I was coming to see you.” Tommy smiled against his neck.

“Nothing gets by that man does it?!”

Buck laughed, “nope.” He paused, fingers wandering into Tommy’s still damp hair. “Told me that you were good people. And that you were good for me.”

Tommy’s head rose, sleepy eyes meeting Buck’s as he replied, “he might have missed something there.”

Buck’s brows furrowed, Tommy leaning in to bump their noses together, “we’re good for each other.”

Buck beamed, happily returning the gentle kiss Tommy gifted him. It didn’t go past that, Tommy sneaking in one more before tucking himself back into him.

“Goodnight Evan.”

“Night Tommy.”

The morning brought more kisses, these a bit more leading than the ones the night before but still slow, sweet, waking Buck up from the inside out as their bodies reacquainted themselves eagerly. They did have time to make up for after all. Later, after Tommy brushed his damp hair back and kissed him again he told Buck he’d meet him in the kitchen when he was ready.

Buck’s parting words were, watching his brick house of a man slip out the door, “don’t you dare cook breakfast for me Kinard.”

An amused laugh, “no promises.” Buck rose soon there after, stretching with the delicious popping of his joints. He tugged on the clothes he had mysteriously lost upon waking, padding into the bathroom. Imagine his surprise when he found his toothbrush had moved.

Right next to Tommy’s.

Of note, I know that the firefighters bring a big backpack/duffel for their shifts but I wasn’t specific enough in saying that I think what Bobby noticed most was a toiletry bag (I tried to confirm it was what Buck had in his hands but couldn’t). Assuming they keep their toiletries there, as we’ve seen in multiple episodes, I’m guessing this is what Bobby noticed and said, hmm? Otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything. Or it’s just showbiz 😝

#911 abc #911 show #evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #bobby nash #bucktommy #sleepover time #can imagine they’ll be doing more than braiding each other’s hair #hoping there won’t be a need for an overnight bag soon #bedmate era #bucktommy fic #buck x tommy fic #post had a mind of its own

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tahseenmush · 2 days

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The painful reality in Gaza

Suffering in Gaza is not limited to displacement from one place to another in search of safety . The story here is much bigger than this. Our lives have turned into a queue Every day we wake up in the morning to stand in line trying to get a little water to drink or even to wash some dirty clothes. And another queue so you can buy a loaf of bread or a mobile phone charge. Suffering is painful and helplessness is even more painful. Help me by donating so that I and my family can evacuate Gaza and escape the genocide here .

https://gofundme.com/Helptahseenfamily

#free gaza #fund #fundraising #go fund me #free palestine #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #war on gaza

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formyparasocialrelationships · 2 days

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Mental Health

A/N: From what I’ve gathered from his songs, Joost has BPD and PTSD. I myself have ADHD and PTSD, so I do resonate quite a lot with some of his songs, like I think many of you also do. So I’m going to delve a little into that for this one.

……………

Warnings: Mental health struggles, because for some strange reason I find comfort in writing about these things.

……………

Some days were just like this. It wasn’t everyday, but it did happen often enough for you to be used to it. Both for you and Joost. Some days it was just only one of you, and sometimes it was both of you. And sometimes, it almost felt too much.

Frustration, irritation and aggression could form quickly in your home on tense days. Both of you could become quite passive-aggressive, and there had been times where passive-aggressive comments turned into arguments. However, it was never a sudden explosion of anger and yelling. No, it was more common for the two of you to be grumpy, with a minor tension growing beneath it. But you were adults, with a long practice of communicating your feelings, before any explosive feelings would erupt. It wasn’t uncommon for either of you to spend time alone on opposite sides of your home, with either one of you expressing you needed some time to process your emotions. Joost in one room, either working on his music, or spending time on whatever media that had garnered his interest, while you were in another room, doing what you found comfort in. However this would rarely last longer than half a day, before either you or Joost found yourself poking your head into the other’s room, seeking some cozy attention.

Though you and Joost worked hard to take care of your mental health, sudden emotions would occur from time to time. It was normal, and you both knew it, and helped each other through it the best you could. There were days where your RSD would kick up, making you unsure whether or not Joost was still interested in you. And Joost did have those days where a minor criticism from you, such as something he was working on, would send his thoughts spiraling, fearing that you were planning on leaving him. You could see the panic flash before his eyes in those situations, and he could sense your silent nervousness was anxiety was eating you up from the inside. And each time, both of you found that spending time together was the best way to work through it. Putting your phones far away, and laying around in either the bed or on the couch, talking in soft hushed voices while playing with each other’s fingers. It worked wonders for the two of you.

If there was a time of day where both you and Joost struggled, it was during the mornings. Either you would oversleep, having given into the struggle of getting up. On the days where you somehow managed to wake up and stay awake, you and Joost would pep talk each other up, until it didn’t feel so draining to get out of bed.

Both you and Joost did things that some people might find a little strange. But to the two of you, and a vast majority of your friends, it was perfectly normal. Nonverbal communication, such as small sounds to express emotions, a lack of sounds, facial expression and changes in body posture. Those close to you would notice these things as well, but for the two of you, it was much more obvious. The small things you did, letting the other know that you needed some sort of comfort. Like when you started leaning slightly up against Joost while out in a bigger crowd, making him wrap his arm around you like it was a reflex, before making sure that you were okay. Need to go somewhere less busy in order to calm down? Just needed a hug? Just feeling cuddly? He would always make sure. And just like you would lean against him, he would lean against you, to which your reaction was the same. Wrapping your arm around his midsection, before quietly asking him was okay.

At times, your love language was a little different. Not to say that you didn’t shower each other with love in the form of hugs, kisses, affirmations, acts of service and much more. But there were also other ways you would do so. One of them being with memes and humor. At times, it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to communicate mainly through memes, whether that would be sending each other memes, or quoting them in your day to day conversations. You had long ago lost count of how many times you and Joost have folded over yourself in laughter, unable to speak in anything other than Vine snippets or old YouTube videos. Like the time you were cooking together, and Joost randomly blurred out the lyrics to “chocolate rain”. That started a chain reaction of memes and laughter none of you could stop.

Another way your love language showed, was in the way both you and Joost worked to create a space, where both of you could be yourselves. No masking, no fearing of being different, allowing both to communicate your needs - even if it did cause some tension every once in a while, just like any other relationship. A good example was when you returned home to find Joost just chilling on the floor, eyes closed, having just gone through a dissociated episode, deciding that the living room floor was a good place to calm down, only acknowledging your loud hello with a small mumble. And how did you react to this? Well, like any well meaning girlfriend, you kicked your shoes off, hung your jacket on the hook, before you laid down next to Joost on the floor. None of you said a word, but just laid there. With a tender finger you poked his hand, as a way to ask if it was okay you were there. Joost answered by opening his hand for you, letting you intertwine your fingers as you continued to lay in peaceful silence, letting Joost work through what he was feeling at the moment.

Though you and Joost’s relationship could be tumultus at times, it was no less loving. Just like any other relationship, you and Joost would fight, often due to stress and overstimulation, but you also loved each other. Both of you did the work and walked the extra mile, knowing fully well how much work it would take when you first decided to get into this relationship. You never shifted the blame, knowing it takes two to dance a tango. But though it took a lot from both of you, you were happy together, fully intending to keep what you had built. Together, you had managed to create a space where you both felt comfortable, and where both of you actually felt like you were able to become better versions of yourselves.

#joost klein #joost #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joostice #justice for joost #europapa #my friends decided to call him euro daddy #and euro jesus #if you're reading this joost #you're euro daddy and euro jesus now #i dont make the rules

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peachessndreamss · 2 days

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Thunderstruck

Summery : When a scorching hot summer a thunderstorm wakes you and Eddie and gets the two of you worked up

Characters : Eddie Munson x fem!reader. no use of y/n

Warnings : explicit sexual content including, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex, canon typical drug use

Word count : 3.2 k

A/N : Previously posted on my now deleted page. Honestly just re-sharing because I still love this idea and this character. And I'm willing the summer to start here.

Is there anything sweeter than a summer thunderstorm? The weather had been oppressively hot for two weeks now, the grass was dead and yellow with the lack of rain and the soil in every flower bed deeply cracked and dusty. The town pool was full to bursting every day of the week with children and adults alike trying to escape the heat.

Eddie's home often became so hot in the day it was physically impossible to stay inside for more than a few minutes without feeling like you were being cooked alive in an oversized tin can. You’d spend the hours of sunshine sitting outside on old and creaking sun loungers listening to music on Eddie’s stereo, reading or dozing. Eddie would strip down to his boxers and stretch out his slim, pale body in the shade but only after you’d smothered him in sunscreen and he was so greasy with it he looked like a professional wrestler.

At night the trailer was a little cooler, but still every window needed to be flung open wide to coax in the almost non-existent cool breeze that danced on the warm night air. You’d sleep under a thin, cotton sheet, as anything else would have been too uncomfortable and even then, with Eddie running hot, he often abandoned the sheet all together and just slept naked and uncovered.

It had been an easy Saturday, nothing to be achieved and nowhere for either of you to be. Band practice had been cried off due to the heat and D&D wasn’t until Tuesday so you and Eddie had spent the day on the sun loungers. Eddie was re-reading The Hobbit, his copy battered and bent at the spine from the many times it had been opened and poured over. He would read his favourite parts aloud to you, giving every character their own distinct voice, he’d read it so many times now he was reciting it from memory rather than reading.

After a dinner of take away pizza enjoyed outdoors with Uncle Wayne before he headed off for his shift , and a few joints to see the day home, you and Eddie had climbed into his bed, laying as far apart as possible as to not make each other warmer than necessary.

It was very early in the morning when you were woken up, the room was still dark, not even a hint of the dawn in the darkness so it was the sound that had disturbed you and after listening for a few seconds you heard it again, the deep, rolling roar of thunder. It lasted for as long as 10 seconds before fading into a heavy silence. Then the rain started, a gentle plink-plonk at first but within moments it was a downpour. Heavy rain drops slamming into the roof of the trailer and bouncing back up only to fall again. Then another rumble of thunder and a flash of bright white lightning.

“Eddie,” you whispered, grabbing at his arm and tugging gently, “Eddie, wake up,”.

Eddie snorted and shifted onto his back, turning his head and squinting at you.

“Was it?” he grunted, confused and upset by being woken up. His nose scrunched up and his eyes struggled to open.

“Listen,” you insisted quietly, grabbing hold of his forearm. His skin was hot to touch and clammy.

It took him a few seconds to realise what you were talking about, as he listened, his brows unfurrowed and his eyes eased open. He cocked his head to one side, the tangle of curls under his head crackling on the fabric of his pillow.

“It’s raining?” he asked, glancing at you.

“It’s a thunderstorm,” you replied with a grin.

“Awesome,” he said with a grin as he sat up and flung himself off the bed and across the small room to the window, yanking back the light curtain and taking in the scene.

The sky seemed to glow dark red and stormy grey, the clouds low and flat, hanging over the town like a wet blanket. The rain that was falling was fast and heavy and the clattering, pattering sounds it made caused a shiver to run up Eddie’s spine. Suddenly there was a deafening roll of thunder, so loud it felt like it was happening inside your head, it was followed only a second later by a fork of lightning that illuminated the whole sky as it raced toward the ground.

“Shit, that’s close,” Eddie said over the sound of the rain.

“It’s so cool,” you replied, standing next to him at the window.

The air outside was now much cooler and it whipped into the open window, bringing with it a smattering of rain. Eddie slipped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. The two of you watched three more lightning strikes, Eddie was certain that the last one must have hit his favourite picnic bench because the strike had been so close.

You were now a little bored with the weather and your attention turned to the man standing beside you. You turned your head and placed a gentle kiss on his jaw, then another soft kiss on his cheek before bringing one hand up his naked back and shifting his curls away from his ear so you could kiss the lobe of his ear. You felt Eddie shudder and watched his eyes close as you let your lips linger on such a sensitive spot for him.

"It's cooler now isn't it?" You said softly, turning your whole body so your front was now at his side, you placed one hand on his stomach, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin and the slight rasp of the hair that led down to his groin.

"Yeah, a bit," Eddie swallowed as your hand moved a little lower down his stomach.

You moved your head forward and snuggled into Eddie's neck, catching the smell of his sweat from his hair and his skin as you dragged your teeth against the soft skin.

"Let's go back to bed Eddie," you mewled, your hand slipping even lower on his stomach, feeling the distinct change in his body hair, from the loose curls of his happy trail to the tighter and coarser curls of his pubic hair.

Eddie swallowed hard, his cock already hardening and thickening at your touch. In less than an inch you'd be able to wrap your hand around the root of his dick and find him so ready to fuck. While the weather had been as hot and uncomfortable as it had been sex had been completely off the menu, neither of you liking the idea of any additional physical exercise than was strictly necessary.

Eddie grabbed hold of your wrist before you reached the apex of his thighs and brought your wrist up to his mouth, biting gently at the soft underside of your wrist where a few delicate veins rose up from under your skin, almost imperceptible to the eye but Eddie knew they were there and how it made you squirm when they were touched.

A thrill of pleasure ran around your naked body as his teeth caressed the delicate skin at your wrist before he kissed it softly.

"Bed please, my love," he whispered before letting your wrist go and giving you a little bump with his hip in the direction of the bed.

You smiled sweetly as you slipped out of his embrace and stepped back to the bed. Climbing on the end of the bed, glancing back over your shoulder while on all fours, finding Eddie watching you with his mouth open and a hungry look in his eyes.

"Like this?" You asked, wiggling your hips from side to side.

Eddie shook his head as he started to gather up his curls into an elastic he kept around his wrist.

"On your back baby," he replied as he tightened the bun at the back of his head.

You grinned, feeling your body’s Pavlovian response to seeing his hair tied back like that as you flipped over onto your back in the centre of the small bed, your head resting on the pillow as Eddie positioned himself comfortably between your thighs. He'd settled himself with his cock trapped between his stomach and the mattress so when the mood took him he could grind down on the mattress.

He ran his tongue over his lips as he looked up at your face, one of his forearms slipping around your thigh and lifted it onto his shoulder, your foot now resting on his back. His other hand pushed your other thigh aside, pushing your sex open for him. He made a sound of appreciation deep in his chest before he used two fingers to spread your slick lips open, exposing you even more intimately, giving him unlimited access to your clit, your entrance and with a tilt of your hips he'd have access to your tight asshole too. But right now, Eddie only had one thing on his mind.

"Hey sweetheart," he cooed softly, dipping his head forward and placing a soft, closed lip kiss just above your clit.

"I've missed you," he continued in a soft, lilting voice, placing another kiss just below your clit.

You made a soft purring sound, lifting your hips up a little, urging him to get to the main event. Eddie chuckled and gave you a very gentle slap on the thigh.

“Don't rush me," he insisted, lifting his head to speak to you, "we need to get reacquainted and she's shy," he added before touching the pad of his thumb to your clit, the sudden direct contact making you jerk your hips off the bed and your hands claw at the bedsheet.

"See?" He said with a grin as he cocked his eyebrow at you, "she's skittish,".

Eddie returned his attention to your pussy and continued his slow torture, kissing around your clit, occasionally giving a small lick either side but never touching it directly. In what felt like hours to you, but was only 2 minutes in reality Eddie had you rocking and twisting your hips, trying to force him to give you the contact you wanted.

"Eddie please, please please," you moaned as your hands fisted at the bedsheet.

Eddie chuckled softly, rubbing his chin against the thigh he had hooked over his shoulder.

"Needy, needy girl," he whispered sweetly before finally kissing your clit.

The bud was tight and thumping in time with your heartbeat and Eddie's wet mouth created an explosion of pleasure and pain as the thousands of nerve endings were stimulated in unison. You gave a strangled cry, bucking your hips up and bringing one of your hands down on the back of Eddie's head, holding him in place, rocking your hips against his open mouth, feeling the hot, wetness of his tongue as he danced it over and around your clit. There was no consistency to his movements yet so while pleasure rolled around your body you knew he wasn't trying to make you come yet. He was still holding back.

You moaned and bucked again, pushing Eddie's head down harder, feeling the press of his nose into your pubic mound.

"Eddie, fuck, Eddie," you groaned as you noticed for the first time the slow, undulating movements of his lower body.

You lifted your head up and watched his hips pressing and grinding down against the mattress, the muscles in his bare ass popping as he rolled his hips and clenched his glutes and thighs. The sight of him fucking at the mattress sent your body and mind spiraling as you dropped back onto the pillow and moaned loudly, your whole body suddenly more alive than ever.

Eddie's tongue was now constantly licking at your clit, his lips fixed around it creating a hot, wet seal around the bud. Eddie let you buck and grind and hold his face down all you needed until you finally reached your peak. Your voice disappeared for a few seconds as you felt nothing but hot pleasure rushing around your body.

As your muscles clenched and stars exploded behind your eyes a streak of lightning raced across the sky, turning the room as bright as your body felt for a few seconds. Your hand released Eddie's head and he moved a little, not enough to break contact but to ease up on your clit, stopping the intense licking and changing back to soft kisses to draw out your climax until you were shaking and writhing, nothing but soft mewling noises coming from your mouth.

"Oh god," you moaned softly as Eddie moved his kisses to the inside of your thighs, his eyes travelling up your body to your face.

"That was so cool baby," he whispered, "you came so hard there was lightning,".

You gave a soft laugh, lifting your head to look at the sweet man between your legs, he was looking up at you, his big brown eyes looking soft and loving.

"Get up here and fuck me," you said, twisting a curl of his hair that had fallen loose around your finger.

"Fuck yeah baby," Eddie replied as he clambered up, crawling up your body, pushing your thighs apart and bringing his hard cock right to your waiting entrance.

You were both beyond ready so Eddie sank into you easily, placing his hands on your thighs and drawing them up his body so you cradled him either side of his chest. He rested with his forearms either side of your head and kissed you deeply and he pressed his hips forward, filling your body with his, making you whole and creating a passionate fusion of your two bodies and your two souls.

You broke away from his mouth and moaned his name, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging deep and leaving red marks in his alabaster skin. Eddie hissed at the burn of your nails in his flesh but the hiss quickly turned to a laugh as he dipped his head and licked up the column of your neck to your chin before kissing you again, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he drew his hips back before driving forward again.

You broke away from his lips, taking a deep gasping breath as the head of Eddie's cock hit right against your g-spot. As the lights burst behind your closed eyes the sky seemed to shake with a huge rumble of thunder, it was so loud and so close it felt like it might have made the trailer shake but it was hard to tell if the shaking was the weather, or Eddie as he picked up his pace.

He moves from drawing out and pushing forward to grinding, keeping his cock buried deeply inside you and rocking his hips back and forth, meaning he was able to constantly stimulate you internally as well as externally, your clit now being rubbed by the muscles of Eddie's pelvis. You clawed at Eddie's back, crying out as you felt your second climax starting to build deep inside your belly.

"Eddie, oh God, Eddie," you breathed.

You moved your hands from his back to his face. Catching his cheeks between your hands and bringing his face close to yours, pressing your foreheads together. His face was sweaty and so was yours, your two sweats mingling on your skin.

You felt so completely connected to him it was overwhelming, Eddie was everywhere and, in that moment, he was everything as well. The intimacy of it all aided in pushing you over the edge very quickly, your orgasm burst outward with the power of an exploding star. Your legs gripping Eddie's chest and your arms dragging his upper body closer to yours so it was impossible to tell who skin was who's.

With a stuttering and guttural cry, taken by surprise by your suddenly gripping, milking pussy Eddie came, hard and deep. Filling you up as another rumble of thunder and flash of lightning split the sky.

The two of you seem to float, for a while, suspended in space and time, your bodies both corporeal and ethereal, human and divine. You come back to the sound of the pattering rain and the tickle of Eddie's curls, the weight of his body feels safe and the heat of his skin feels comforting.

"Eddie baby?" You said softly, stroking your fingers down his spine.

"Yeah?" He mumbled, his face pressed deep into the space beside your neck.

"You okay?".

"Baby," Eddie sighed, lifting himself up to look at your face, "that was the best," he grinned.

You giggled, more of the physical sensations of post sex coming back to you. An ache in your hips, a stretch between your thighs, and warm wetness on your thighs.

"It was good," you agreed.

"I think we should always have sex when there's a thunderstorm," he said sleepily as he moved, withdrawing his softening cock from you and flopping down beside, patting a spot on his chest where he wanted you to put your head.

You wriggled toward him and placed your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around your body and the two of you kissed deeply.

"I feel like we just conceived the anti-Christ or something," you said with a giggle.

Eddie scoffed and shook his head.

"Don't even joke," he replied, kissing the top of your head tenderly.

The rain seemed to be slowing and the rumbles of thunder sounded further away, the storm seemed to be rolling on, maybe waking up other young lovers as it went.

Eddie dropped off to sleep after a few minutes, his body and mind completely relaxed and satisfied. You stayed awake a little longer, the day was getting lighter by the second and Eddie's features were being revealed to you in glorious golden morning hues. You were contemplating how much he looked like an angel from a painting when you dropped off to sleep yourself.

The two of you woke up a second time when Wayne came home from his shift with paper bags of hot and greasy breakfast food. The three of you sat around the small table and ate. Wayne was tired from his shift and you and Eddie were dozy from being up half the night enjoying each other's bodies. The day after the storm was cooler, the air fresher. The plants seemed to be greener and the sky bluer and even the people seemed more friendly, Eddie's usually sullen neighbour greeting you when you stepped out of the trailer to find your rain soaked sneakers.

Eddie brought his guitar out that day and he sat beside you on the same sun lounger and strummed chords, humming tunes and making up nonsense songs. Songs about his D&D campaign, songs about summer, songs about love, and one about passionate nights while lightning splits the sky.

Hearing him recount the night before in his deep, rich singing voice sent shivers down your spine.

"You're not sharing that one with the band are you?" You asked as he came up with a lyric about how the sound of the thunder was second to the sounds you make when he’s inside you.

Eddie chuckled and shook his head.

"This one's just for you and me baby,".

#Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson romance #Eddie Munson x y/n #Stranger Things fanfic #Joseph Quinn #Joseph Quinn character #Eddie Munson imagine #Stranger Things character #eddie munson x female reader

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lucysstoryworld · 14 hours

Text

The Tormented & The Unforgiven | Azriel x Reader

Summary: What happens when one of Azriel's most trusted spies, someone he is beginning to care for, betrays him?

Warnings: This is dark and quite graphic. Abuse, torture, waterboarding, death. MDNI. Angst.

Word Count: 7,558

Masterlist

This wasn't happening... this was all just a sick nightmare. You'd wake up at any moment now, tangled in the sheets of your bed. The sun rising over a cool winter morning and trickling through your window would lull you from your slumber at any moment, you were certain. You tried to pinch yourself and were met with a tug. As if on cue, a dull yet deep ache permeated from your shoulders to your arms. A tingling feeling vibrated your fingertips, chained above your head. Oh... yes. Breaths rattled through your lungs, a crackling filling the dank space.

Definitely not happening... surely not.

Opening your eyes was a chore. They stung, the faelight from the hallway burned your retinas. A low hiss and another attempt later, your eyes remained open. The ache in your neck felt insignificant compared to that of those pulsing at random points in your body. The gorsian shackles choking your wrists and ankles ensured the pain would last. An low, agonised moan escaped your lips.

Definitely is happening. The agony that spread through every nerve of your body was all the proof you needed. Raising your head, you desperately tried to clear the fog. You were suspended from the ceiling with gorsian shackles, with matching chains gripping your ankles. The smell of damp and mould was almost as distracting as the cold that nipped at your body and heightened the ache of your injuries. There were small puddles on the floor beneath you, a leaking roof too - high risk of infection to the wounds that were littered across your body. Your mind was still lagging behind reality, your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. Breathe. Remember your training.

A deep breath in, you focused on filling your lungs to their capacity. Pursing your lips, you blew the breath out slowly. Your focus remained solely on controlling the exhalation, all the way until there was nothing left. You repeated this twice more, just as your boss had trained you. Our job can be terrifying at times, this technique can help you focus and bring your heart rate down. Make our decision making more rational, he had said. He was right, you had come to realise. The breathing exercise had allowed you to calm down on more than a handful of occasions. That being said, it did not make your current situation any easier to understand. You remembered how you got here now... and you still couldn't wrap your head around it.

***

It was a normal day, for you at least. Returning from a mission a day previous, you had today to report your findings to Azriel and to rest. Exhaustion laid heavy on your body, the mission had been a long one with little reward. Although every mission had been similar to that as of late. While Eris was to be somewhat trusted, as Azriel had put it, it would be unwise to not send his own spies to make sure the High Lord and Lady were not being blindsided. So that was your detail. Stake out the Autumn Court and High Lord Beron along with his family. Figure out what was occurring behind the curtains and try to discover Beron's motives... at least so Azriel didn't have to rely on the word of Eris Vanserra. Though your boss had warned you to keep as much distance as you could, with all the Autumn Court soldiers being bewitched he did not wish that fate on you or any of your colleagues... yet you couldn't help the flutter in your heart when he had expressed this concern while looking directly into your eyes. You allowed yourself the small comfort (or delusion) of believing he told you this because he cared about you.

You used to have a rendezvous point with the Spymaster. Yet, after a rough mission in which you were too incapacitated to move from your bed, it soon became the routine for you and Azriel to debrief at your home. Not that you were complaining. You lived a solitary life being in your line of work. There were no records of your existence anywhere, no family to remember you nor any friend to seek your company. A truly invisible female. Apart from Azriel of course, though you were sure he did not see you as a friend or even acquaintance, just his employee. Not even his second in command. Though it did not stop you from feeling excited by his visits. They reminded you that you were alive. That you, at least, had one person who knew of your existence. So, with the butterflies of a youth in your stomach, you prepared for your visitor. You had already written out your report and left it sitting on your living room table. You had dressed in your usual style, and waited for Azriel to come to your door. The rushing of the Sidra filled your living area through the open window. Your generous salary as a spy allowed you to build this house, along the youthful stage of the river where it raced downhill and eventually through Velaris. You had not yet laid your eyes on the city that was only a depiction in your mind from how Azriel had described it. You knew he trusted you at least that much, to allow you to know where he resided. He had once offered to bring you there. Then the war happened and it became the last thing on either of your minds.

A series of knocks pulled you from your wandering thoughts. The seemingly nondescript rhythm of taps on the door made sure you knew who was on the other side. You fought back the slight grin that threatened to widen. You chided yourself, you were acting no better than the human females in the tales of princesses and knights you had read as a teenager. Your teenaged years had been rough, you had travelled up and down Prythian five times over, stealing and tricking to get by. You knew you wouldn't live as long as other fae did back then, your way of life bound to end you sooner rather than later by means of starvation or by disgruntled merchants. The books you nicked from time to time allowed you to fall into a different reality for a short while where life was much simpler. Where life consisted of whether or not the stars would align and let the princess remain with her true love. A moment later, you opened the door with the signature smile stretching across your lips. As quick as your smile appeared, it disappeared. Azriel was not alone.

Standing beside your boss was another Illyrian male few inches shorter though no less intimidating. For every blue siphon Azriel possessed, this male had just as many red ones. This must be Cassian, the General. You glanced at your boss warily, feeling slightly betrayed by him as your privacy was breached. Though from the look of his amber gaze, you knew it was not a good time to tackle him on it.

"Come in," You mumbled confusedly and widened the door. They stepped in and you watched as Azriel guided the warlord to sit at the table you had just been daydreaming at moments ago. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?" Careful, you warned yourself. Something wasn't right about this situation. Instinct had you scrambling to gain control of the unfolding events.

"No. Sit down," Azriel ordered. This was not the male you were accustomed to. While one could never describe Azriel as flamboyant, he was also not usually this cold toward around you. Quiet yet caring, not cold and calculating.

"Yes, sir," was your reply and you settled in the seat opposite the two males. Your heart was beginning to thump in anticipation. Your tendencies had you wishing you at least had your dagger nearby. You trust him, you always have, the voice in your mind whispered. Reaching out to open the report between the three of you, you did not miss how the General tensed ever so slightly. It was a movement so slight that, to the untrained eye, it would have been unnoticeable. Meeting Azriel's eyes once again, you allowed the confusion to show on your face. "I assume you want the report of my previous mission in Autumn." You weren't sure if it was a question or a statement.

A few beats of silence passed and both males stared you down. You waited, staring back. If there was something amiss, you would not allow them to think it was something to do with you. "Go ahead." Azriel's tone was so... cruel. Like you were a mouse caught in the claws of a street cat. Like he was toying with you.

You would not bite. If there was an issue, they were more than capable of speaking plain to you. "As you know, this mission spanned a period of four months," You began. As you continued to debrief your mission, you felt as though you were speaking to brick walls. While both sets of eyes remained solely focused on you, they seemed to be looking through you. As though what you were saying was insignificant. You tried to make sense of it. There was no major outcomes of your mission, so perhaps that was the reason for their demeanour. "I observed a member of High Lord Beron's spy circle enter and leave fairly often. I could not get close enough to determine why or what was the reason for these visits. I dug as much as I could but could only ascertain that it had something to do with Eris. If he has been absent then it is likely because he is being watched closely." Closing the report, you slid it across the table to Azriel, "Anything I may have missed will be in my report like always." You never missed out on any detail, though you always said it to Azriel.

You sat back in your chair. There was usually some discussion after you finished your report. Azriel would question you on various parts of your account in order to try make a connection that you could have missed. When you were new to the world of being a spy, it annoyed you to no end. You did not enjoy being second guessed. Azriel had explained to you that all he wished to do was brainstorm with you, try to figure out the puzzles together. A problem shared is a problem halved. So the lack of conversation after only added to uncertainty and began to grate on your nerves.

"Anything else?" The General pressed. Your head shot to him. He looked ready to pounce on you at any moment.

Heckles raised, your brows furrowed, "No?"

"Are you sure?" Azriel bit. If Cassian looked ready to pounce, Azriel looked ready to kill.

"Yes, I'm sure," You snapped back, heart beginning to race. "Can you cut it out? Get to the point!"

You cursed yourself for slightly jumping when Azriel's fist slammed against your wooden table. Your mind ran in circles around itself trying to decipher what it was that you had done to have your boss so visibly angry. So visibly struggling to control his fury. "I am being more than patient with you. You have one final chance to reveal what you have done... I cannot and will not refrain from extrapolating it through any means necessary." His voice was a vicious growl that seemed to make your very bones tremble.

Your stomach felt weak, your cool and calm spy demeanour a thing of the past. Sweat accumulated along your brow as your eyes frantically darted between your boss and the General. "I-I..." You hesitated. You were drawing a blank and a curse quickly followed from your breath at just how guilty you looked, especially to one so keen as the Spymaster of Night himself. "I truly do not know what this is about... please I'm sure whatever has happened is some sort of miscommunication." You nearly fell over your chair as you stumbled out of it, trying to create some distance between yourself and the hulking Illyrians who were beginning to stalk towards you in a strange unison. They didn't appear to be doing it consciously though that did nothing to ease the terror snaking up your spine as they drew nearer. "Azriel please... you must believe me. I don't know what this is about. You know me!" It was true. Azriel was the only living soul on The Mother's land that knew you through and through.

A cruel snort from Azriel seemed to dash any hope from you. "I thought I did, though that was my mistake," Azriel replied. In an instant both males grabbed your arms and forced you to your knees. You hated to admit it, but the feeling of betrayal had tears beginning to line your eyes. You hated it even more when you began to plead with him, beg him to believe you. However neither Cassian nor Azriel replied. They only secured chains around your wrists and ankles and a charmed sack over your head. The sack blocked all sound and sight, not even a crack of light. Your panic created a lump in your through as the only noise to greet you was your own laboured breaths. The tears finally dribbled over when your felt the hands of Azriel and Cassian roughly push and shove you to and fro. You knew where you were headed. You had delivered a target or two to the dungeons of the Hewn City -- well you had delivered them to Azriel's second in command, or Azriel himself, to bring there.

You knew that those targets never left those dungeons either.

***

You remembered now. Some time had passed from then... a few days... a few weeks... you weren't sure. It was so desperately, desperately dark down here. You had been rendered unconscious a number of times. Whatever information Azriel believed you possessed translated to him using all manner of force to squeeze it out of you. He allowed other members of his spy circle... your spy circle to torture this mystery information out. He knew the betrayal would cut deeper than any blade or whip ever could. Despite the kindness within Azriel, he was a talented torturer. He seemed to know that mere flesh wounds wouldn't break someone like you. You had known cuts and bruises long before you ever came into Azriel's employ. And he knew that. Seeing the quiet rage in your former colleagues eyes, seeing your own betrayal reflected in their gazes, tore something in you. You had worked with each one of them on one mission or another. Now they were taking their pain out on you... traitor had been imbedded onto your torso by Alyia in her native tongue from the continent. Elijah had pulled out your molars, his knife tearing strips from your gums in the process. Oscar ripped three fingernails from you. You screamed and wailed that you knew nothing. That this was a mistake. Though your pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

So you hung there, despair your only company until the next barrage began. No one would believe you, that much was painfully obvious now. They would not allow you a quick nor painless death... so you stopped eating and drinking. You would at least keep your dignity in controlling your own death, even if your mouth had the consistency of sandpaper and hunger pains were a torture in their own right.

Footsteps began to echo toward your cell. They were light, but making themselves known. Azriel. He had not shown himself since you had been dragged here. A strategic move on his part. He was saving his presence until it was absolutely necessary, you were sure. He allowed your colleagues to begin chipping away at your presumed resolve. Allowed them to begin cracking you, so he could deliver the final blow and reveal all your secrets. You raised your head, waiting for him with half lidded eyes. Seeing him standing there, wings flared and a tray in hand, brought a rush of emotions. Anger, rage, despair, betrayal, injustice. You wanted to scream at him, to curse his name and his existence. The urge bubbled in your chest. However, when you laid your eyes upon him, it all died on your tongue. What use had screaming gotten you thus far. Thus, you dipped your chin once again.

You closed your eyes and listened as he passed through the door. Listened as he placed the tray on the table that had held pliers, daggers and whips in the prior hours. You felt his shadows snake and slither over your aching body. They seemed to bite and nip at each of your injuries. You twitched at their barrage, it felt like tiny needles poking at your mangled body. Even so, you would not raise your head. As silent as a mouse, Azriel moved to stand before you. His shiny boots were all you could see. A groan erupted from you when he grabbed your cheeks and forced your head upright. His amber eyes burned with hatred, though they wandered all over your faced. Lingered on the swelling on your left eye that would soon become too large for you to open and close.

"Hunger strike, really?" He questioned unimpressed, squeezing your cheeks so hard that the cuts inside your mouth reopened and dribbled out of your lips onto his gloved hand.

You stared through him, forcing your mind out of that dingy cell and back to your peaceful home. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the flowing Sidra over the noise of your own agony. If you thought hard enough, you could smell the breads you used to make more than the smell of your blood. If you thought hard enough, you could transport yourself to a reality where this wasn't happening.

A harsh slap reeled you back into the dungeon. Stars danced across your vision. The lack of food and water made that slap feel like a punch. When they cleared, you gazed upon the cruel beauty of Azriel Shadowsinger. It seemed like eons ago that this male set butterflies afloat in your stomach. Now all he did was set led weighing on your stomach. "Keep your eyes on me." You hated the way you obeyed. You were terrified of the horrors Azriel could release unto you. It was no secret to anyone in Prythian the creativity he possessed in the arts of torture. He raised a cup of water to your lips. No. You jerked back, clenching your teeth together. He struggled with you, holding the back of your head. Shaking your head, you dodged his attempt to hydrate you by any means necessary. His fingers curled around your blood-matted hair, and he yanked with all his might. You shrieked at the pain and Azriel used the excuse to pour the water in. You choked and sputtered until you expelled as much of it as you could.

"Fuck you!" You coughed out, your throat raw and breaths heaving.

An impatient snarl passed through Azriel's lips. He walked back to the small table to where the tray rested. You watched this time, and saw that the tray consisted of three jugs and some rags, along with the cup in his hand. One of the jugs slammed back onto the table, its contents spilling over the edged. "Let's try this again, agent," Azriel spoke steady. "You will drink and then you will eat. You will not get out of this the easy way. Is that clear?" His tone promised violence.

"No," You voice was low but defiant.

A humoured chuckle escaped the Spymaster as he returned to your front. "I was not requesting," Was all he said before he grabbed your head again and attempted to force the water down your neck. You thrashed and shook, though a couple drops managed their way past your protests. You detested that the cool water felt nice on your raw throat. The struggle continued until the remanets of the glass dribbled down the rags that covered your battered body.

Wordlessly, Azriel returned the table again. This time, he abandoned his cup and picked up the jug. And a rag. "I gave you two chances to drink properly," He began and immersed the rag into the jug. Your heart began to race like it had many times over the last while. Taking the rag out of the water, Azriel held it over your face. His hand slid to the back of your head and held your hair so tight that you couldn't move an inch. Before you had a chance to take a breath, Azriel began to pour the water slowly over the rag. You tried to gasp, though the water made you splutter and choke. Your mind went wild with panic, your chest heaving in attempt to draw in enough air. Trying to scream only resulted in weak groans and more choking. "This will go on for as long as you wish to protest," Azriel began. "I will have the water topped up regularly. You will not know more than a moments peace until you either confess what you have done or until you have decided to eat and drink." Dread swirled in your guts. You had enacted this very torture on a male before, it really could go on for hours. For as long as was necessary.

"I-I-" You tried to choke out. The water halted for a moment. "I don't know what I must confess! Azriel please-!"

"Don't. You. Dare!" Azriel roared. You body trembled and your head pounded from his grip on your hair. "Cut the shit!"

For the first time since you had been brought here, a loud sob ripped through your throat. You had screamed and wailed from the torture before, but you hadn't outright cried like this. Your pride had prevented it. Now, you couldn't control the sobs that shook your body. It had seemed to pause Azriel for the moment, for he did not move or speak. He just let you cry. Your eyes burned from the tears and your tears burned the gashes on your face. Your heart weighed heavy in your body, hopelessness withered your soul. Your jaw clenched as you heaved. "This is some sick joke," You whispered to yourself. "Please just tell me if it's a joke, I'll forgive everyone I promise."

"This is no joke," Azriel spoke softly. Softly like one would speak to a lover. You wished that were the case. But instead, the water began to trickle over your face again.

***

It had been a few days since Azriel had returned to Velaris. Your silence troubled him greatly. He must've waterboarded you for at least five hours, only stopping when you had passed out from hyperventilation. Troubled, yet impressed. He had never known another target to last that long. They either cracked, confessed or passed out much earlier. Azriel chalked it up to your hard upbringing. You had only revealed bits and pieces, more being divulged the longer he knew you... if those stories were even the truth anymore. Though you were beginning to crack, that much was certain. It had been about three weeks since Azriel and Cassian had dragged you into those dungeons. His spies reported the actions they took in order to extract the information from you. Some of it would make even the toughest males cringe. As much as Azriel loathed you for what you had done, the descriptions of your torture and the results of which he had seen decorated on your body was a tough pill for him to swallow. Especially when it stretched on so long with no result. Was all the pain and suffering worth it when it yielded nothing? Whatever information you possessed must be worth such a fate.

A knock on Azriel's door pulled him from his depressing stream of thoughts. He called for his visitor to enter and lifted his head from the paper on his desk, it was not like he was really reading it anyway. Rhys walked through the door and sat on a chair in front of his Spymaster. It seemed funny for his High Lord to be before him rather than the other way around. "What is it, brother?" Azriel questioned. Rhysand had been disappointed when it was revealed that one of Azriel's more trusted spies had turned traitor, or been a traitor all along. Especially when it had gone unnoticed by the Shadowsinger himself, only to be unveiled by said Shadowsinger's second in command. Rhysand had held his tongue then, seeing how blindsided and angered Azriel had been. He wasn't completely sure, but Rhysand suspected it could have had something to do with some feelings developing between his brother and the traitor.

"How has it been coming along? Do we have any idea how much intel has been passed onto Beron?" Rhysand asked carefully. It was a silly question really, Azriel would've come to him straight away with that kind of information. He just wanted to check on his brother.

With a grimace, Azriel answered. "She has been a tough one to crack. Not even a sliver of information that I can make anything of."

"Perhaps it is time for a change of strategy?" Rhysand suggested.

Azriel's eyes met his brother's. He knew what he was suggesting, the power swirling throughout his High Lord's gaze could extract the truth in a matter of moments. But the idea sickened Azriel. Not only because he knew it turned Rhys' stomach to do so, but also because he wanted to avoid that end for you if at all possible. It confused the Illyrian really. On one hand, he wanted to rip you to shreds for betraying his trust. On the other, he wished he could go back in time and relive those peaceful moments of your friendship and his blooming feelings for you. Azriel clenched and unclenched his jaw. "That is our last resort, brother. I wish to try one more thing, if that does not work, then..."

Rhysand dipped his chin. "Of course, Az." He would probe Azriel later for his true thoughts. The shadows twirled around Azriel in a frenzy. They were typically a good indicator of when was a good time to talk to him.

***

You had been lowered to the ground, your ankles remained chained. Lying on the cold damp floor, tears dripped steadily down your cheeks. You did not sob and you tried to stop the flow, but it did not halt. Maybe you were going mad because the tears did not reflect the emptiness you felt eating a hole into your soul. It was horrifying yet comforting. You did not feel like the host of your own body, you felt like an outsider. Your assailants stabbed and whipped, you screamed and groaned. Yet you felt nothing on the inside. You did not beg or plead. You no longer protested when they forced food and water down your neck. You did nothing. There was nothing left in you. The lack of reaction had gained you no mercy. Large, deep gashes scored your arms. So lethal that the healer had advised that you be lowered, or else the wounds would stretch and you would bleed to death. Of course you could not die yet. The news must have made it to the boss because he stood before your cell for the second time since you arrived. You expected your heart to race, for fear to rattle your bones once again. Yet you remained still. Unbothered. They truly had broken you beyond repair. In walked Azriel. Your eyes followed each of his movements. His slithering companions remained by his side, as though they were on a leash.

"What have they done to you?" Azriel's voice was so soft as he hunched down before you. He reached out with an un-gloved hand to take your own. Red-stained bandaging covered two gaps where fingers had been. The gorsian shackles had been doing their job, along with the drops of faebane in your water. The healing was slow... but still healing. Was this what it was like for the humans?

You remained mute, still staring at your former friend. He met your eyes once again, not holding back his troubled face. If Azriel was being honest with himself, your silence was jarring. That look on your face was scary. You were slipping away before him, before the job was done. He replaced his grip on your mangled hand to wipe the tears from your cheek. You did not so much as flinch. Instead, your eyes closed. This was the only soft touch you had received in what felt like forever, and with your end drawing near you would enjoy it. Even if the one that would order your execution was providing you with that warmth. For a moment, you slipped into a reality stars away. A reality in which you were lying beside this male, his hand not wiping tears but caressing gently. A world where you could open your eyes and see Azriel's loving expression. Not this world.

"Let's try this a different way, sweetness." The nickname startled you. It had been a joke between you and him before all this. He had teased you for the amount of sugar in your tea. "Can you sit up for me?" Azriel spoke to you like he had before this nightmare began. You shook your head. It was only now that Azriel realised that your hands were clutching your stomach... no guarding it. He lifted the rag-like shirt that covered your top-half. Another inscription had been cut there. No, burned there. The spymaster's own hands twitched at the sight. For how depraved he was, he had never been depraved enough to enact this specific torture on anyone.

"It means snake," Your voice cracked. Raw from both disuse and screaming, Azriel was sure. "Alyia promised for every day I do not reveal my treachery, she will brand me with names through different means. You would be proud of her," You chuckled. The chuckle soon turned into a mixture of groans and coughs that spattered blood into your hand.

"I am not proud of this." It was the truth. As much as it was necessary at times, Azriel did not delight in torture. Much less yours. "Why are you keeping the information then? Surely you do not wish for this to continue."

Another laugh filled the room, the tears still streaming from you. The laugh turned to a cackle this time, loud and crazed. It lasted a few moments and all Azriel could do was watch. He had seen this many times before. The emotions of a tortured soul were not to be understood. He waited until your giggles died down. When they died, your arm wiped the tears. "You must think me stronger than I really am! I would've confessed long ago if I was a traitor. I've even thought of fabricating a confession so it would mean I would be put out of my misery but you would see through that and you'd keep me alive even longer." Your words struck a cord in Azriel. It was a strange thing for an old friend to wish for death at his hands, particularly when he knew your guilt to be fact. A fantastic actress you were, your performance was weighing greatly on Azriel's moral compass.

"How can you possibly think I will believe that?" He demanded incredulously. "I have seen the facts with my own eyes, through the work of someone I trust more than you."

That meant that Elijah, his second in command had either framed you or been fed false information so strong that it could not be refuted. "I don't think you will believe me," You replied dryly. "You have shown me that. So how about you tell me what you know."

Azriel rolled his eyes. He had trained you very well, your performance had tugged on even his heartstrings. "I know you are feeding intel about this court and my actions to Autumn," He growled and stood. He began to pace back and forth in front of you. "I was wondering why you kept requesting missions to the Autumn Court. I stupidly thought it was because you wished to help me with the unfolding business and please me. Because I believed you cared! That was my mistake. So now all that remains is to find out exactly what you have fed to Beron. So please, sweetness, tell me what you know and I will gladly put you out of your misery!"

Another humourless cackle erupted from you. "Let's be real, Azriel. You won't believe the truth even if it slapped you in the face. You have been tricked, but not by me. The truth will reveal itself one day, old friend. Whether it is in a few days or a few years, it will come out. Just know that when it does and I am dead, I will never forgive you. You have done wrong by me more than anyone else in my life."

With that, Azriel left your dungeon. This was his last attempt at extracting the truth. He had hoped that showing you kindness would give you enough hope that the truth would come out. He was wrong. So as he winnowed home, he mentally called for a meeting with Rhysand. Azriel's heart thumped painfully in his chest at your words. They resonated with him for some reason, the hard look in your eyes would be something he would never forget.

***

Elijah kept your hands bolted to each arm of the chair with two knives. They pierced all the way though your palm and at least a few inches into the wooden armrests. The pain that came with it was among some of the less severe you had become accustomed to. It was downright trivial compared the burning agony of the large screw being slowly twisted into your foot. Out of anyone, his punishments were the most painful. Elijah held a crazed look in his eye, a corner of his lips quirking while he inflicted his torment. It made sense to you now. For him, it was a sick delight. He enjoyed making you scream, making you beg for death. He wasn't trying to extract any information from you, he was merely toying with his spoils.

"You," A series of deep, laboured breaths ensued. "You're sick. I know what you've done."

The Cheshire-grin that slinked across Elijah's face was terrifying. "Oh how clever of you. Unfortunately for you, it is your word against my own. You are a pawn in a game that was created long before you let the Shadowsinger into your home for the first time. However, a happy coincidence it has been, girl. I could've never imagined the enjoyment I could get out of this. A dull affair turned an excess of excitement." You bowed your head. He was right. No one would believe you now, not that Azriel had revealed who had damned you. How convenient it would be for you to reveal Elijah's treachery so soon after your former boss had told you he was involved in your capture. Not to mention that whatever evidence the second in command had procured was enough to convince your boss and colleagues of your unwavering guilt. A terrible hybrid of a groan and scream ripped through your already raw throat as Elijah twisted the screw another full turn into your foot. It wouldn't be long now. Your end was in sight, Azriel's patience would not stretch much further. The only things you had left to fear was the method that would kill you and The Mother's grace to allow you back into her arms.

As if on cue, a group of footsteps echoed down the halls. You had come to recognise Azriel's. The other two you weren't sure of, but you assumed The General was in tow. The final pair were a mystery. Elijah spun on his heel, ready to greet his boss. In an instant, he was down on one knee, bowing so low he looked as though he could kiss the bloodstained ground. "High Lord, it is an honour." Your blood ran ice cold. Your head shot up and beheld the three Illyrians, each one just as petrifying as the other. Though, the High Lord's power blanketed the cell, seeping into every crack and corner. High Lord Rhysand stared right into your fear-filled eyes. There was whispers and rumours as to exactly what this male had done. He could turn your brain to mush and leave you living. He could rip your mind to shreds, give you the most agonising death with little effort. The horrors of his victims had never been far from your ears. The male's stare promised the same fate for you. It had you scrambling to ensure your own mental shields were intact, as though you could resist the might of the most powerful High Lord in history.

Rhysand called you by your full name, full of authority and reflecting the power that lurked behind his eyes. Raising your head, you looked anxiously at Azriel. You did everything to portray your fear and terror into that look. "Eyes on me." Rhysand bit. With a heart beating loud enough that everyone in the room could hear it, you met the eyes of your High Lord.

"My lord, please. This is a mistake," You begged one last time. One last chance at freedom. He would see the truth in your mind, but there would be nothing left of you to save.

"You have one final chance to reveal what you fed to Beron. Otherwise I will rip your mind apart until I find it myself," He promised viciously. You felt a razor-sharp claw make a long, uncomfortable pass over your mental shield.

You flickered your eyes to Elijah, who looked pale. This was it, your chance at justice. Even if you wouldn't be alive to witness it. Then you slid your gaze back to your old friend... your old love interest. Azriel scanned your body, holding on the knives in your hands and the screw in your foot. Cassian watched the exchange, though he had a harder time at hiding his expressions at the various horrors littering your body. "Remember what I told you," You spoke as you held the stare of Azriel. "I know nothing, High Lord. I have not fed any information to Beron or anyone from the Autumn Court."

Rhysand breathed a deep sigh when your eyes met once again. "Very well. May the Mother punish you justly for your sins." The feeling the followed was unlike anything you suffered before. You could not move, you could not scream. He was right there, in your mind. You could feel his essence cleaving your consciousness apart. Through each memory he watched, he destroyed it as he went. It felt like time had been slowed to a fraction of what it had been. The last few weeks of your torture felt inconsequential to these moments passing at a snail's pace. The blood that began to ooze from your nose, eyes and ears trickled slowly and took your mind with it. Everything you had ever been, would be and could've been was dribbling into a puddle in your lap.

You tried to push him out, tried to reinstate the shields and get him out. Give it up, his voice was a ripple of night. It was the voice of the High Lord, but also something more. Something demonic and beastly. It demanded you, and your mind conceded. The end was drawing near, you found yourself trying to remember your life and were met with nothingness. There was nothing left of you, only this pain and suffering. Why was this happening? You could not recall. Just let it end, you willed it. You repeated it like a mantra, begging whatever demon was inhabiting you to just kill you. The blood tickled your face as it now poured from you, but you could do nothing about it. Not as you heard ringing in your ears and your world fade to black.

Azriel watched in horror, having never witnessed this side of his brother's power in person. Dread weighed on him as your mouth hung open in silent horror, blood and drool pooling into your lap. Your fingers had curled and eyes clenched shut. Despite what you had done, Azriel would never wish this fate on his worst enemy. The image before him was something that even the most graphic horror novel could not depict. Azriel watched as the life drained from your body. Your hands relaxed first, then your expression relaxed and lastly, your upper body drooped and slumped over itself.. It was strange, you looked like you were sleeping peacefully despite the carnage you experienced. Rhysand's eyes focused once again and he quickly whipped around. Azriel jumped forward putting his hands on his brother's shoulders. "What's going on?" Cassian shouted.

"Where is he?!" Rhys bellowed, ripping from Azriel's grip.

"Who? Where's who?! Talk to me!" Azriel snapped.

"Elijah!" Both remaining brothers whirled around to where the spy was previously. An empty corner was all the remained.

Azriel's heckles raised, nothing was making sense. Cassian seemed to catch on partially. "Why do you want him?"

Rhysand looked solemnly at Azriel and Cassian. "It wasn't her, Elijah set her up."

Azriel froze, his heart pumped loudly in his ears. This couldn't be happening. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, his hands shook by his side. Carefully, he looked at where you were slumped in the chair. "No..." He barely whispered. Azriel's words seemed jumpstart Rhys and Cassian into action. Cassian ripped from the room, his feet stomping down the hall in pursuit of the real traitor.

Azriel approached you slowly, hoping there was some of you left to save. To save so he could repent. Tentatively and more gently than anyone had been with you in weeks, the Shadowsinger raised his fingers to your neck and waited. Waited for something, anything. "She's gone brother, I made sure of it," Rhysand stated, shame and regret thick in his tone. The Spymaster collapsed to his knees beside you, his mind replaying all the times you had begged for him to believe you. Replaying all the times his gut had told him there was something amiss. Sobs began to rack through his body, his heart had cleaved in two. In that moment, Azriel felt no better than his step brothers. An innocent female, an innocent and amazing female dead by torment he had ordered.

***

Azriel took charge of arranging your funeral himself. Guilt and shame had plagued him in the days since your death... no your murder. You laid on the pyre outside the home you had made for yourself. The Sidra rushed aggressively, as though it had been angered by your demise. The healers had cleaned your body as best they could, covered you with the finest silk Azriel could buy. But, he could still see the characters engraved on your skin. The holes in your hands where Elijah's knives had been were visible as they laid criss-crossed over your heart. Your cheekbones jut out in a sickly manner from your face. You looked clean, but nothing like the female Azriel had fallen in love with. He knew that now, that he had fallen in love with you. And he had destroyed you. A shell of the female you used to be laid dead on the pyre, all because of him. Azriel wished he could awake from this hell. Awake and see your face full and happy. Instead, he saw the eternal rest before him. Despite the peace on your face, all he could see was the image of your freshly dead body; mouth hung open with blood spilling from it, tears still trickling down your cheeks. With a flaming torch, Azriel set the pyre ablaze. He had attended this on his own, despite the protests of his family. He would attend this alone. Though Azriel was sure that the thought of him being the only attendee at the ceremony of your untimely demise would disgust you.

As your body burned, along with your most prized possessions, Azriel vowed to never forget what he had done to you, his friend and lost love. He would walk every day with the thought of you whispering in the back of his mind. For everyday he would remember what he did to you with the most crushing guilt, it would never account nor excuse the turmoil he put you through. Would never amount of the betrayal and injustice he unleashed unto you. Azriel Shadowsinger would never allow himself a moments peace again. Because you had never gotten yours. You had never even gotten so much of a chance at peace. Azriel knew it was a fitting punishment, he even smiled dryly at your burning body as he recalled your final words to him.

I will never forgive you. You have done wrong by me more than anyone else in my life.

I would appreciate any feedback that you have! Let me know what you think! :)

#acotar azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel angst #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #cassian acotar #rhys acotar #azriel x reader angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader

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piichuu · 14 hours

Text

♡ DODGING HIS KISSES

FEATURING: baji keisuke, chifuyu matsuno, takashi mitsuya, ken ryuguji, manjiro sano, shinichiro sano

WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader

NOTES: this is a very old draft that i’m posting while working on the june drabbles and mikey series <333

BAJI KEISUKE

anyone who saw baji keisuke would most likely not take him as an affectionate guy, it is a side he hides well and only keeps for your eyes to see. he can’t help but enjoy the little things. intertwining his fingers with yours whenever he wants to make sure that you know he’s there, putting an arm over your shoulder and kissing your cheek or just doing something as simple as kissing your lips.

never have you dodged his kisses before, but when you eventually turn your head so his lips misses yours and meet your cheek instead, his eyes widen. he has had a tough day being away from you while you’ve been away at school, so what did he do for you to suddenly not let him kiss you.

“what are you doing?” he stares at you blankly, getting a giggle out of you as his cheeks are suddenly squished together by your hands. “you have chocolate all over your lips, baji.”

he raises an eyebrow and quickly wipes a finger over his lips, just now realizing that the chocolate he ate an hour ago has been stuck to him since then. you’re still looking at him with a smile on your face and without having a second to react, he presses his lips to yours. “that won’t stop me, you should know better.”

CHIFUYU MATSUNO

your boyfriend would never in his life complain about getting to have you in his arms, having his arms wrapped around your waist while your head is resting in the crook of his neck. it is still early morning and none of you have any work or school to attend today, so sleeping in was an obvious choice.

the both of you awake around the same time, tired eyes gazing at one another with lazy smiles on your faces. “good morning, angel,” he mumbles, his voice just as hoarse as it always tends to be in the morning, no matter what time he wakes up.

his fingers thread through your hair while your face is still hidden by his skin. “good morning,” your voice is muffled which causes a raspy chuckle to escape his throat. he places a kiss to your temple before reaching his hand down to cup your cheek and make you look at him. “i hope you slept well, we could go back to sleep if you want.”

chifuyu leans in so his face is closer to yours, but just as his lips are only mere millimeters away from yours, you suddenly turn your head, this action causing his heart to stop. “w-what?” “hm?” you don’t seem to realize what you just did, most likely too tired to understand what he was trying to do. now realizing that it was unintentional is what makes him smile and stroke your cheek. “nothing, wanna go back to sleep?” a nod and those droopy eyes of yours only reassure him more that you wouldn’t purposely dodge his kisses without a reason. “alright, sleep tight baby.”

TAKASHI MITSUYA

there is nothing that takashi mitsuya loves more than to come home to you after a tiring day at work. all he can think about when fixing ripped shirts or making new ones is you, you will always be stuck to his mind no matter what he does.

tonight, the two of you are supposed to go out for dinner together as it will soon be your anniversary and due to your schedules, you won’t be able to do anything special when the date has come. mitsuya will be busy with work while you will have exams to study for, so both of you decided that it was better to have dinner a few days early.

when your boyfriend enters your home to quickly change into fancier clothes, he’s greeted by you who’s already standing in the hallway and waiting for him. you are already dressed up from top to toe, causing takashi mitsuya’s mouth to fall wide open. the two of you often only see each other in pajamas or the usual work clothes, so suddenly seeing you in such fancy clothes does something to his heart. not that he doesn’t always think that you’re the prettiest person alive.

you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a loose hug. “how was work?” you ask as he leans down to press his lips to yours, but right as he’s about to, you put your finger over his lips and smile softly. “lipstick, your lips will get all messed up and i’ll have to redo it,” mitsuya groans into your shoulder. “please? i’ll help you redo it.

he looks at you with pleading eyes as his gaze only continues to glide down towards your red lips. “if you get ready, you might get a kiss,” that’s all he needs to hear before he’s off towards the bedroom to change.

KEN RYUGUJI

the two of you are often together, almost as if you were stuck by the hip. if he’s hanging out with his friends, he will send you texts and tell you that he’ll be home soon. if you are away for school, you will snap a few pictures of what you are doing so he can follow you throughout the day. is this something he would ever admit to his friends though? he’ll no. you are the only one who will ever see this side of him.

so when coming home to you after a tiring day with his friends, all he wants is to hold you close and receive kisses from you. it’s what keeps him motivated throughout the day and stops him from sending you texts about how much he misses you.

ken ryuguji usually hates to show himself being vulnerable, but with you it all becomes different. you make him smile, you make him warm, so when he sees you laying on the couch, curled up under a blanket and watching a movie, draken can’t help but smile.

he walks over to you and kneels on the floor, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, but just as his lips are about to meet yours, you suddenly turn your head, dodging his kiss. he furrows his eyebrows at that, not understanding what caused you to do that just now. “what are you doing?” he asks as you look at him again, smiling softly. “i didn’t brush my teeth this morning, my breath probably stinks.”

hearing that causes draken to chuckle and he shakes his head. “i don’t care if your breath stinks, i want to kiss you,” straight forward, something he has only started to be further into your relationship. he would never admit such a thing a year ago when you’d only been together for a couple of months. but he doesn’t allow you to react as his hand rests on your cheek and he connects his lips with yours. “missed you.”

MANJIRO SANO

there is no way to doge manjiro sano’s kisses. if he has to chase you just to get one single kiss, he will. of course he wouldn’t ever force you to kiss him, but he knows when you’re dodging his kisses just to play with him.

so when you turn your head so his lips meet your cheek instead, his eyes widen and you look at him with a smile playing at your lips right before you sprint away from him and through the living room, towards the bedroom. giggles fill the apartment as mikey chases you around the rooms, causing you to stumble over furniture and almost trip.

it is when you eventually trip on your own feet and land comfortably on the couch that mikey takes his chance and wraps his arms around your waist so you can’t flee. the both of you giggle as he tickles your sides and pulls you close, leaning in to connect his lips with yours, still with smiles on both of your faces.

“you’re getting faster,” he pants, collapsing on top of you as he’s suddenly run out of energy after all that running. you smile softly, running a hand through his blonde hair as he relaxes into your touch, continuing to press a few kisses to your lips. “i love your kisses, will do anything to get them.”

SHINICHIRO SANO

his heart would break into a million pieces if you ever tried to dodge his kisses. his mind will fill with a hundred thoughts at the same time. what did he do wrong? are you mad at him? is he a bad kisser? are you going to break up with him? did he say something that hurt your feelings before he left for work?

the questions are many when you look away from him just as he leans in to kiss you. almost in an instant, his eyes begins to water. he finds it difficult to understand what he did wrong, you were smiling when he walked through the door, weren’t you? he thought you were happy to see him.

shinichiro looks down and doesn’t say a word while taking his jacket off and putting it on a hanger. he puts his shoes by yours and grabs his backpack to carry it into the bedroom. seeing him in such a down mood is what causes you to drop the act, cupping his face and looking right into his eyes. “i’m so sorry, shin. me and my friends wanted to try to dodge our boyfriend’s kisses to see how you would react, i’m so sorry.”

your thumb rubs against his cheek and he visibly relaxes at the explanation, letting out a sigh of relief. “i love your kisses, shin. i’m sorry for making you so sad,” you lean in to press your kiss to his for a short but sweet kiss. shinichiro puts a hand on your waist while the other one is still holding his backpack. “it was a little mean,” he mumbles.

he intertwines his fingers with yours and walks into the bedroom with you following behind. your boyfriend drops the backpack on the floor and puts his arms around your waist, pulling you onto the bed so he can cuddle up to you. “you’ll have to make it up to me with lots of kisses.” “of course, shin. you’ll get all the kisses you want.”

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artinvain · 2 days

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HII!!! ur fics r so amazing and i was wondering if you could expand on needy reader waking abby up in the middle of the night plsssss😅(when u have time ofcc!!!!)❤️❤️❤️

thank u love! and thank u for the req

very soft needy!reader x service top!abby. (men & minors dni - nsfw under the cut)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it is sunday morning, you can feel the weight of abby's arm around you, your back pressed flush against her chest. you can feel her soft breath at the back of your neck, followed by near silent snoring. the sun's winter rays are just barely shining in through your bedroom window and yet there's a heat rising up in your belly, an ache between your legs that you recognise as one that only abby can quell.

you whine as you shuffle back, your ass pressed to abby's crotch, hearing her hum contentedly her arm pulling you impossibly closer her hips unconsciously snapping softly against yours. you bite your lip at the feeling, you can feel your cunt sticky and sensitive as you twist your thighs together.

you huff, the pressure of your thighs not enough to satisfy you and pulling abby's lax hand down to cup your pussy softly as you whimper. you'd spoken of it before and abby said she's always more than happy to please you -- regardless of the time or the place.

so you only feel embarrassed when you grind against her hand because you've been so needy lately. abby shuffles closer, her hand lowering so her fingers are near your leaky hole, your hand over hers you press her fingers in between you lips, whimpering as you hump her hand, her palm rubbing your clit.

you're huffing and sighing into your pillow, gently biting abby's arm under your head as you guide two of her thick fingers into your cunt. and you groan her name when you feel abby's fingers curl inside you, sliding in to the hilt and you can hear her sigh behind you,

"good morning sweetheart," abby's gravelly voice causes you to clench around her fingers and she chuckles, going to kiss you neck, licking and marking it, kissing up to your earlobe. "that feel good baby? like using my fingers like this?" abby asks, moaning when she feels your gummy walls clamp down on her, pulling her in as she rubs your gspot. you nod your head, whimpering when abby starts to slide her fingers in and out of you, the sound of your wetness starting to fill the room, the smell of your wet pussy permeating the blankets.

"smell so good baby," abby groans, "can i eat you out after? please?" she groans, her hips bucking against you, her fingers digging deeper as you whine out gripping abby's wrist.

"yeah abs, please just -- fuck" your voice a whisper as she twists her fingers gently, "you're so wet," abby can slide another finger in so easily -- "opening up for me so nice baby, fuck you feel so good, always feel so good for me," she whimpers, her fingers rubbing and fucking into you a little faster, she's desperate to feel you cum around her, hear your moans reach a fever pitch and her chest swells with pride and pleasure as your mouth opens, huffing moans and

"god, abby that feels so f-fucking good," your humping against her hand again, her palm rubbing you clit as her fingers rub against your gspot and she can't help but wrap her hand under you chest, her fingers gingerly rubbing at your nipples and cooing softly into your ear --

"you're amazing honey, yes so perfect for me. just, fuck, just feel good for me yeah? that feel good?" abby kisses your temple as she rocks her hips against you, building a rhythm that has your skin dewy, her leg shifting between yours so she can move her wrist properly without your thighs clamping down around her.

"yes, abby, feels so - so shit- shit m'gonna cum," you groan, your hips faltering as abby's fingers twist and fuck into you, never stopping for a second and you grip onto any part of her body you can find, letting her holding you tight and hearing her whining as you start to leak around her, your body tightening and shaking as you cum.

abby lets you catch your breath and then gently pulls her fingers from you to suck on them, moaning -- her eyes rolling back in her head. she's about ready to cum in her underwear.

"please let me eat you out honey," abby moans and she kisses down your body when you nod your head. she's moaning as she mouths you through your panties, sucking your wetness from them and then removing them so she can taste and feel the softness of your cunt against her tongue. finally, finally when she latches her mouth to your clit, her hips rutting against the bed desperately, she cums.

tag list: @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz @abbysprettygiiirl

#lesbian #abby tlou smut #lesbian smut #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #nsft lesbian #abby tlou x reader smut #abby x reader smut #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderston smut #abby tllou smut #men and minors dni #minors dni #i do not support tlou and their zionist agenda #i just find abby anderson v sexy #reqs open #taglist open #ask answered #req filled

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seeingivy · 3 days

Text

see you soon

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

songs mentioned: birds of a feather by billie eilish, see you soon by beabadoobee (small mention + name of chapter), and this love by taylor swift

previous part linked here

Eren’s embarrassed when he wakes up the next morning.

Not immediately. Because when his eyes finally flicker open from the sunlight streaming in from the windows, the only thing that he feels is an overwhelming headache and a dry patch in his throat. His head spins slightly when he sits up, eyes puffy underneath his fingertips, and he regrets ever taking advice from two borderline alcoholics just because it was their wedding.

But when he’s finally able to somewhat endure that pulsating feeling in his head and fully flicker his eyes open, he looks to his left to find you still in his bed.

It wasn’t a dream.

He was almost half convinced that it was – that you weren’t actually whispering into his skin that you loved him still, borderline begging him like he once did to you in the dark of night.

He was wrong.

He leans forward, tucking the stray strands of hair out of your face, only to find that you’re still fast asleep, your breaths deep and labored. Eren can’t help but smile as he brushes the back of his hand against the softness of your cheek – knowing you’d be irritated that you fell asleep with your makeup on when you woke up and borderline homicidal from your hangover.

It’s only when Eren moves slightly to the right that he catches sight of your neck, and the little purple mark he accidentally left last night, that the regret, the deep searing embarrassment, seeps in.

Because all he gets are flashes of the night prior – of his lips on your neck, of how badly he wanted the begging to be true, of the warmth that was pooling in his stomach when he passed out next to you.

He got too carried away. Maybe you had too.

There were a hundred possible reasons that could explain what you said – that the sweetness of the wedding had gotten to you, that you too were plagued by the eerie deja vu, or really, that the sinking feeling that things were ending and you’d never see each other again was starting to feel too permanent, that you wanted to pretend.

Eren pauses.

That’s what it had to be.

It was for posterity. That things were ending and…and that simply had to be the last time that you kissed. Not an awkward half kiss with Levi and Hange watching, one that would be displayed to nearly thousands of people in a few months.

You had already given the people enough. One that had to be just yours, after everything else you had given.

Eren can feel the regret digging into his gut as he lightly pushes his hand out of your grasp and decks downstairs.

There’s an urgency to it. The need to repeat what you said to Eren, exactly the way you said it last night.

Because it was one thing if he didn't love you and was trying to spare your feelings. And it was another if he really didn’t remember – and the possibility that he really did love you back was still intact – that it was just lost on deaf ears.

You were positive that he did. That it had to be the latter and not the former – because Mikasa and Jean wouldn’t push you, Connie wouldn’t give Eren more hurt than he could handle, and Levi wouldn't be talking you into it if it wasn’t something that was good for you.

You just had to muster the courage to do it again.

You slip your hand into Eren’s at your side, ignoring as everyone starts crowding around Levi and waiting for instructions, and lightly pull at his hand. You look up and watch as he processes the sensation, almost wholly confused by it as he looks down at you.

You wonder if he even realized when you put your hand in his.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you whisper.

He slips his hand out of yours immediately.

“What?”

His eyes are nearly boggling out of his skull and you cringe. Maybe you shouldn’t confess your love while he’s still hungover.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make it like a thing. I just wanted to chat, whenever you have a second.”

Eren frowns.

You don’t know what it means. You don’t know what any of it means – that you leaned forward and he let you kiss him, that Levi had tried to convince you to do this, and that for the first time, you’re actually not sure if you’re doing the right thing.

“Eren. Y/N, could you pay attention?” Levi asks.

You whip your head to the side to find the group of them all looking at you, as you awkwardly pull your hand out of Eren’s and give Levi a nod. You can feel your hand shaking at your side as you shove it into the warmth of your underarms, giving Levi and Hange the indication that you’re paying attention.

“Earth to Eren. Are you with us?” Hange asks, head hanging forward as they wait for a response.

You turn your head back to him to find that he’s still staring at you and you swallow hard. You raise your eyebrows at him, which is enough to restore some semblance of bearings to him, as he shakes his head, almost like he’s disoriented, and turns to Levi.

“Sorry. Ye-yes.” Eren responds, though you barely believe him.

“Okay, well. If you guys do this well enough, this is the last scene we’ll film.” Levi states.

There’s a quiet murmur that goes around the room, as you watch everyone give each other almost excited glances, and note that Levi fights every muscle in his face to not smile. There’s an almost unsettling, but electric finality in Levi’s words – and really, in knowing the fact, that it’s likely you’ll all get the scene done in one take and then be done with it.

And that for the majority of them, they’ll walk away and never return again. You wonder if Eren will walk out of here with you, like you were so sure he was going to a few hours ago.

You turn your head to the side, to Mikasa who offers you a halfhearted smile. You return it.

“Let’s walk over together then.” Levi states.

The smallest glimmer of hope that was flaring so brightly in your chest dims the slightest bit, but it’s stubborn. At the very least – you’d get your point across. That Eren had his doubts, rightfully so, but you were going to make your point abundantly clear.

That you won’t let this love die out a second time.

Mikasa wraps her arm around your wrist, and Connie wraps his arm around Eren’s shoulder, as the group of you all drag your feet to set for the last time.

Eren gets to direct the last scene.

It’s Levi and Hange’s wrap gift to Eren. They had given him full reign to write so much of the last season and to them, it was only fair that one of the best things he had written, one of the perfect ends to the season, would get to fully play out the way that he had imagined it.

And that he’d get to sign his name on with theirs at the end of it.

From your vantage point, with his little fake head secured in your hands, you can tell that he’s excited. He’s animatedly pointing everything out to the crew, adjusting the lights and the positions as you all wait for your marks, teeming with your own nervousness.

You love him. You want to scream it from the rooftop.

“You’re looking awfully happy.”

You look to your right to find Jean, Mikasa, and Connie at your sides, each of them looping in an arm in with you, as you all direct your gaze back to Eren.

It’s almost hard to process what it is that Connie just said, or really even feel it. All you can really produce is a heavy sigh, one that they all recognize too well, as you lean your head against Mikasa’s.

“Did you guys kiss last night?” Mikasa asks.

“Yeah.” you respond.

“What? You did what?” Connie asks, easily broken from the bittersweetness of the moment – which is replaced with his excitement.

“We kissed.” you repeat again.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, you fuckers actually did it!” Connie states.

“I mean, we didn’t actually –”

“Not you two, dumbass. Jean and Mikasa. I told them their stupid getting you drunk plan wasn’t going to work. And I was fucking wrong.” Connie states.

You turn to the two of them, who give you sly grins, as you elbow Jean in the side.

“Well, it didn’t actually work. I started confessing to him and he didn’t believe me because I was drunk. If anything, you made that more embarrassing for me than it needed to be.”

“Wait, you’re not happy then? He didn’t say it back?” Mikasa asks.

“No. I mean, not really. He just kept saying that I didn’t mean it. I don’t think he realized that I was being honest.”

Connie pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I told you two. It was him that we should have been focusing on, not her. You know how he is.” Connie whispers irritatedly.

“Excuse you. She’s way worse than him. She definitely needed more coaxing than he did.” Mikasa responds back.

“Well, look at where we are now. Poor idiot is so hopeless that she said exactly what he wanted and he didn’t even fucking believe it.” Connie states.

“I’m going to talk to him.” Jean states, making a move to walk towards him.

You reach forward, wrapping your fingers around Jean’s bicep, and pulling back. He looks down at you, an almost seamless blend of irritation and frustration spreading across his face, that you can’t help but smile at.

“Don’t tell me you have cold feet now.” Jean grumbles.

“No. I really appreciate it, from all of you guys, but…”

You turn your head to look back at him, only to find him already looking at you. You shoot him a smile – one that he doesn’t really fully return – before you turn back to the three of them.

“I don’t need your help anymore. I think I’ve got it from here.” you state.

The three of them give you weary eyes before Jean leans forward, eyebrows raised as he questions you.

“You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“No. I just know what I want.” you respond.

You shove him off, earning you from Connie, and proud smiles from Jean and Mikasa, who move to take their cues again. And each of you quietly stand on your little marks, the tape so worn into the ground from the years and years of walking over the hard floors, that it’s basically disintegrated into the wood.

Your response to Jean echoes in your head. That you’re not not drunk, that you just know what you have to do.

You can’t help but note it all as you stand there, how final it all is, with Eren and otherwise. That the light on the right is still kind of broken from the time it fell during season two, that your names are still scribbled into the wall all the way at the right, and that it’s your second to last time standing there.

Your final with everyone else being here.

“On your cue, Y/N.” Eren states, giving you a firm nod, as he focuses his eye on the viewfinder.

You take a deep breath and try to stop the shake in your voice, and clutch the softness of the little pillow in your arms harder. But before you can start, you can’t help but turn back, the subsequent tears collecting in your eyes, more bittersweet than they need to be for the scene.

“You good?” Levi asks.

You feel your chest pang as everyone looks up at you, concentration broken from their focusing, as they all offer you a smile.

“Yeah.” you whisper.

You turn back to your cue, noting the disintegrating tape again, as you take a deep breath.

“Armin.” you whisper.

He turns his head and runs over to you, the screams coming out of his throat so agonizingly painful, that it nearly makes you flinch when he comes over. And it takes a few seconds – for you to sensitize yourself to the screaming – for you to really look at Armin, who's now crouching on the ground with you.

You have to swallow down the tears. That this is Armin, twenty-five years old, self assured and confident Armin, and not the awkward little kid you met ten years ago. That he’s stumbled, fell, but made amends, and that really – his future's so bright that you swear you might be blinded by it.

“You remember now too, don’t you? When Eren came to visit us?”

You wonder if any semblance of Armin’s tears are real – if he really is sad to let this go, if any of them will hold onto this and them as hard as you’re going to. If it’s so agonizing to him to walk away from here and to leave this part of him behind.

“Yeah. I heard…the result of your choice would make the power of the Titans vanish from the world.” Armin pants.

You turn your heads, as you watch Eren pan the camera to the left, where all of them are waiting. Armin slips his hand in yours as he Eren moves the camera away from you, his tears making no inclination of ceasing.

Jean’s voice nearly makes you flinch. All you can think of is Jean crying at Marco’s funeral – that was always tried to act so cool and tough but that there were still the smallest, deepest, sensitive parts of him that seemed to shine through in odd moments. That he had spent a whole year in the hole with Mikasa, just to crawl out of it on top, that he’d get to leave here by her side.

“I remember now. You fucking moron.” Jean murmurs.

And each consequent voice that you hear, that belongs to people that have been so intertwined in your life – so deeply woven into the fabric of everything you’ve known, everything you’ve ever dreamed of since you were fifteen – makes the burning in your eyes consequently get worse.

“Eren…you’re really a…” Reiner starts.

“Eren told me that my mom would go back to being a human being.” Connie states.

That’s not a line from the script. Not the exact one anyways. But you know Connie well enough to know what he’s really referring to – the second chance at life that he got to give himself when he chose to get sober. And really, the second life that he probably gave his mom too.

Annie’s line is the one that gets you.

“He told us to live long…but what about you? We never asked for you to do this. You suicidal blockhead.” she murmurs.

But really, that’s what it is at the core of it. That after you left here, you would all live long – but each of you would be moving in different directions. That some of them would stop dead in the center of the race like Marco or run too far in the wrong direction like Historia.

That you’d start off in pairs but have to finish the race alone, that some of you would drag along in the middle and never really make it to the end.

That no matter how the race ended, it wouldn’t be all together.

There was always that consolation every other time you said goodbye. And weirdly enough, it reminded you of that almost blissful feeling you would have when elementary school would end as a kid. That you’d get to spend time away – but the promise of returning would always be there.

It was almost like practice. To rob yourselves of each other’s company whenever you took a break, but never really, because you did always get to come back.

You can’t help but cry when it’s Falco’s turn.

“Gabi!”

And maybe even worse when it’s Levi’s.

“Did you see that? Seems like this is it. What you dedicated your hearts for.” Levi whispers.

You wonder if Marco’s watching. If he’s seeing every corner that Eren’s panning too – Gabi knocking Falco down from being so excited to hug him, Annie and her dad in one corner, Reiner and his mom in the next. Of you and Armin in the last frame.

You have to swallow down the block in your throat.

“If I stayed here, they wouldn’t give Eren a proper burial.”

Armin sighs.

“Let him rest somewhere quiet.” Armin states.

If you got to have it your way, that’s what you and Eren would get to have. That you’d get to rest somewhere quiet, together. It’s a plagiarized thought – one that you stole from Eren, that he wrote first.

But it was almost too perfect. The thought of you and Eren leaving here, taking a few months off in his sweet little cabin in Ireland, where no one could touch you. He’d lie in the grass, you’d watch the moon, and skinny dip in the ocean whenever you wanted.

“Eren always took a nap near that three.” you state.

Armin smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it’s a good place.”

And you count them – seven steps until you're out of frame – clutching onto the little pillow that’s meant to be Eren’s head in your hands, as you switch on your heel when you’re done. And all fifteen of you turn your heads, eyes expectant as you look at Eren, whose own green eyes are glimmering with tears as he says it.

“I think that’s a wrap guys.” Eren states.

And there’s fifteen pairs of legs dragging to the center, until you’re a terrible mess of tangled arms, and snot filled tears. It’s Connie’s giggly voice and Gabi’s complaining that fills the air – and it’s such a sweet ache that it’s almost painful.

And really – each memory, so arbitrary, so formative – seems to come bubbling to the surface as you stand there, with Reiner’s elbow dangerously close to your eye and the faint smell of Jean’s cologne in your nose.

Levi clears his throat.

“Can I say one thing?”

You all pull out of the hug, limbs still intertwined in every which way, as you look at him. He clears his throat a second time – which should have been the first sign that you wouldn’t be able to stomach what it was that he was going to say if he could barely get it out in the first place.

“There aren’t any words that I can give you that can really put justice to what it is I feel, for each and every single one of you.” Levi starts.

You preemptively wince. It already hurts.

“There is something deeply rewarding about this career and it is most definitely the part that people don’t expect. It’s never been a thing that I really understood, because really, there are so many parts of it that are…are so antithetical to who I am as a person.” Levi states.

He turns to Hange, extending an open arm, before continuing.

“I’m deeply fond of my privacy. I would hate for anyone to know about my love life, let alone speculate on it. And I truly hate a system that, down to its core, is destined to knock people down, to profit on the torturous part of creating art. I never understood why this was something that people dreamed of, why little girls would decide their entire career after watching someone give an impassioned speech on a television screen.”

The group of them all turn to you, teary eyed smiles, as they all offer a quiet laugh.

“I got a taste of it. I acted in my first real movie, La La Land, and fell deeply and inexplicably in love. Not only with the love of my life –”

He offers Hange a wink.

“But, with the world of acting itself. To pretend to be a jazz artist in Los Angeles, a secret spy in the United Kingdom, to live through the highs and lows of life – time and time again. Sometimes I almost found myself getting obsessed with it – letting everything else go, to be someone else. To live a hundred lifetimes in the short one I’ve been given and that really, I’d still get the chance to go miles and miles further, to live a hundred more.”

Levi pauses.

“This is the second time that I’ve found myself having a life I’m finding hard to let go of.”

He turns back to Hange.

“The important parts followed me where I wanted to go the last time…”

And he turns back to you, sparkling tears falling out of his gray eyes, as you swallow a whimper.

“But I know they won’t this time. And god, have you all given me the biggest headache of my fucking life. You’ve all run a hundred directions and…and I’ve chased you all down to each one of them.”

You all laugh.

“I’ve never seen a group of people who are so motivated to have difficulties with one another. Like genuinely, every time I’d come out on top of something, someone else decided to have an issue. One person gets engaged and suddenly I’m hearing you’re begging outside his door everyday for him to take you back. Or you’re breaking each other’s cameras and blocking each other's numbers.”

You turn to Eren, who offers you a joking wink.

“But…I’ve never seen a group of people who are more passionate. Never had people that I wanted to follow to every corner, that I felt so moved to do right by. And I could never be more thankful to have people who were willing to walk with me and my vision, to truly and really, give meaning to the idea of dedicating your hearts.”

Falco presses his cheek to your shoulder.

“Thank you, kids. I know that I’ve made the right choices in picking each of you and I’d do it all again with you in a heartbeat, chasing and all.” Levi finishes.

No one’s able to muster an appropriate response in words. But Eren gives Levi his wrap gift – which seems to be just right. It’s a single page, an arbitrary page ripped out of one of the old scripts.

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s from Marco’s script.” Eren states.

You all peer over Levi’s shoulder, noting the scene and getting an eerie sense of deja vu – of the first time that you were caught off guard with Marco’s death scene.

[Marco]: We haven’t even had a chance to talk this through yet.

And underneath, his inscription on the page.

levi, if this was your idea, i want you dead. you can’t just kill me off!

(just kidding! i know you love me so much that you’ll bring me back somehow :D)

Of course, Levi somehow made it harder than it had to be, again. He had made it a rule at the end of filming each season – that you weren’t allowed to give each other real wrap gifts, because you were always going to be coming back.

It was a strange tradition that occurred after. Since you weren’t allowed to give each other real wrap gifts, it led to everyone getting gag gifts for each other – something that was obviously started by Reiner and Connie – and wholly responsible for the stack of knick knacks that were stuffed in the back of your closet upstairs.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, only to find Eren at your side.

“Your turn.”

You feign shock, pressing your hands on your heart.

“You got a gift for me?”

“Shut up. I technically have two gifts for you, but I can’t give you the second one until later.”

You watch as Eren digs his hands into the folds of his shirt, before pulling out the key necklace that he’s been wearing all of these years. And subsequently watch as he yanks it over his neck and gestures for you to come closer.

“The key necklace?” you ask.

“I believe this is technically stealing a prop, but you know, what they know don’t know won’t hurt them.”

You frown as he places it over your head, yanking your hair out of the chain and readjusting it at the center of your chest.

“Why do you look so annoyed?”

“Well, now my gift looks unoriginal.”

You reach for the bag on the counter, before handing it over to Eren. And you watch the smile spread across his face as he pulls the red scarf out of the tissue paper, and presses it close to his chest.

“The scarf?”

“Yeah. I had the costume designers add our initials on the inner side, because you know, I actually got permission to give you that as a gift.”

You watch as he finds the stitching on the scarf, running his fingers over the black thread, before setting it down and opening his arms up for you.

“You know, you’ve always been such a goody two shoes. You’re supposed to steal this stuff from set and then make it a funny story for the press later."

“But of course. I’m so glad you’re still so humble to be giving me pointers about how this all works years later.”

“One of the things I pride myself on is how grounded I’ve stayed throughout the entire process,” he responds.

You both laugh, as Gabi and Falco come up to your side, excited smiles on their faces. You both give each other a confused look, before looking down at the two of them.

“Hi guys.”

“Hi Eren. Hi Y/N. We have a gift for the two of you.”

The two of them hand you a little package wrapped in white paper.

“The one on top is for Eren. And the second one is yours Y/N.”

The first thing that falls out of the package, that’s meant for Eren, is the magazine cover that Scott had actually mailed you a few weeks prior. And the second is one that you’ve entirely forgotten about, from an interview that you had done with Danny and Sareen.

“Well, you’ve always been shit at giving gifts Falco, but this kind of takes the cake.” you mutter.

“That’s obviously not the gift, dumbass!”

Gabi shoves him in the side.

“The magazine actually reached out to the two of us about doing a similar cover with our inspirations and an interview based on that. And for both of us, that’s always been the two of you. Not only because this is literally your show, but you’ve always been that for both of us. And they agreed to let us include Hange and Levi too, so it could be a whole Generations of Attack on Titan type of thing.”

You smile.

“I know you can’t take back all the shitty interviews and stuff you’ve said. But at least whenever someone looks up Vogue USA, it’ll be us that comes up next to you instead of them. I figured that was at least a little bit better, you know?” Gabi says.

You and Eren turn to each other, eyes nearly glistening, as Eren crouches to his knees to get on Gabi’s level.

“You’re one of the best people I know, you know that?”

“Eren. Don’t get all corny on me!”

“You started it! But really, you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. Both of you do and I’m immensely proud of you.”

You crouch on the ground with the two of them, Falco joining suit next to you, as you wrap your arm around him.

“You’re both going to make one promise to us, okay?” Eren asks.

“What’s that?”

“You’re always going to be on the same side. No matter how popular either of you get or what anyone tries to tell you, I can promise you – you’ll be much better together than you are apart. And I don’t want you to forget that.”

You watch as Falco and Gabi look at each other, self assured smiles on their faces, as they turn back to you, bright eyes.

“Deal.”

“That’s a promise.” Falco repeats.

The two of them wrap their arms around you one more time, before pulling back.

“Gabi, stay back, okay? I have a gift for you.” you state.

You watch as Gabi’s cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, as she tucks the stray flyways around her ears.

“Oh! You got a gift for me? You didn’t really have to.”

You shake your head.

“Are you crazy? Of course I did. And even if I didn’t have to, I really wanted to.”

You reach for the little box, before handing it to her to open.

“One of the first birthday gifts that everyone got me here was a little leatherbound notebook to write my lyrics in. Ever since then, I’ve only ever written in that – or other ones like it once I ran out of space. But it’s a good space to scribble out ideas, or even just fragments of words. Sometimes I find myself going back to phrases that end up being really big for songs later. And if you’re going to be a serious songwriter, I figured you’d need one of your own. And I’d be honored to give you the first one.”

You watch as Gabi squints her eyes at you, trying to blink the wetness out of her eyes.

“Really?”

“Mark my words, you’re going to be the one to watch. And I’ll be right there at your side, whenever you need something.”

You watch as she looks down at the book, running her fingers down on the softness of the leather, before she picks up the pen.

“The pen?”

You smile.

“I hear you’re a big fan of this song I wrote called like…New Year’s Day or something like that. Well, that’s actually the pen that I wrote it with…and most of my songs actually. I wanted you to have it.”

“I can’t take that from you.” she responds, pushing it back into your hands.

You shake your head.

“You most definitely can and will. I know you’ll make good use of it. And well, I think there’s a right time to give things up and pass them on.” you respond.

You watch as she smiles bigger, clutching it close to her heart before she reaches forward and gives you an almost too energetic and excited hug. And you watch as she runs approximately four feet away to where Falco is standing, as she excitedly shows off the gift.

Falco turns over to you and gives you a sly wink – wholly satisfied with the fact that he had a hand in giving her the perfect gift.

You make your way over to the center of the room, where Niccolo’s waiting, as you knock on the table top. He gives you a smile as everyone turns their heads over to you, each of them nursing gifts in their hands.

“I have something for all of you, if I could just have your attention for a second.”

Niccolo’s at your side, handing you the acoustic guitar, which is enough to get all of their attention as they all scoot closer and take a seat on the couch or the floor.

“I figured that it was only fair that you guys got to be the first to hear this news.”

You give Niccolo a nod, as he fixes the right picture onto the projector. It’s a picture of two polaroids side by side – the one on the left being the first group picture that you took on the first day of filming season one and the one on the right being the first picture from the start of season four.

And at the bottom, your handwriting in black marker – the letters spelling out Birds of a Feather.

“I’m so excited to share with you guys that my fifth studio album, one that’s entirely mine, is going to be coming out on June 11th.”

“No fucking way. You…you’re coming back for real?” Reiner asks.

You give him a nod and watch as all of their faces spread wide in shock, before you’re met with a sound of the sweetest cheers. And they all start whispering to each other excitedly, pointing out their faces on the cover, as you all gesture for them to be quiet with your hands.

“I wasn’t done. That would be such a lame thing to announce right now.”

“What do you mean? I’m about to go crazy about this on Twitter.” Connie responds.

You roll your eyes.

“The reason that I wanted to tell you guys is because I wanted to show you guys the tracklist.”

You give Niccolo a nod, as he switches it to the next slide, and watch as they all read it.

“Wait. These are…these are our songs. That you wrote with us.” Sasha states.

“That’s right! Birds of a Feather is the last song on the album because it’s the first one that I was able to write by myself. But every single one that comes before it is one of our songs, so I figured that it was only fair that you all got writing credits for them. I wouldn’t have been able to write that one if you hadn’t gotten me to write the ones that came before.”

Connie stands up from his seat. “You’re giving us all writing credits?”

You give him a nod.

“Oh my fucking god. I’m about to be an Institute Award winning writer.” Connie says.

You snort as they all laugh, before walking up closer to read the set list, each of them pointing out their respective songs. You look over your shoulder at Niccolo, your new tried and trusted producer for the foreseeable future, and blow him a kiss.

“The eleventh song is blank.” Reiner states.

“Right. I haven’t written that one yet. It’s for Eren’s request, I just haven’t had a chance to get to it yet.”

You watch as Jean shoves Connie in the side, before leaning closer to you.

“Calling it now. Some variation of the word love or lover is going to be in the title.” Jean states.

Connie snickers as you roll your eyes and gesture for them to return back to their seats and Niccolo hands you the guitar pick.

“Okay, well. This one is Birds of a Feather, guys.”

And I don't know what I'm cryin' for I don't think I could love you more It might not be long, but, baby, I Don't wanna say goodbye

Birds of a feather We should stick together, I know (till the day that I die) I said I'd never Think I wasn't better alone (till the light leaves my eyes) Can't change the weather Might not be forever (till the day I die) But if it's forever it's even better

You look to your left, your fingers slightly stinging from the metal of the guitar strings as you turn to Eren, Levi, and Hange and smile.

I knew you in another life You had that same look in your eyes I love you, don't act so surprised

The group of them all give you a set of cheers – Connie and Gabi pressing wet kisses to your cheeks and Mikasa ruffling your hair – as they all excitedly get closer to the screen and take pictures. It gives you a chance to find Historia alone on the couch, as you offer her a smile.

“Is it meant to be a big fuck you to me that you put everyone’s songs there but mine?” Historia asks.

You roll your eyes.

“The exact opposite actually. That song is my gift to you actually. It’s yours, entirely. It was a little bit too personal of me to share without your permission. And even if you give permission, I think you should be the one to share that with people and get full flowers for the masterpiece that you wrote.”

Historia smiles, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“I was about to write a whole song about how much of a bitch you were.” she jokes.

You snort.

“Don’t worry. I was already writing a counter response about how much I loved you.”

You watch as Historia wrinkles her nose before leaning forward and leaning her weight against you. Her grasp only seems to get tighter as you return the affection, soaking in the sweet vanilla smell for one of the last times in the foreseeable future.

The following morning happens too fast. Because Jean and Mikasa are finishing getting everything packed up and Niccolo and Sasha are eating breakfast, and in the blink of an eye, the three hours you had dwindled down to all of you standing on the porch, teary eyed.

And it’s really silent, quiet hugs and smiles, before the sets of cars arrive, that you all really turn to each other – and realize that you have to leave.

And you’re able to handle it considerably well, with Eren at your side, the two of you swallowing down that scratchy feeling in your throat as you say goodbye to Sasha, Niccolo, and Reiner. And it goes well for the most part, watching each of them duck their heads into their cars and give one last wave before they drive away.

That is until Connie, Jean, and Mikasa walk up to you, each of them with the biggest of smiles on their faces.

“Hey guys.” Mikasa says.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the tears that are rising up away, as you look at her.

“Hey.” you respond.

“That was the first thing you ever said to her.” Jean states.

You widen your eyes.

“Really?”

“No. I’m just fucking with you, I made that up.”

You shove him in the side, as the group of you laugh, before Connie pulls all of you closer, everyone linking their arms around each other's shoulders and making a little circle. And you all lean your heads against each other – unable to muster any semblance of words that can put meaning to any of the feelings – as you watch from afar.

Niccolo and Sasha leave together, but not before Sasha blows all of you one last kiss. Gabi and Falco are accompanied by a very annoyed Colt. Reiner’s last hug is to Hange and surprisingly, he’s the first one to break Levi.

“Our car is the last one there, the black.” Jean states.

You and Eren give each other a look, as you all unlock your arms from the circle and smile at each other.

“Enjoy your honeymoon, guys. And don’t give us a godchild too fast. I still haven’t gotten over my fear of children. Or pregnant women…” you state.

“You’re scared of pregnant women?” Jean asks.

“You didn’t know that? They like freak her out.” Eren states.

“They don’t freak me out. I just…can’t think about it for too long. So give me some time, Mikasa.”

The two of them shake their heads, almost like they’re annoyed by the thought, before they pull you in for their last hugs. And you can’t help but feel your heart sink as you watch the two of them walk away, at the last wave as they offer before they get tucked into their car.

Connie’s the last one standing.

“My car’s here too.” Connie states.

You and Eren turn to face him, getting the slightest shiver from the cold air, as you both turn to him.

“I’ll see you guys again?” Connie states.

You both smile, biting down on the hardness of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling too hard.

“Of course you will.”

“I’ll be the first to visit you guys wherever you end up after filming that last scene.”

You and Eren turn to each other and smile, before shaking your heads at him.

“Okay, Connie. We’ll get together.” Eren states.

Connie smiles, reaching forward to cup one of your cheeks and place his free hand on Eren’s shoulder, before he squeezes both of your skin.

“I’m glad. Now that I’ve given my last ditch effort at attempting matchmaking for the two of you, I’ll finally be able to tell you all about my girlfriend.”

“Your what?” you ask.

Connie gives you a wink.

“See you guys later.” he responds, walking off with his bag.

You and Eren turn to each other, eyes wide.

“He has a girlfriend?” you whisper.

“I didn’t know he has a fucking girlfriend. You know, you can’t just fucking say that and walk off into the fucking distance, Connie!” Eren shouts.

“Watch me!” Connie responds, tucking his head into the back of the car, before slamming the door shut.

Eren crosses his hands over his chest.

“What a fucking prick. That’s way dramatic, even for him.”

“I will admit, that’s so on brand for him that I can’t even be annoyed about it. “

“I’ll fucking say.”

You and Eren stand there on the pavement, socks cold on the gravel, with Levi and Hange standing a few feet away on the porch, as you watch the cars drive off and feel the silence hang in the air. And it’s only when Connie’s car disappears into the horizon that the thoughts return – the doubts of what you and Eren would actually have to confront now – as you turn over to him at your left.

“Hi.”

Eren smiles.

“Hey.”

“Ready to talk?”

Eren nods.

“I’m all yours.”

You and Eren trudge back to the front, where Levi and Hange are waiting, as you trail back in and lock the door behind you.

“Can you meet us at the table? We’re just going to grab the scripts and then talk about the next few days.” Hange asks.

“Yeah, sure.”

You and Eren walk down the hall, hands brushing against each other, as Eren turns to look at you. Hange and Levi return within the minute, each of them handing you a script with your names inked in bright green marker.

“I thought there wasn’t any dialogue for this. Like last time.” you state.

“We’re doing something a little different than last time.” Hange states.

“We’re going to film this that Hange and I wrote scene three days from now. And you’re not allowed to see each for those three days, until we film that scene.”

“What?” you ask.

“The scene is fairly simple, but…we need you guys to really nail it. But besides that, I want you guys to really get into the character work for it and really think about what it would be like to see each other after time apart, to be isolated like that alone.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine and all. But can we like delay the whole…not seeing each other thing for like an hour?” you ask.

Levi frowns.

“No. That’s like the entire point. It doesn’t exactly work if you get to talk before it happens.”

“Okay, I get that. But..” you start.

“No buts. You’re going to do this. It’s just three days. You guys have willingly gone without talking for longer than that.”

You glare at him.

“And you complained plenty about that. First you want us to talk to each other and then you’re physically stopping us from doing so?”

Hange gives you an apologetic smile as Levi stands up, shuffling off towards the end of the hallway, as Hange follows. You turn to Eren, heaving a deep sigh as you look at him.

“I guess I’ll see you in a few days?” Eren asks.

“Yeah. You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when they said that we were going to be here alone.”

Eren shrugs.

“Me neither. But that’s just kind of how it goes.” Eren responds.

“I’ll see you in three days, I guess.”

Eren smiles.

“It’ll pass by before you know it.” Eren offers.

Eren wondered if the time was passing as slowly as it was for you as it was for him.

The slow rotation of things that he had been using to fill the time on the first day – walking the length of the block, packing up the last of his things, and flipping through all of the books left in his room – were doing little to help him on the second day.

In all honesty, he was starting to get antsy. Too nervous for his own good.

And every little nervous thought that he had – about whatever it is that you had to say to him, the sheer embarrassment of letting himself go too far the night of the wedding, of never getting to feel the safe comfort of this house again – was culminating his headspace into a wasteland for good thoughts.

Eren wondered if it was possible to feel nostalgia for something if he was still in the depths of it. Or really, he knew for a fact that you could – but just wasn’t sure how it was exactly possible.

Because deep in the pit of his stomach, he was dreading the fact that in two days, the three of you were going to lock up this house and never return. That even if he got to return, it would never feel the same as it did before and whatever time he had spent here, it had already passed by him in front of his eyes and he hadn’t noticed until it was almost over.

It was a different sort of nostalgia, he supposed. Because it was one thing to be outside, playing with your friends for the last time and not realizing it was the last, but another to know that you were standing in the halls of all you had ever known and knowing in full that you were going to walk away from it and it was never going to be the same.

Eren reaches for the box closest to him, filled with the polaroids that he had picked to keep, and picks the first one out that he could find.

A picture of you and Armin at his sides, your cheeks resting on his shoulders in front of the brightly lit candles of his sixteenth birthday cakes.

It almost bothers him. That he can’t remember the exact moment the picture flashed – or really anything that happened after. But there’s the smallest amount of solace that Eren gets from looking at the pictures too.

Only because he knows that the person in the picture, who was so inexplicably happy, is still buried somewhere deep within him – and that at the very least, he’ll get to carry that person wherever he goes.

There’s a knock at the door, followed by a pair of footsteps that belong to Hange and Levi, who plop down at his side. Eren quickly tosses the picture back into the box, before offering the two of them a smile and hiking his knees closer to his chest.

“You okay?” Hange asks.

Eren smiles.

“Just feeling nostalgic.”

“Tell me about it.” Hange responds.

“How’s Y/N?” Eren asks.

Levi turns to face him and gives him an irritated glare.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“Yes, Levi. That’s obviously why I asked.”

“If you must know, she’s very irritated with me. She gave me some choice words when I had breakfast with her yesterday morning.”

“Yeah, well. She had something she wanted to talk to me about. We kind of –”

“You guys kissed while you were drunk at the wedding. Well, she technically initiated the kiss and the second and the third. And it was only because she got carried away after you didn’t believe her when she was trying to tell you that she loved you.” Hange finishes.

Eren turns his head to the side.

“What?”

“She told us.”

“Well, she told you wrong. She did try to…confess to me and begged me to kiss her, but I was the one who leaned forward. And the one who kissed her the second and the third time.” Eren clarifies.

Levi snorts.

“You remember?” Levi asks.

“Do you think that’s just something I can forget?” Eren asks.

“Well, my previous source seemed to think it was plausible.”

Eren frowns.

“She doesn’t remember.” Eren mumbles.

“Well, you did have a lot to drink.”

It suddenly makes sense to Eren – almost too much sense. The reason that you were so insistent about talking was because you weren’t sure that he reciprocated the feelings. Not because you were so bothered by what had happened that night.

“She really said that?” Eren asks.

If you were the tiniest shred of overthinking capacities like Eren did, which he knew for a fact that you did, he figured that you had already spun the story ten different ways in your head. That you were probably simmering over there, nervously itching to say what you had wanted – similar to the way that he had felt for weeks when you had actually returned.

“She thinks you don’t remember anything that happened that night. And because of it, she’s going to repeat exactly what it was that she said to you, again. Just to know the answer for sure”

Eren leans back against the frame of the bed, angling his head up towards the peeling wallpaper on the ceiling. Hange and Levi join him at his sides, the three of them watching hte fan spin around and cast shadows on the wall.

“Why are you telling me?” Eren asks.

“Do you believe in signs, Eren?” Hange asks.

“Hange.” Levi berates.

“Fuck off. Answer the question, Eren.”

Eren pauses.

“Sometimes. Why?”

Hange leans to the side, before handing him a book.

The Complete and Collected Poems of Maya Angelou.

Marco’s poetry book.

“You know, this was a gift to you guys. Why are you giving it back?”

“Open it to the marked page.”

Eren sits up, spreading his fingers over the top of the pages before he finds the dent and pulls open to the page.

Have enough courage to trust love one more time and almost one more time.

“Right. Are you about to give me a whole lecture about –”

“Look at who marked the page.”

Eren looks back at the bottom of the page, only to find his own writing staring back at him. And it’s only then that he remembers that this was a gift that Marco had given to him – at his last birthday party before the two of you broke up, when you passed out in his bed from how exhausted you were instead of blowing out the candles with him.

“Not that I believe in any of this shit, but…but we were cleaning up the room before we were going to come talk to you before going to bed. And it just fell on the floor, straight off the shelf, and opened to that exact page.”

Eren gets it now.

“Do you believe in signs, Eren?” Hange asks, again.

Eren slams the book shut. He wasn’t exactly the superstitious type, but he could trust in the things that he knew were tried and true.

And Marco did make a promise to haunt him from the grave. And he was never one to break a promise.

“Yes. I most definitely do believe in signs.” Eren answers.

“Levi. Did you…did you empty this out?”

“Why on Earth would I do that?”

You set the glass jar down, before dropping to the floor and running your hands over the tile to find the slip of paper – the request that Eren had placed in the jar months prior – now nowhere to be found.

“Why are you on the dirty floor?”

“My paper is missing. I-I didn’t take it out in the past few days, I think it might have gotten shuffled up with everyone moving and all that.”

“What was on it, kid?” Hange asks.

You lean back on your heels, wiping the dust from your fingers, as you feel your heart sink in your chest.

“Eren’s request for my song.”

“Oh! Just ask him to write it again.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just do that.”

Except that’s not good enough. Because if your hunch was correct, Eren wouldn’t write what he wrote the first time again – whatever it was that he scribbled onto the green slip of paper.

“Yeah. But ask him tomorrow, when you’re done filming.” Levi states.

You glare at Levi.

“No one is breaking your stupid rule, Levi. Relax.” you respond, as you make your way to leave the room.

“You’re not eating lunch?”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” you respond.

You drag your feet across the floor as the frustrated tears start to accumulate in your eyes – burning warm and hot as you make your way down into the hall and slam the door shut behind you. And you can’t help but lean down across the wood and watch as the tears fall onto your knees, the pounding in your head being a culmination of every horrible thought that’s danced across your viewfinder in the past few days.

Slowly but surely, any hope that you had on the first day had all but dwindled down into nothing on the third day. And the courage, the deep insistence that you had to talk to Eren face to face, has simmered down when the fears started getting louder.

Because, maybe, it was really for the better that Eren didn’t remember. And that maybe, this is exactly how you and Eren were supposed to end.

You walked in the wrong direction. And then he did too. And weirdly enough, the stars still aligned so you would both end up here, before you had to leave again.

And if you really count things in the grand scheme of things, there was nothing you could do but be grateful.

Well, really, if you wanted to stay optimistic – and keep your promise of leaving here different than the way you returned – you had to be optimistic.

You had to be determined to find the good, even if there wasn't any. You’d root it out of every nook and cranny – and even if you couldn’t find it, you were going to make it for yourself.

You reach for the box off of the desk, filled with the polaroids you have tacked on the wall, and reach for the on the top.

It felt like cheating – stealing a polaroid that you weren’t in – but you couldn’t help but take the picture of Sukuna and Eren standing together, trying to act cool by not smiling at the camera, and keep it for yourself.

You find solace in the fact that Eren’s loved. That Eren loved you and that you loved him – and that a part of you always will.

Eren always seemed like there was more than he was putting off and really, every conversation that you had ever had with him since he was a kid had left you wanting more. Only because you could tell – that deep down – there was more than he was letting on, hundreds of things and memories that he was waiting to share with you.

It was really the best thing about him – knowing that you would never tire of being around him. Because he’d tell you something new, teach you a new set of chords on the piano, or tell you about memories of his that you weren’t privy to experiencing next to him.

You wonder if it’ll be different when you see him years down the line.

If he’ll grow his hair longer, if he’ll have hundreds of more memories that he wants to share with you, and if you’ll be able to walk the path back to where you started after time away.

You reach for your notebook, to the last free page in your lyric book and scribble three words at the top.

See You Soon

The nervousness leaves you the morning you film. It’s almost serene, the feeling having settled into your bones, as you sit in the chair – watching them blow the hair dryer through the ends of your hair for the last time.

“You’re just going to sit out there in the little meadow. Eren will meet you there when he’s ready and we’ll just kind of keep continuously rolling. You can do whatever you want or…or whatever feels right. We’ll cut when you film the scene.” Levi explains.

You nod.

“What if Eren never shows up? Are you going to roll for three hours?”

“Well, he’s getting ready in his trailer, so I don’t think it’ll be that long.”

You look over your shoulder at the trailer, before turning back to him.

“Okay, well. See you out there.” Levi responds, giving one last squeeze to your cheek.

You take a slow start to getting out there. Linger back to hug the hairdressers and makeup artists one last time, dawdle by the food cart and spend your sweet time eating the scones, before you make your way out to the meadow.

The little cabin that the crew had constructed was perfect. Complemented by the little flowers barely blooming nearby and the clouds whistling through the air – the smallest part of you ached that it was real and not just four ply walls with nothing inside them.

You take a seat on the bench just outside and hike your knees to your chest. You pull the sleeves of the pink cardigan over your palms, before nestling your nose into the softness of the scarf – perfumed the same way with a mix of the fresh detergent smell and the flowery perfume that the costume designers douse the clothes in.

You try to memorize everything exactly the way it is. The blades of grass dancing in the wind of the cold air, the sun peeking out through the patches of the clouds, and your heart racing in your chest.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, which you know belongs to Eren at your side.

You look to your left to see him sitting there, his hair freshly cut. It’s considerably shorter – the exact length it was when you met him.

“Eren.” you whisper.

It almost doesn’t feel like he’s standing there.

“Y/N.”

It’s a kind smile that he offers you, one that goes to the depths of his green eyes. You can’t bear to look at it, and instead, choose to focus on the smallest bloom of flowers out in the distance.

“Levi cut your hair again.” you mumble.

Eren shakes his head.

“My idea.” Eren responds.

You twist the laces of your shoes in your fingertips – the plastic a the end of the lace almost fraying from how overworn the shoes are – as you try to swallow the block in your throat and make polite conversation.

“Any reason why?”

“You like it better this way.” Eren states.

You feel your throat dry.

“What?”

“You love my hair short. You told me that on the night of the wedding.”

You pale. He remembers. He remembers every word of your drunk ramblings – including the fact that you mentioned that his hair looks the best to you when it’s short, because it’s the exact length it was when you fell in love with him.

Eren stands up, before turning back to you and extending his hand out.

“Are you ready to finish this?” Eren asks.

You take a deep breath, before putting your hand in his, and giving him a nod.

“I’m ready.” you respond.

The tears that come are warm and hot and they arise quickly in the few seconds that Eren takes to walk to his cue. Because what he had just said had just registered in your head.

He cut his hair short because you like it better that way.

Eren’s hand is warm on your shoulder, as he lightly shakes you.

“Y/N. Wake up.”

You open your eyes to find the tears blurring your vision, which you’re silently thankful for, as you try to look in his direction.

“You’ll catch a cold.” Eren murmurs.

The tone he uses – it’s the exact opposite of the gravelly tone that always catches you off guard, the one you hate for its harshness. Only because it felt wrong, because it was so antithetical to the Eren you knew.

You shake your head, trying to remember your lines from the scene.

“Eren? Huh? When did I fall asleep?”

“You must have been really exhausted.” Eren responds.

“I just felt like I had a really long dream.”

Eren turns around and smiles.

“Let’s just take it easy and do nothing for the rest of the day. I caught some huge fish so…Y/N…why are you crying?”

You reach up, wiping the wetness you were unable to blink away from your cheeks.

“I don’t know. I suddenly felt like I shouldn’t be here.”

Eren frowns, taking a deep breath, before he turns to you. You can make out that his hands are slightly shaking at his sides.

“I’m sure Armin has been desperate to find us. But I couldn’t plunge Historia into hell and commit into an endless cycle of killing and I couldn’t bring myself to bring genocide upon everyone else outside the island.”

Eren pauses, as he balls his hands into a fist at his side.

“Let’s just go…live out my remaining four years in peace and quiet. Just the two of us, with no other people.”

You recognize that tone too but this one almost makes you wince. Because it’s the quiet begging – that you heard once on the beach, years prior.

“You’re the one who said that, Y/N. It was your idea.” he whispers.

You stand up, looping your arms around his torso as you bury your head into the side of his neck and get a strong whiff of his cologne.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I said that. I know we promised to not talk about that.” you whisper.

You can feel Eren shaking underneath your touch as he brings his hands up.

“Can we make another promise? Once I’m dead, throw this scarf away. You’re going to live a long time after this.”

You pinch your eyes shut, in anticipation for the next line.

“Forget all about me. Please, Y/N.”

You swallow hard, before pulling back to look at him, and his deep green eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” you whisper.

Eren gives you a silent nod, before he leans forward, and slots his lips against yours. It’s the opposite of four nights ago and in no way fiery, burning, or searing your skin. It’s the exact opposite – warm, tender, and final.

Eren pulls back, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, before you hear Levi’s voice.

“Cut! That’s a series wrap on Attack on Titan.”

There’s a group of resounding cheers, as you and Eren pull back, and give each other a lingering smile. Eren raises his fingers to his lips, tracing the skin, before Hange’s absolute manhanding of him directs his attention away.

You toss and turn in the bed for three hours before you give up on sleeping all together.

It’s the only reason that you’re trudging back over to the set in the cold, the key pressed into the palm of your hand and the book tucked into the warmth of your arm.

You’d thought long and hard about all the lasts you were experiencing in the past few days – which is precisely why you were utterly shocked that you had forgotten about this one.

It was only in your tossing and turning that you realized you hadn’t even paid a last homage to the piano that you learned to play on – and the sudden thought of it had your legs moving before you even realized that you were marching over there in the dark of the night.

You take the key and jam it into the lock, wiggling the entire knob before the door clicks open, and you march into the unexpected brightness of the set. You’re taken aback by the golden lights still being left on, before you hear the tune of the piano being played in the back corner and follow your way to the sound.

You walk closer to find that it’s Eren playing.

He’s leaning over the piano, fingers lightly pressing the keys, as he hums along to the tune. You ball your hands into fists as you walk up next to him, clearing your throat, and take the seat next to him – slightly breaking his concentration from the humming.

“Do you mind if I join you?” you ask.

“Not at all. I was waiting for you to get here.” Eren states.

You give him a weary look, before placing your book on the stand right next to his, before placing your hands on the keys and trying to mimic the tune that he was playing.

“How did you know I was going to come?”

“I had a feeling. I’ve been seeing signs.”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to smile.

“And what did the signs tell you?”

“It’s not exactly that they told me something. It’s more like they were pushing me, if that makes sense.”

You nod.

“Pushing you where?”

“Only place I want to be. To you, of course.” Eren responds.

You take your hands off the keys and place them at your sides, before lifting your legs and criss crossing them on the piano bench. Eren seems to follow your cue, because he pulls his hands off the keys too, and slides over so his legs are on each side of the bench and he can face you properly.

“Can I tell you something?” Eren asks.

You can feel your heart racing. Like you’re imagining what’s happening.

“You know that feeling you get sometimes, that…that this might all be like a bad dream and you’ve just woken up from it?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Eren reaches forward, reaching for both of your wrists before interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Those few seconds that you really notice things…when…when you can see the love in the room.” Eren whispers.

You tilt your head to the side, confused. Eren shakes his head, filled with an almost infinite patience to make you understand, as he leans closer.

“I’ll give you an example. When I was a kid, I waited at a bus stop for my mom to pick me up. It was one of the rare times that she was late and I sat there and really thought about it. That she was my mother. That I only get to have one mother and she was always going to be mine – and that really I was grateful for it.”

You smile.

“I had another one. One of my last days of school, I met these two people who had apparently been waiting to meet me for a really long time, who wanted to pitch an idea to me. All of my teachers were telling me that it was really important so I made my best effort that morning – trying to do my hair nice despite the fact that I was filled with a nervous ball of anxiety – and made my way over to the room at the end of the class. I walked in and Hange and Levi were sitting in the chairs, leaning back and arguing about something. Every shred of nervousness I had left me the second I walked through the door and was replaced with the exact opposite when they introduced themselves to me.”

“I’m starting to get it.” you respond.

“The first time you slept next to me, I –” Eren’s voice cracks.

You pale. And Eren pauses, trying to shake the nervousness from his voice, as he looks back up at you, green eyes swimming in glistening tears.

“Eren?” you whisper.

“The first time you slept next to me, the moon glimmered across my ceiling through the window. There were five or six seconds where there was a pale light shining over you and me, together, and I could see that you have a mole on your left cheek and another one on the side of your neck. And it was the first time I thought that I wanted to be able to stop time just there – just right there – and live in that moment forever so I could memorize what you look like. My heart was aching and it was tender in my chest because I didn’t want to move forward.”

You bite down on your cheek, trying to stifle the tears.

“I’ve had hundreds of those moments with you. Tracing starlight on your skin, hearing you sing at the piano, every single fucking time you’ve blessed me by kissing me. Every single one I’ve had, that you’ve…”

Eren shakes his head, before the tears start properly falling from his eyes.

“Every single moment you’ve privileged me by giving has made me want to stop time and stay there, with you in it, forever.”

You swallow the hardness in your throat down.

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper.

“Because I want more of them. I want so many more of them.”

Eren looks down, his tears falling flat against the backs of your hands.

“I want to be selfish. You’re the love in the room. You’re my moon. You’re every fucking thing I can think of and you’ve in every single good thing that I see. You take all my love with you wherever you go and I’m tired of being apart from you. You….you’re the only fucking thing I’ve wanted since the first time I’ve ever met you and everything has conspired for you and I to be here right now – and for you to let me back in.”

“Eren.” you whisper.

“Please.”

Eren breaks a smile.

“Please, I don’t want to beg. I can if you want me too but, just –” he starts.

You smile back, recognizing the same words that he had repeated to you on the beach.

“But do you still belong to me?” Eren asks.

You offer him a smile, as he lifts your hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Please say yes.” he whispers.

“I was only ever going to be yours to begin with, Eren.”

You watch as Eren pinches his eyes together, like he’s almost in pain – as he recognizes what it means – before he leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ears. You give him a smile and he leans forward, almost hesitant as he closes the space between you two and smiles into the kiss.

It’s infinitely better than the last time that you and Eren kissed on this bench, for the first time, almost ten years ago.

Because it’s laced with all of the love that you’ve experienced with Eren – the warmth of the early love, the aching yearning in the middle, and the sweet return after all this time apart.

He still feels the same. He’s still your Eren.

Eren leans back, hands shaking and breathing hard as he leans against your forehead, his eyes pinched shut.

“I love you.” Eren whispers.

“You said that already.” you respond.

Eren leans back and glares. But all you can do is smile – before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of his cheek.

“I love you too.” you repeat.

You lean forward, pressing your ear against Eren’s beating heart as he wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you can’t help but burrow yourself deeper into his embrace – unable to stop the quiet tears from escaping your eyes and staining his shirt.

“Do you think Marco’s dancing in his grave wherever he is?” Eren asks.

You laugh.

“For sure.” you whisper.

Eren smiles, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

“You know, you’re kind of stupid.” Eren says.

“What?”

“How did you remember the other night wrong? If you kissed me first, how did you end up with the hickey?”

You bring your hand up to your neck, touching the skin.

“That’s a hickey?” you ask.

“What did you think it was?” Eren asks.

“I don’t know, I kind of remember hitting my head when we were drunk. I assumed it was another inebriation-related injury.”

Eren smiles, before leaning forward and pressing three kisses to your cheeks.

“No. That was me. Kissing you.”

You roll your eyes, as you lean forward and press your fingers into the dents of his dimples.

“Speaking of, I have something for you. Well, more like I stole something from you, but…you get the idea.” Eren states.

“What is it?”

Eren reaches into his pocket, only to procure a green slip of finger, and holds it right in front of your face. You snatch it out of his fingers – recognizing his scribbled writing on the top – before you shove him in the side.

“You took this? I thought it got lost in the mix of packing and everything.”

You open it up and read Eren’s handwriting, of the request he gave you months prior.

I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it.

“This is…”

“The stage directions from Season Two. When we were supposed to kiss, before it got cut out. I wrote it.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Your handwriting is still as shit as it was when you were twelve.”

Eren pauses, before snatching the slip back from you.

“I mean, I was the one who wrote it into the script. I was helping Hange and Levi with scenes long before we knew about it. And I wrote that about you.”

You smile, clutching the little slip close to your heart.

The same Eren – with hundreds of gestures that fall deaf to your ears, that are never for show, and just an act of love – letters to the Institute and stage directions filled with every part of him.

“And I wrote the song for it too, if you want to hear it.” Eren finishes.

You give him a nod, as you both slide your legs over the bench again, and Eren sits up and braces his fingers against the piano keys. You rest your head against his shoulder, smiling as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before his voice fills the air.

Clear blue water High tide came and brought you in And I could go on and on, on and on, and I will Skies grew darker Currents swept you out again And you were just gone and gone, gone and gone

In silent screams In wildest dreams I never dreamed of this

This love is good This love is bad This love is alive back from the dead, oh, oh, oh These hands had to let it go free, and This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh Ohh Oh, oh, oh

Your kiss, my cheek I watched you leave Your smile, my ghost I fell to my knees When you're young, you just run But you come back to what you need

Unbeknownst to you and Eren, you’re not the only ones who have trouble sleeping that night – and you’re not the only ones who figure that spending time on set would be a good use of the time. It’s why Hange and Levi decide to trek to the set in the middle of the night.

And when they make their way over to the set, they wriggle the door only to find that it’s already wide open and that the sound of the piano is filling the acoustics of the room. And to their sweet surprise, it’s because it's you and Eren – sitting at the piano together, pressing kisses to each other’s cheeks.

“Levi. They’re –”

“I know.” he whispers.

Hange looks over at Levi, only to find him smiling from ear to ear.

“Should we say something?”

Levi looks over at the two of you and shakes his head.

“No.” he whispers.

Hange smiles, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

“Yeah. I can finally rest in fucking peace.” Levi responds.

Eren makes you breakfast the following morning. It almost gives you deja vu – but the good kind – watching him make the bowl of ramen as you stand there by his side, sitting on the counter and dangling your feet over the granite.

Eren uses his free hand to hold yours.

“Does it make you sad?” you ask.

“What?”

“That this is like our last time eating ramen in this house together.”

Eren smiles and squeezes your hand three times.

“No.” he responds, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You push him slightly.

“Levi and Hange could come any minute.”

“Are you twelve? Why would we hide this from them?”

You pause.

“I don’t know. I…I was kind of thinking that we’d wait to tell people, or at least everyone, until we…I don’t know. Get some time to ourselves.” you respond.

Eren smiles.

“I like it. We’ll do whatever you want to.”

You frown.

“Well, I don’t want you to follow my lead just because. If you want to scream it from the rooftops and tell everyone, I am more than happy to do that.” you clarify.

“No, no. Really. I don’t want to tell anyone – just Levi and Hange.” Eren responds.

You smile.

“Okay. I can do just Levi and Hange.”

“Are you praying on our downfall? Why did I just hear my name?” Levi asks, as he shuffles into the room and spares the two of you a glance in the kitchen.

“But of course! What else would we do in our free time?” you respond, as you give Hange a nod as they set the kettle for Levi’s tea.

Eren waits for the noodles to boil as he turns around, opening his arm up and tucking you into the crook of his arm, as you loop your arms around his torso. Levi spares a glance to Hange, before looking back at the two of you.

“Do you two have something you want to share with the class?” Levi asks.

“Nothing you haven’t guessed already.” you respond.

Hange gives an excited squeal, before reaching forward and wrapping their arms around the two of you and screaming in your ears.

“I am so fucking happy for you guys! I almost burst into tears when I saw you guys kissing last night!”

You feel your eyes widen.

“You saw us what?”

“Levi and I were feeling all sentimental and stuff so we wanted to go over to the set just to soak it all in for the last time. When we got there, the two of you were kissing! I wanted to interrupt but I figured you know…give you your privacy and all that.” Hange squeals.

“Thank god.” you murmur.

It would been infinitely embarrassing if Hange and Levi were there to watch what happened after.

“Hange. Part of leaving them there alone was also not mentioning the fact that we saw them there.” Levi deadpans.

Levi gives Hange a passive glare, before turning back to the two of you.

“Don’t fuck it up this time.” he states.

You both smile.

“We won’t.”

“Good. Well, I’m happy for you two. I can tell that the love was worth the wait and…and all the trouble too.”

You both look at each other and smile, before Eren turns around and starts plating the bowls. And you sink in the feeling – trying to paint all the details to memory – and compare them to the first time the four of you ate together.

After Eren broke the bowl because of your noise cancelling headphones, Levi and Hange telling you what method acting was for the first time – Eren promising that you two were going to be the best.

“Hey, Levi.”

“Yeah?” he responds.

“Did you find out anything about the people who are buying the house after us?”

Levi turns to look at you.

“Why do you ask?”

You shrug.

“I don’t know. I just want to make sure that it was someone who was going to love the house just as much as we do.”

Levi looks back at you, before giving you a smile.

“It’s a young couple. Margaret and Bruce. They’re big into music so they wanted the set space for the acoustics.”

You turn back to Eren, eyes wide, as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not sad about this breakfast at all. We have a hundred more in front of us.” he whispers, before taking the two steaming bowls to the table where Hange and Levi are sitting.

You shake your head, unable to contain your smile, before you jump off the counter and join the three of them.

Together, but not for the last time.

an: one more. someone ask for the birds of a feather track list i have it ready.

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

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zepskies · 1 day

Text

Wake Me Up - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: The moment we've all been waiting for...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! PTSD, medical trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, smut and feels (and "herb" smoking lol).

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 4: “The Power in You”

In the morning, you woke before the man sleeping beside you. The longer you stared at his peaceful face, the more you wanted to remember why your heart ached just looking at him. And after last night, you couldn’t doubt him anymore.

Ben cared about you. Your heart could even hope to believe that he loved you, even if that hope surprised you.

He made you feel comfortable and warm. He made you feel safe.

So with these thoughts on your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed and got freshened up for the day. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and when you padded out into the living room on bare feet, you found the rest of the apartment empty.

Marie must’ve gone to work already, you realized, as it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Instead of going into the kitchen for your usual ritual of coffee and rummaging for breakfast, you found yourself all too curious about the man still snoring down the hall.

You decided to venture into the office you apparently shared with him. There was a big crate of vinyl records, a few of which featured Ben on them with various artists of the 70s and 80s. The cheesy album covers made you smile in amusement.

You moved on to the books on the shelves. Most of these seemed to be from your collection, as you recognized your favorites. Your fingers brushed over their dusty spines.

The pads of your fingers paused over something binder-like, not book-like. You pulled it out and realized it was a photo album. So, bringing it over to Ben’s large leather chair, you sat down and flipped it open.

The first pictures were in black and white. You didn’t recognize the young woman in one of them. Not until you saw her again next to a tall, stoic looking man, who had Ben’s facial structure and broad frame. You saw the young and cocky versions of Ben distilled in sepia tones, and it made a smirk pull at your lips.

The further you flipped through the album, the more your attention got sucked in. There was an old-school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at Backgammon.

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around you. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

You gasped and held a hand to your temple, flinching at the sudden sensation. You’d taken your medication. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But your vision altered. In your mind’s eye, you saw a dark club where people were dancing to Latin pop. You were clothed in black leather and flashing lights, and someone was spinning you across the dance floor.

As the scenes began to change in flashes, the pain in your head intensified. You whimpered and gripped your head with both hands. The photo album slid off your lap and to the floor.

You remembered being tied to a chair, staring up at Ben’s stoic face. And there were so many other faces you knew that you knew: Hughie and Annie, M.M., Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie, Frank, Loco, Saul, your mother and sister, Grace, Stan Edgar, your father, Jon…

And Ben. He was standing over you, with worried eyes. You were pinned to the ground this time—a sharp pain in your shoulder.

“Stay awake.” It was both an order and a plea as the walls of a tower fell around you.

But it mixed with flashes of a knife carving across your flesh. Of demands and questions over and over as you resisted.

No, no, no, no…

You didn’t realize that you’d screamed loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You didn’t hear the thundering footsteps that brought Ben tearing into the office. He took one wide-eyed look at you, slumped and huddling on the floor, rocking yourself, holding your head with both hands, and he got down to one knee in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders.

You couldn’t speak. And to Ben, it didn’t seem like you were even hearing him as tears slipped down your face.

“Hey!” he barked, startling you with a flinch, but you blinked faster and looked up at him. Part of him felt a measure of relief at that small victory.

“Tell me what's happening,” he said, with deeply furrowed brows.

He held your face in his hands, and he could feel you shaking under his grasp. You uttered an agonized sound and grabbed onto his wrists, shutting your eyes tight.

“It hurts!” you managed to grit out. “Hurts bad this time.”

For the second time in his long life, Ben felt helpless. That feeling clawed through his stomach and up into his throat. It was like he was watching you fall apart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

…No. His jaw locked as he ground his teeth. No. He wasn’t going to let you break.

“Wait here,” he said. He didn't want to move you, in case that made it worse.

He left you briefly just to grab his cell phone, but he was calling Dr. Burke on his way back to you. There he kneeled on the ground and pulled you close while he waited for the damn doctor to answer. You clung to his shirt, pressed your face into his chest and wept hot tears.

Ben dropped the phone when you cringed, with a pained cry. He called your name and tried to pry you off him just enough so that he could see your face.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey! Look at me!”

There was a long moment where you couldn’t answer him.

Then, slowly, slowly…the pulsing behind your eyes and at the back of your head began to recede. Not all the way, but enough to blink your eyes open and release a breath. You were trembling, with your fingers wound tightly in Ben’s shirt. You were able to let go.

You blinked certain shadows out of the corners of your eyes while you caught your breath. When you next looked up at Ben, you saw that his face was tight with apprehension. It confused you.

“Ben?” you prompted. He took your hand, whether to steady you or himself, he’d never tell.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, his voice edged.

You blinked in shock for a moment as you caught your breath. Then, your lips twitched at a smile.

Ah, you recognized his polite way of asking if you were okay.

“Wow. That’s my caring boyfriend,” you said wryly.

Ben’s expression slackened. You became even more confused, and a little concerned, especially by the fact that you were sitting in his lap, but you both were on the ground.

“What?” you asked him. Why was he looking at you like that? What was happening here?

Ben quirked his head at you in wonder.

“How long have we lived here?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking you that? But he looked dead serious, like this was a test of some kind.

“Almost a year. What, is your memory fading already?” You joked weakly, despite the way your head was still aching, just much less intense than before.

You realized then that the photo album you made for him for Christmas was on the floor, a couple of pictures displaced.

“What’s this doing on the floor?” You bent over to pick it up, even though just that small movement made your head swim. “Whoa…”

Ben grasped your arms and righted you. He stared into your eyes.

“Do you remember what happened two months ago?” he asked.

He was so damn serious, he was starting to scare you. When you contemplated his question, you realized the fog that had claimed your mind for so long was beginning to lift.

Piece by piece, it returned to you.

You remembered waking up in the hospital, everyone coming to see you, the doctor telling you…

“Something happened to me,” you said slowly, rubbing your aching forehead. Your brows furrowed, and you clung to Ben’s arm. “Am I…am I okay?”

That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure out, Ben thought.

He reminded you that you were taken by Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom. Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team found you, but you’d been hurt. Along with your other injuries, your skull was fractured. It affected your memory, among other things.

“My memory,” you repeated. “Ben, did I…?”

You looked up at him with a small gasp. His face remained stoic, but you saw through it as his gaze veered away from you.

You remembered that he’d been taking care of you with your mother for weeks now. You remembered that you’d forgotten him.

You took his face in your trembling hands. Both sorrow and apology showed in your eyes, along with brimming tears.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” you said, through choked emotion. “I can’t believe I…”

Ben didn’t speak, but he met your gaze while trying to stamp down the full force of his relief. He swallowed past an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“That you saved me, as usual,” you laughed through your tears. “And that I owe you this.”

Your thumbs brushed his bearded cheeks in a tender caress, and you brought him down to kiss you. His lips met yours in kind as his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose and held you a bit tighter against him. Part of him was still wary of hurting you further, and reluctant to even accept this as real.

After a moment longer, you paused, pulling back a little.

“I guess I’m back,” you said, in the small space between his face and yours.

Ben sighed. He brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, and he claimed your lips again.

Dr. Burke arrived within the hour to check you over, and to confirm that most of your memories had returned. Meanwhile, her team of nurses checked your vitals and prepped you for a blood transfusion from Ben. In your bedroom, you sat up on your side of the bed while a bag of his O-positive circulated into your bloodstream.

A couple of hours of bed rest later, your body was completely healed, and even free of scars. The powerful ache in your head that had become commonplace had vanished. And afterward, the doctors took up their supplies and left.

You were finally able to take in your familiar surroundings. Your fingertips passed over picture frames on your dresser, the ornate perfume bottle Ben had gotten you for Christmas, your favorite throw blanket you’d tossed carelessly onto the floor this morning. You paused for a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

It was odd to see yourself dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slightly frizzy hair around your shoulders, your skin free of any scars. You touched your cheek tentatively, marveling at the way you didn’t feel any pain.

Ben’s frame appeared behind you, as did his hands on your hips. You turned in his arms and pulled him into an embrace. You smiled at the warmth you felt through his shirt. Your own portable heater.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked. He had to wonder at how easily you’d slipped yourself into his arms just now. Yet another small reminder that you were his again.

In answer to his question, you gave a hum of contemplation, all while your hands moved down his back. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a smile.

“I think you can guess this time,” you replied.

Ben’s eyes roamed over you, over your face, your body held in his arms, and back up to your lips.

One more added perk of your “medical treatment” had you pulling him down to you by his shirt for a heated kiss. His strength coursed through your veins, making you more solid and energized than when you were once on V24.

Ben heeded your demanding kiss with a near growl as he took you into his arms and walked you back towards the bed. A warning triggered in his mind, however. It had him cupping the back of your head and laying you down with more gentleness than he usually had with you in times like these.

Not to say that he was overly rough with you, but as he positioned himself above you and began to undress you, tank top and pants flung to the floor, you noticed how careful he was being. After you helped him get rid of his own shirt and pants, you slowed things down for a moment, once again caressing his cheek. It encouraged him to meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “You know I’m pretty much as strong as you right now, right? You won’t hurt me. I’m not in pain anymore.”

Ben nodded, releasing a sharp breath. “Right.”

He knew that, of course. He’d just had to get used to treating you like fragile glass over the past two months. Every time he’d helped you, touched you, cared for you, he’d had to use every ounce of his self-control to temper his strength even more so than usual. It was hard to turn that off.

You smiled. An idea sparked in your head, and you pushed at his chest to let you sit up. There you encouraged him to roll over and switch positions, so that he was lying on his back and you were straddling his hips. You slid your hands up his toned stomach and chest and you bent down to kiss his neck.

He closed his eyes as you burned a wet path across his skin. Your lips traveled down his chest, where he slid his fingers into your hair. It prompted you to look up at him with a smile. Seeing him watching you with half-lidded eyes made a small flood of heat pool between your legs.

You couldn’t help but move back up and guide his face up to yours for a kiss. He deepened it pretty much immediately, his tongue hungrily demanding entrance to your mouth as you began rocking your hips against his.

His hands tightened on your waist, but they soon slid up your sides to unclip your bra. He slid down the panties next, and you broke away for a moment to shimmy them down your thighs. You helped him do the same with his underwear.

He gripped at your thighs and ass hard enough to leave serious bruises, if you were normal. Right now though, your bones, your skin, your touch was just as strong as his. Now, his iron grip just made you smile.

The feeling of your smooth, warm skin under his hands, your wet folds brushing against his straining cock, the promise between your thighs, it all made him groan into your mouth. He sat up and held you to him, skin against flushed skin, your breasts pressing against his chest. He grinded his thick, hard length against your core, earning a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck, I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted. He fisted a hand into your hair and bared your neck for him. He trailed wet kisses that occasionally grazed with teeth. You shuddered against him as your hands splayed against his back.

“Ben, I’m so sorry,” you whispered in his ear. You held him tighter for a different reason.

“Enough,” he said. His words were gruff, but he soothed a hand through your hair. “It’s over. We’re here now.”

You nodded, biting your lip and blinking against the sting of tears.

What you didn’t know was, the last thing he wanted was for you to apologize to him. He couldn’t fucking tolerate it.

Instead, he reached a hand between you and slid a hand down the inside of your thigh, and then two fingers between your folds, and into your wet heat. He wasted no more time in working you open.

He drew a hot moan from you, one that echoed in his ear while his thumb found your clit, and the rest of his fingers toyed with your pussy. You ached to be filled, and your core was already throbbing around his fingers.

You gripped his hair tight. Your hips began to undulate with the tempo of his pulsing fingers.

“Ben,” you implored and whined at the same time. Your inner walls were squeezing his hand tight as his fingers brushed with purpose over that sensitive place, deep inside you.

“That’s right. Fucking squeeze the shit out of me,” he demanded. “Want you gushing all over my hand.”

“You’re about to get what you want,” you panted. “Fuck…”

He didn’t care that your iron grip was threatening to rip a chunk out of his hair. He was stroking you with single-minded precision, until you finally clamped down that much harder on his hand and gasped in his ear. To him, that sound was his own personal symphony. He never got tired of making you come apart, and making you sing just for him.

And you…well, you certainly never got tired of letting him. This time though, you’d wanted to be on top so you could be the one to make him feel good—and give him a little care after everything that had happened. But you couldn’t even argue when Ben rolled you onto your back again. Still, you slid your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to give you some star treatment,” you said breathlessly. You began to sit up again. “Here, let me—”

“You’re gonna let me fuck you deep into this fucking mattress ‘til we break a few springs,” he said. “That sound good for you?”

He bent down and sucked hard at your neck. Meanwhile, he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, your eyes closing. You gasped as he bit down just under your ear, marking you as his, and earning another gasp of pleasure from you as your body pressed against his.

Then he lined his cock up to your entrance. Once he breached your folds, your squeezing grip on his arms encouraged him to sheathe himself inside you, sliding all the way home.

You shuddered at the delicious feeling of being filled. Your heels pressed into his back, urging him to keep moving. He still took the time to brush his hand against your cheek, a tender caress.

You blinked up at him with a smile. He gave you one back, albeit more reserved. In turn, you swept his hair away from his eyes, like you were wont to do. He secretly reveled in the feeling of it, the familiarity of you. He turned his head and laid a kiss against your wrist.

But after that brief flash of tenderness, Ben pushed forward, quite literally, to steal your breath away. Each new stroke of his cock deep inside you made the coil of warmth and pleasure tighten, for both of you. The sound of mingled breaths and flesh against flesh filled the room as you two moved together. And in this, you two had always been in sync.

His hand moved between you to circle roughly at your clit.

“Come on, baby. At least one more for me.”

You nodded, panting for breath. You moved the angle of his hand to just right, and his last pounding strokes finally drove you over the edge. You came shortly before he did, spilling into you with hot abandon and a ragged sound in his throat.

You two recovered there for a moment. He rested his forehead against yours, and again, you swept your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Eventually, he pulled back and opened his eyes to meet yours. He grasped your free hand off his shoulder and pressed a kiss into your palm. Then he smirked down at you.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Long afterwards, your body felt like warm molasses. You’d both gotten cleaned up and now shared the bed properly in rest. You were half-dozing while you laid warm, comfortable, and naked in his arms.

You’d called your mom earlier to let her know what had happened today, and that you’d recovered fully following the blood transfusion…and if she wanted to grab dinner with Louisa tonight before coming home, then that would give you and Ben some time to “catch up.”

Thankfully, Marie had enough tact to read between the lines. She told you that she’d be back later this evening, and Louisa would come to visit you again tomorrow.

You were at peace as you trailed lazy patterns across Ben’s chest while he smoked a blunt.

He deserves it, you thought with a smile. That led you to shift onto your side and rest your weight on your elbow, above his shoulder.

“You know something?” you said. “Thank you for being so gentle with me throughout all this. I know I didn’t always give you an easy time of it.”

Ben shook his head, smiling slightly before he blew out a puff.

“What else is fucking new?” he said. You smiled too, but you still grabbed his chin, so he’d look at you.

“I’m serious,” you said. “Thank you.”

He sobered, letting out another coil of smoke through his nose.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Your head quirked. You released him to caress his cheek instead.

“Yeah, babe. I’m all healed up now,” you reassured.

“Not entirely what I meant,” he said. He hesitated, his gaze dropping, before it met yours again. “…It took us three days to find you.”

That made you dim with more sobering consideration, when you realized what he meant. You had finally remembered what you went through with the Rawlins brothers, held captive in that dark, disgusting cave. A shudder ran down your spine.

Those memories had only just returned to you a few hours ago, and you’d immediately shut them away in the “don’t file this into your core memories” pile. You really hadn’t had too much time to reflect on that, or even process it all really.

Tears stung at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled, but you tried to breathe past it, closing your eyes.

“I’m okay now. It’s in the past,” you said.

In other words, denial of the purest form.

Ben shook his head with a sigh. He put out his blunt on the ashtray on his nightstand, setting it aside. He slid a hand up your back and gathered you closer against his chest. You rested your head there.

You sucked in a tremulous breath, and your tears finally fell. You sniffed and tried to bat them away, but you let the sound of his heartbeat steady you.

What you’d been through was…beyond words. It was more than you’d ever been through, even with your father. Even though you were grateful to be you again, there were also things you wished you could forget again. Things that were etched into your psyche, and you were certain you’d see them again when you next closed your eyes.

“It shouldn’t have fucking happened,” Ben said. "This one's on me."

His voice dislodged you from your spiraling thoughts, if for the moment. It drew your eyes back up to his as your mouth parted. You knew that was his way of apologizing.

“Ben, it wasn't your fault,” you said, laying a hand on his chest.

He gave you a measured look.

“We both know that’s not true,” he said. Always to the point.

“And…” he began to add, but he cut himself off. You tilted your head at him.

“And?” you prompted.

Ben’s lips pressed together in hesitation. He almost wished he hadn’t set down his blunt. Instead, he looked you in the eyes like a man.

“Your family doesn’t know who’s really responsible for this,” he said. The admission was a small weight off his heart, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge that bit. “All they know is that it was…retaliation.”

You looked up at him then, with a frown.

“You mean Mom and Louisa? You didn’t tell them it was the Rawlins brothers,” you clarified.

After a moment, Ben nodded. "Yeah."

You could thought you could also read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying.

Who’s really responsible for this…

You took in a deep breath, then you released it. You had a feeling your mother would understand if you told her the truth, but Louisa, on the other hand?

“Okay,” you said. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

He tacitly agreed, even if the well-hidden depths of his guilt remained. You saw all that too.

Before he reached for his blunt again, you took his hand. You laced your fingers with his, and raised your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss over his knuckles.

“Look, I knew what I was getting into when we decided to be together,” you said. “I don’t regret it, because…I love you.”

Ben’s gaze began to drift away, but you turned his face back to you with a finger.

“I love you,” you repeated, with emotion making your eyes sting. “I know we’ll get past this. Probably with copious amounts of therapy on my end, but we will.”

Ben considered that with a shallow nod. He couldn’t help but reach for you, cupping your cheek. He bent down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, just thinking.

You gave him the time he needed, and in the meantime, you let yourself be comforted by his warmth and closeness. You also wiped away your remaining tears, sniffling.

“Okay,” he said, at last.

“Okay?” you echoed. “What does that mean?”

“This,” he said, and guided your face to his for another kiss. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. And, after a slight pause, he allowed himself to speak an ultimate truth.

“I love you,” Ben said. His face wasn’t stoic, or reluctant. It was honest.

“I may not say it enough,” he continued, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it's you and me. Like Sonny and Cher. When they were good, before the ugly divorce. Or like Bonnie and Clyde. Just, you know, without the grisly end bit."

You laughed and shook your head incredulously. Sign this man up for Hallmark cards.

Ben made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Whatever. The point is, you’re mine, understand?" he said. "That’s just how it is.”

“Is that right?” you teased. A smile tugged at Ben’s lips as well.

“That’s right,” he affirmed, squeezing your waist. You laughed a little more and settled back into resting against his chest.

“Okay,” you replied.

And for now, it really was.

AN: Ahh, the end of a series is always bittersweet, no? I had a lot of fun with this BMD mini series, and I hope you did too! I'm sure I'll come back to these two eventually (there are still BMD requests in my inbox), but let me know what you thought of how we wrapped up here with Wake Me Up. 💚