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Bad case of the munchies
#hellsing oc#my art#my oc#laura chastel#cw blood#cw gore#<it's raw meat you never know#werewolf#werewolves#maybe cannibalism isn't symbolic or romantic or metaphorical maybe a bitch is just hungry#let a girl eat!!! what is this 2002#it doesn't matter where she got the human leg from. why are you in women's business#she needs a napkin not your opinion#color theory beat my ass here btw. the colors were chosen as they were there was no filter except a color burn for the extra pop#you can never see her arm freckles bc of her body hair :( sad#anyway. rendering practice
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Screaming crying scratching at the walls of my enclosure because it’s now somehow necessary to not just use social media but excel at it to even be considered for any of my dreams jobs??!?! Since when do I need 30k followers to be good at something other than a popularity contest?? Why does follower count matter to how good of an artist, writer, or general creator I am? I shouldn’t be required to know how to market and pander to the masses when all I want to do is create art! I just want to make things! I don’t care about selling them to the most people ever! I don’t care about notoriety! I’m a creator! I. JUST. WANT. TO. CREATE!!!
#sorry for the rant#it just makes me so mad that there is no more creation without gratuitous self marketing#I see so many posts from artists (tattoo artists especially) where they’re talking about not getting hired until they have 30k+ followers#this is insane!!! thousands of followers from all over will not directly contribute to your business outside of marketing#which should be the studios burden. not the artists#you want customers for your shop? Pay for an ad#it’s not your artists job to serve as your main source of marketing#the same with writing books#it used to be you turned in your manuscript- got chosen- and the publishers would market it for you#now it’s all about clout#your following#publishers are actually choosing books based on follower count bc they want a guaranteed sell#they’ll choose these books in favor of actual well written pieces bc the author had no following#it’s disgusting#the introduction of social media to the artistic process was insidious and cruel#you think this isn’t negatively affecting the quality of todays literature?#go look at the sun and it’s shade#horribly written book#no clear world building or any real sense of plot or genuine storytelling#but does it have thousands of sales! the author had thousands of followers on booktok#so of course it’s good!#right?#RIGHT?!?!
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oh my god the amount of tech macgyvering it took to get my email and password updated for instagram
#bc the account was ancient so it was linked to my old email that i can't access anymore#AND i couldn't remember the password to it#so i had to use that 'account manager' thing to change my email in facebook (where i do remember my password)#then go into instagram and add the email to those accounts (therefore switching it from my old inaccessible email)#and THEN when I'd confirmed the email change. i was able to change the passwords using the new email#holy FUCK that was way harder than it needed to be#but one of my instagram accounts is my business account so I couldn't just delete and start over#all this just to attempt to change my name in the account to my chosen name
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i am experiencing emotions rn and idk what they are :)
#so i got laid off in march and i have not shut up about it since bc it was a horrible experience and i’m still upset about it#and quite literally the only place i wanted to work after that wasn’t hiring at the time but they said to check back in the summer#so i just started picking up extra shifts at my second job bc i’d rather wait on this place than apply to places i have no interest in#then end of april i get a call from this girl i met at my old job saying she got fired#we were super close last year and then our friendship got super weird and tense when she suddenly became my boss#and tbh i’m not at all surprised she got fired bc as much as i like her as a person she was not at all qualified to be running that business#but anyway we’ve been talking more lately than we have in the past couple months#and i was thinking our friendship could maybe go back to normal now that neither of us works there anymore#BUT now i’m feeling super weird like idk if i’m uncomfortable or annoyed or what i’m just feeling put off#bc the place i wanted to work finally started hiring a couple weeks ago and i applied and interviewed last week#and yesterday i got the job which i’m super excited about#and this friend just sent me a screenshot of her rejection letter for the exact same job at the same location#like am i crazy or is it justified to be weirded out by that??#why would you apply for the same exact job as me and not even tell me until after you get rejected#and i know she knows i applied bc i’ve been talking about it nonstop with all my friends#like i’m so confused#it’s not even about the fact that she could’ve potentially gotten chosen over me it’s just weird that she didn’t tell me she was applying#i’ve literally been talking about this job since before they were even hiring like as soon as i got laid off i said i wanted to work here#she didn’t get fired until almost 2 months after that so she wasn’t looking for a job until a couple weeks ago#so i can’t think of any scenario where it would make sense for her to just not mention this to me#idk someone please tell me if this is weird or not bc idk how to respond to her rn#lj.txt
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Hi guys! I wanted to try and do daily updates on nominations again, but I ended up being REALLY busy (plus friend drama, ew), so I will not be able to do that for today. I'm actually going to make it 'sporadic updates', and keep the form open... at least a few more days, maybe a week? Probably a week, I'll decide in the morning.
#sorry!#i rly wanted to provide an update but life got in the way sadly#so that will not be happening.#i may have chosen the worst possible week to run this bracket#(i have SO MANY things happening)#i got so excited abt running this bracket that i forgot how busy i'd be this week#bc at this rate daily updates are only gonna happen... wednesday thursday sunday#so i'm keeping it open longer and changing it to 'sporadic updates'
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lads i dont think im getting this job
#i just feel like if i was the chosen candidate i would have heard from them already.#bc supposedly they need to fill the position by the 5th#and we're only a few hours from close of business on the 2nd!#if they thought i would need time to negotiate (i wont) i feel like they would have made an initial offer already#so at this point it's like. either A) they picked someone else and just havent told the rejects yet or B) they're flopping (possible)#or C) they intuited that i would accept immediately with no negotiation and so they can wait until the last minute to make me an offer
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Aw shit here we go again...
#in case anyone’s wondering why im rbbing Seventeen out of nowhere... idk... i was chosen by svt distribution system#it was friday (29th) evening and I was scrolling tiktok and minding my own business when Mingyu's cute ass came up on my fyp#the rest is history...#its crazy bc every group i actually get into has been on accident and against my will#every time i try to get into a group intentionally it never works kdjdkdjd#anywah#im halfway thru their discography (and have fml on repeat... that EP FUCKS...) and have yet to skip any song...#are they even capable of making bad music?????#this is not normal....#also rip me... i have 8 years of content to catch up to#and theyre on the verge of military age🤡#every single time🤡🤡🤡#niki screaming into the void
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idt i know any other btvs / angel fans so i'm probably speaking this into a uncomprehending void rn but . . . what if for taiyang's vampire verse, his ship was a slayer x vampire pairing. yes.... eheheeheheh. * laughs to self evilly & sexily *
#that would be AWOOGA#altho i DONT use btvs/angel lore for his vampire verse so you wouldn't have to be a fan to understand it !!#it's rly only the concept of a Slayer that i'd be stealin from btvs -- which is easy to explain ...#slayers are basically just Thee 'Chosen One'; born to slay all the vampires & other baddies of the world ...#idk i might actually Seriously Consider && Offer this concept later -- but for now I'm just thonking aloud ajsjaj#i'm rly particular abt using my vamp verse bc i have my Own specific lore for vampires that I use & tbh i'm obsessed with it...#it's my fav lore i've ever come up with i LOVE IT SO MUCH jasjsaj.#so i would go feral if i ever used it JASJAJ im afraid to unleash that energy on the world.....#also: I have a busy night & day tmrw so I prob won't be doing much online until thats over w/. but ! I will try to answer IM's and such !!#*ABSCONDS *#wait i just had to add... i'm trying not to complain abt this new tumblr layout bc i know i know we all hate it but......#MY GOD WHA T A JUMP SCARE LOGGING ONTO THIS SITE IS NOW.#it's so uugly.... like proportionally it's so off & wrong ..... my eyes.... sobs....
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I love how vastly different June and Levi are and how their relationships with Enver differ in so many ways.
If Levi is a guy believing he is equal to gods, then June is, at his core, a prodigal follower.
It's a pattern he doesn't break out of even as he betrays his father for Selune. Gortash didn't manage to shake this part of him, only created a push, allowing June chose a god other than Bhaal (i.e. June didn't want Enver to die, realized he didn't want to die himself and entered a pact-like relationship with the Lady of Silver to prevent these two things from happening.)
The hardest thing for him is to go back on his word/dismantle the existing alliance. His mortal flaw is loyalty, blind loyalty.
So at some point his story comes to a crossroads.
He can either reaffirm his alliance with Gortash, unknowingly dooming him a Gortash himself, not to mention death of Duke Ravengard and many other casualities.
In this scenario Gortash dies from the psyonic command of the Nether Brain and June becomes the hero of Baldur's Gate and the new archduke.
Which sounds fun and games until you realize it also includes him becoming a new Chosen of Bane, because June might have learned how to break out of his father's chains, but he doesn't know what to do with himself and, after his and Selune's ways part, is an easy prey for gods with less than honorable plans.
The other road comes with stabbing Gortash in the back, metaphorically speaking. It includes the wicked choice of putting a tadpole into his head and making him cooperate because "oh, but I can just relinquish the protection astral prism bestows on you. I am sure you'll love being Elder Brain's thrall".
It's a choice what leaves absolutely everyone (well, not EVERYONE) horrified because not only they did not expect that from June, but also looking how pleased June is with himself by walking Gortash into the corner opens their eyes to the fact what he is not, in fact, a hero. He was a villain in the past and some of this past still lingers, even more after Selune's cold soothing light has left.
And, ridiculously, it's the choice what saves everyone; gondians, Ravengard, Karlach, Gortash himself.
#bg3 spoilers#bg3#dark urge: june#june's main theme is servitude and wherever he breaks out of it#if he does it's his good ending if he doesn't - the bad one where he is bane's new favorite tyrant#all gortash managed to do is to show june he has a choice who to follow#and june breaking out of this badly fitting loyalty is a result of the bond he builds with companions#also to clarify of course june and enver were A THING#surprisingly the whole tadpoling business actually makes it better bc before that Gortash kind of looked down at june#but after that june gains new respect in the man's eyes. Enver didn't know his favorite assassin could be cunning and wicked#in a way beyond bland murder that's it#me: *invests in more than one durge and makes them whole ass people*#me: i am very normal about this game#what are they doing after the end of the game? Gortash kind of manages to pull the 'i was enthralled as you all' card#Probably doesn't manage to keep his title as archduke but weasels out of any reprecussions#is he still Bane's Chosen? I doubt it. At this point Bane has probably deemed him a failure.#there's a big chance he tags along with June and Astarion to Underdark because hey all these unliberated ppl in there!#Astarion: so let's make it clear...You're planning to conquer Underdark?#Gortash: Conquer? Such a crude world. I am planning to liberate them. save them from themselves!#June laughing: sure you do love. i bet that's what tyranny is al about: liberation. freedom of wills and artistic expression.#Gortash: laugh all you like my dear partner in crime but don't you see them suffer?#Gortash: don't you hear them choke on a breath under suppressing rule of the Spider Queen?#June: so you deem yourself a savior now?#gortash: yes. The question is: will you save these people with me?#June:...a...compelling argument. I doubt we can do worse than the existing conditions under the Lloth are#Astarion: another world' saving but also inevitably self-centered quest? Another one? We JUST survived the last one.#June: I don't know. We live here now. isn't it natural to make this place more... lived in? I like the dangerous nature here#June: but I doubt drow will be very welcoming. And Menzoberranzan seems like a good place for the spawns to settle#June: ...if we restructure some things that's it#Astarion painfully aware he travels with two fools with delusions of word domination/salvation: fiiine.
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This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”
Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤
Beg for it
enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.
a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!
5.7k words
“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.
“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.
“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.
“Fuck”
“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.
“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.
“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”
“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.
You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.
That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.
But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.
The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.
“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.
“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.
“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.
“No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.
“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”
“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.
“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”
“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.
As the game progressed, the bickering continued.
"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.
You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"
Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.
"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.
"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.
"No"
"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.
"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.
After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.
“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.
"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.
"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.
“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.
"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.
They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.
"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.
"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"
"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.
As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.
"B6" Jonathan called out.
You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"
Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"
"Just focus"
When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"
Nancy checks their board, "Miss"
You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"
Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"
A few rounds later, it was your turn again.
"E5" Eddie calls out.
"Miss" Nancy announces.
"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.
"Like you’ve done any better"
"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.
"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.
"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.
"See? I told you" you smirk.
"Don’t get cocky, princess"
The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.
"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says
You nod.
"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.
“YES!”
“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.
Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.
And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.
“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.
“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.
“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.
"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”
Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.
His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.
--
Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.
“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.
“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.
“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.
“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.
“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.
“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.
“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”
“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.
“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”
“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.
“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”
“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.
“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.
“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.
The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.
A few weeks later you're all set to go.
The trip to get there was...
Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.
"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.
"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.
"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.
Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.
Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.
Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.
So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.
You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.
So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.
But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.
You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.
The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.
“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.
“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”
“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.
You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.
“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”
“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.
"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"
“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business”
“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.
“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.
You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.
As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.
A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"
Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.
“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.
“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”
Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.
You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.
“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.
“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.
“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.
“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.
“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.
“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.
“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”
“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.
“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.
“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.
“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.
“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.
“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.
After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.
“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”
And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.
“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”
“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.
“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”
After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.
“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.
“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”
“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.
“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”
“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.
“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”
“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.
“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.
“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”
“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.
“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”
“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.
But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.
Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.
To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?
That fucking kiss.
After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.
You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.
He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.
A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.
He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.
Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.
He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.
It turns you both on even more.
Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.
You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.
You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.
He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.
He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.
"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.
You can't. You won't.
"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"
You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.
"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"
You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.
He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.
He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.
He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.
He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.
His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.
He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.
You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.
As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.
"Still doubting me?"
You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.
"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.
"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.
He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.
You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.
A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.
He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.
"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"
You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.
He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"
You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"
He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.
His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.
"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.
"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.
"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"
And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.
"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.
"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"
You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.
"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.
"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.
Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.
He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.
He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.
He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.
He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.
"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.
"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.
You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.
"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"
Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"
And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.
Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.
You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?
After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.
The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.
Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.
But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.
You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.
You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.
“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.
“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.
“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.
“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.
You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”
You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.
You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.
“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.
“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.
“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.
“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”
After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.
“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.
“What is going on?” you ask again.
“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.
“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.
And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.
“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.
“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.
Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.
He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.
“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.
“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#enemies to lovers
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Can I request vampire Nanami surprising reader on a date but she broke up with him because she’s moving overseas to study animals
𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝔹𝕀𝕋𝔼𝕊
Discord 18+ - Twitter
Pairing: Stalker Vampire Ex-Boyfriend!Nanami Kento x Female Reader
WC: 5.8k
Summary: Did you think he would know how to find you? He's tasted your life essence, been engulfed in your delicious scent, drunk off the taste of you. You could leave if you wanted, he couldn't stop you. But he would find you, he would be watching.
Story Warning: Stalking, Jealousy, Obsession, Biting (duh), Suggestive Things I guess idk lmfao, Blood, Drinking Blood, Spit, Maybe a bit of fingering and who tf knows what else, Kissing with blood, Nanami spit lover?, Nanami Intoxicated on you and your bodily fluids, Exes to Something???, Fingering for sure actually, Kissing with Blood, Profanity bc it's ME, Nanami downbad like SO downbad for reader, he's such a little weirdo
Art by: 𝗣𝗿𝗲��𝗸𝘂ᴬᴿᵀ (@chitrartum) on X
Divider Credit: @jelliedink
A/N: FINALLLLLYYYYYY @lovebittenbyevans it's FINALLY up LOL. Listen, I know I said I would post it yesterday but if yall believed me, that's your fault! I'm a liar! Yall know! LMAO. Anyway, I hope I did this one justice. I haven't written Nanami in so damn long I found myself kinda second guessing myself a lot here, but I'm happy with the final product so I won't complain LOL. Anyway ENJOY!!!
‘There’s something familiar about this scene,’ Nanami thinks as he leans casually against the wall of whatever random building this is.
There’s something familiar about you. You, and your laugh that causes this strange tingling sensation he hasn’t felt in who knows how long. You, and the way your hand grips onto an arm when you find something particularly amusing. You, and the way you lean a little closer when you’re happy.
‘And you’re so beautiful when you’re happy like this,’ he thinks. Happy, like you clearly weren't with him.
Nanami's eyes narrow, vision honing in on you and the way you laugh and hold onto an arm and lean a little closer because you’re content and enjoying yourself. If only you were laughing with him, gripping onto him, leaning a little closer to him like you used to.
Perhaps then, he wouldn’t be standing across the street with his gaze locked onto your form while you dine out with another gentleman who most certainly isn’t Nanami Kento.
Everything feels so familiar here, like he’s lived this scene before, because he has. But foreign as well, because he’s an outsider now, no longer a part of your world. Not by his choice. Nanami would never choose to be watching the life he once had played out before him. It feels like some sort of sick joke, like he’s being mocked as he’s watching as you do all the things you used to do with him before you’d up and left one morning, knowing it’d be impossible for him to follow you for quite some time. It gave you one hell of a head start, and it took Nanami awhile to find you again.
But oh, he did find you. And here you are, sitting with another man in the very late hours of the night, at some hole in the wall food stand across the street of a busy intersection. You can’t see Nanami, not from this distance he’s put between you two. But he can absolutely see you, clear as day. Every movement you make, every twitch of muscle, he sees it.
He can hear you, too– hear your laugh, your heartbeat, your breath, the rush of your blood flowing through your veins. He hears it. Everything.
Nanami watches, his eyes hardening when the man beside you slides his plate over and you take a bite of his meal. That used to be him with you at whatever shit hole you’d chosen for your date.
Nanami had always appreciated that about you. Sure, you enjoyed the occasional fancy night out at Nanami’s insistence – getting dolled up and dining at a Michelin star restaurant. But you much preferred the lowkey vibes of grabbing a bite to eat at a smaller establishment or local street vendor. Even if you knew that wasn’t Nanami’s scene.
“It just brings less attention to you,” you’d reason.
And Nanami isn’t an idiot. He could read between the lines. What you meant was it brings less attention to the fact that he never orders anything to eat, not even a bread roll. The waitresses would give him strange looks, glancing at your table occasionally as he simply watched you consume your meal while the most he could stomach was a glass of water at best.
It really can’t be helped. Human food makes Nanami viscerally ill, after all. If anything, you may have been more concerned that Nanami was eyeing the staff like they were on the menu.
He’d be lying if he said the sight of you sharing another man didn’t upset him. Not only did you give another man the place beside you that was once his own, you’ve welcomed him into your routine. Welcomed him to the smiles that were once meant for only his eyes. Welcomed him to the laughs that Nanami can hear even above the noise of this late night traffic across the road.
Simply put, you seem to have replaced him. You’ve moved on, tossed him aside for another. And it’s more than Nanami can say for himself.
It’s been months since you ended your relationship, and he just can’t seem to let you go. He knows he should. He knows that he shouldn’t be watching you the way he does. He can’t help it. Besides, it’s not as if you know what he’s doing. He usually keeps his observing to a healthy distance, only to ensure you’ve made it home safely. That you’re tucked into your bed and definitely not out on dates with new men.
Not too far, but not too close either. It’s become a habit for him. He works from home until the late morning, then he sleeps, because what else is he to do? He wakes up once the stars are visible in the sky, then heads straight to your home. And on days he’s not able to get to you because he’s busy…having dinner (sometimes it’s for business reasons!)…he just hopes you’re doing what you usually do on a lazy night; sitting in your pajamas and curled under the soft blankets he’d purchased for you early on in your relationship.
He likes to think you’d kept something that reminded you of him. Do you think of him? Because he thinks of you. Always. If his standing here staring at the back of your head like a madman isn’t any indication. He keeps all your little trinkets, too. Anything you’d left behind, he has.
He’s lived a long life, human emotion having long been cast aside, and your presence awoke something in him. At the time, he couldn’t quite place this feeling and didn't bother digging any deeper for answers. But it’s your absence that provides the knowledge he never sought out. It reminds him that he was once human. That he was once capable of feeling more than insatiable hunger, the need to feed off another.
He’s capable of desire, of love. Nanami doesn’t think he’ll ever feel the way he does about you for anyone else.
Unfortunately for him, that doesn’t seem to be the case for you, as you appear to have finally started seeing someone new. But unfortunately, you’ve made the grave mistake of opting for what appears to be a date that falls within Nanami’s most active hours.
He’s used to the shadows, as it feels most like himself to hide under the cover of darkness. It’s how he was able to find you, able to sense that you’re even breathing and content sighs when you slept were noticeably absent when he’d found himself doing his nightly “check in” on you.
So he does what any concerned ex-boyfriend would do. He follows the sound of your heartbeat. All the way here, where you’re having far too much fun for his liking.
Brown eyes stare as you and your date finally wrap up dinner. Your date helps you from your stool, and you idly chat before he wraps you in a tight hug and Nanami feels his blood boil. Well, if he had a beating heart, he imagines his blood would be boiling.
How dare this man put his hands on you so affectionately? And how dare you receive it so happily? Did all your time together – the kisses, the moans, the love you shared – mean nothing to you?
Fuck this. He’s going over there.
But the moment your date leaves you and you turn to head the opposite direction, Nanami is torn. Should he follow you? Or should he follow your date? On the one hand, he wants to see what you’re up to, if you’re going home and if not, who and where are you going to? On the other, he’d love to sink his teeth into your date's jugular and rip his larynx out. So many tempting choices…but he opts for the former.
He’s on your tail quickly. He’s determined to speak to you, has to see you and confirm that you’re done with him for good. His body moves fast, hurrying through the crowd to try and catch up to you before you can slip through his grasp again. He won’t accept this. He’s given you ample time to come back. He won’t wait a moment longer.
When the crowd thickens in the busier part of the city, it becomes harder for Nanami to see you. The sounds of different heartbeats blend with your own and your scent becomes more difficult to track when you mix in the shitty perfumes and cheap colognes. Before long, he's lost you.
His eyes dart around, quickly and thoroughly scanning every face and body in the crowd. But none of them are you. He's certain of that. Deep breaths, Nanami takes several of them focusing on the familiar rhythmic beat of your heart. The pedestrians move around him as he stands still, eyes closed as he focuses. They mutter their curse words or pardon themselves, but he can’t be bothered to listen to anything but you.
At least a minute passes before he hears it. It's faint at first, but it's there. The light thumping of your heart. He follows it, all the way into a dark alley. And then the panic sets in.
Why would you be here of all places?
Why is your heartbeat so quiet?
Are you in trouble?
“What the hell are you doing, Kento?” Your harsh voice has Nanami spinning on his heel, the tone unfamiliar to him.
There you are, in all your glory. Beautiful as he remembers, though it’s not as if he hasn’t seen you recently. He just hasn’t seen you this close in awhile. The neon signs of the city cast a cute glow along your skin and Nanami has to resist smiling. Because you're also so very pissed, arms folded across your chest and a deep frown sitting on your lips. And yet, you still manage to mesmerize him.
“I was just out–” he begins coolly, but you cut him off.
“Out…Out what exactly?” You ask. “Out…following me?”
He should lie.
He should tell you that he would absolutely never do something as outlandish as following your scent like some cartoon hound dog floating through the air as they chase the smell of food. But that may be hard to believe seeing as that’s how you two started out in the first place – with Nanami searching for his next meal (you) and you somehow charming him into taking you out to dinner instead. What a twist.
Weeks later, he would reveal himself to you as the blood hungry creature of the night he is. And you’d accept him for exactly who he was.
And still, he should lie.
So that at least you feel a little better. Maybe you’ll think this is just some coincidence that he’s run into you in this dank alleyway in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t bother. You know him. And well, at that.
So he tells the truth. All of it.
Your laugh is dry, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to keep your composure. No one is around, save for the people passing by on the sidewalk, not sparing a single glance into the shadows where you hide with your ex-boyfriend. Still, you don’t want to draw any attention to the two of you. Less for either of your sake, and more for the poor person who deigns to interrupt.
“So you’ve been following me…”
Nanami wouldn’t exactly put it that way, but…
“Yes.”
Okay, maybe he would.
He never was one to mince words.
“How long?”
He tilts his head in question.
“How long…” you pause briefly, seemingly gathering your thoughts. “Have you been watching me? Following me? Whatever the hell it is you’re doing?”
Nanami thinks about this, though he knows the answer. It’s been exactly four months and six days, about eighteen and a half weeks, one hundred and twenty nine days total since you left and he picked up this…obsession with you. But who’s keeping track?
“Since you left,” he answers with the truth once again. Even in this darkness, he can see your eyes widen in shock. He doesn’t want to scare you. He wants you to see how much he wants you, needs you even.
“Because you left me without a single word, ___” he tries to explain. “Won’t answer my calls, won’t reply to my text messages, won’t see me –”
Nanami steps closer to you, and you step back, and it causes this strange stinging sensation in his chest that sort of…hurts? Makes him want to beg you not to move any further, because he’s not sure he can withstand it now that he’s within reach of you again.
“Well apparently, you see me all the time!” You grit out, voice rising an octave before you catch yourself.
“I’m only making sure you’re safe,” he tries to reason, but you shake your head.
“No…” You hold up a finger between you both, keeping Nanami at a distance. And that sting settles in again. “No, you’re stalking me, Kento.”
“Yes, but you’re dating. I saw you.”
“And? I’m allowed to go out with people, Kento!”
It’s been so long since Nanami has heard you say his name. And you’ve said it three times in such a short span. It’s doing something to him that he can’t quite put into words.
“And how do you know they’re a good person? How do you know they won’t hurt you? I’m simply looking out for you.”
You rub aggressively at your temples. “Kento…” you sigh. “You…are…a…fucking…vampire.”
Nanami rolls his eyes.
“And a shitty one at that. But I dated you, and I was just fine,” You’re sure to add. “For a vampire, you’re really not as stealthy as you think you are, by the way.”
You’re right. Perhaps he’s been sloppy, following you the moment nightfall comes, tracking your whereabouts. He thought you hadn’t noticed, but has he really made it so obvious?
There’s a short bout of silence between you, you glaring hard at him while he tries to think of a way to make you see reason. But you look away, just as you ask, “Are you hunting me now?”
Your sudden question surprises Nanami, his brows rising when he hears the fear seep into your quiet voice.
He steps forward again, and this time he breathes a sigh of relief when you don’t move. “No, of course not.” His hands cup your face, tilting your head upward so you can see the honesty in his eyes. You let him hold you as he speaks. “I would never hunt you…” Your eyes narrow, and Nanami quickly adds, “...again.”
He sees the way your lips purse together, like you’re trying not to find humor in that. “If anything, I was hunting your date…” he mutters, quickly tacking on “kidding,” when you narrow your eyes again.
But still, he makes a mental note to find that man later.
“The first time,” Nanami says honestly, “I hunted you with the intention to kill. Clearly, things didn’t work out that way.”
You sigh, your features softening as Nanami pours his heart out to you, the way he wishes you would’ve let him before you left. “No…they didn’t.”
He remembers the first time he’d caught your scent, so alluring and delicious, the first time he’d heard your heartbeat, and he’d let the sound lull him to sleep, the first time he’d pressed his tongue to your pulsepoint, the thrumming beneath making his nostrils flare. And then, the first time you’d let him taste your life essence…
“You changed me, ___,” he whispers. “I’m a monster, it’s true. I kill, I manipulate others to get what I want, I hurt others. But I’ve never done any of these things to you.”
Your hands find his wrists, holding tight while he finally blurts out everything he’s been keeping buried all these months.
“You leaving me…it left a hole in my life I didn’t know you filled at the time. I need you. I love you,” he says. “It’s why I watch you, why I follow you. I’m sure I sound a little insane…”
“An understatement,” you murmur. But there’s a tiny smirk playing at your lips. You’re teasing him.
“I have not felt this much emotion towards another since…” He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. “I don’t even know when. But I know for certain, I feel love when I think about you. I thought you felt the same…” He breathes hard, like it was such a strenuous task to get all of that off his chest. Eyes boring into yours, he mutters quietly, rather pathetically, he thinks, “...what changed for you? Why don’t you want me anymore?”
Any other vampire would be mocking Nanami to all hell, dragging his name through the mud at how desperate he is for you, a human. He loves you. There is no doubt there. Why else would he spend any and all of his free hours thinking of you, dreaming of you, seeing you anytime he closes his eyes? You consume him, and the irony is not lost upon him.
It’s been so long since Nanami stepped outside in the daylight. So long since he’s felt the sun on his skin. But your warmth, your presence…you are his sun. He orbits around you.
It can’t be helped. He knows what he wants, knows what he’d do to have you back. He just needs to know that you want him, too.
Your soft breaths against his face has his mind reeling. Your scent is driving him crazy. He doesn’t even know when you two had gotten so close.
“It didn’t change…” You confess, and if Nanami didn’t have incredible hearing, he would have missed it. Your feelings for him haven’t changed. “I’m leaving Tokyo, Kento…”
Nanami thinks he misheard you.
“I’m sorry?”
You repeat it, a little louder this time, albeit shakily. “I’m leaving. Going abroad for school.” You smile softly, and Nanami finds his thumbs gently caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I got into a program to study wildlife and…I’m going to go.”
Now Nanami wishes he had misheard you.
“You…left me…to go and study animals?” He’s not understanding. You can’t do that here?
“No. I left because I need this change, Kento.”
“Why?” The question comes out more strained, more desperate than he intended. “Why do you need to leave me to do this? Why do you need to see other people to do this?”
You can’t look at him now, eyes downcast. “I’m still young, Ken. I have to figure out my life.”
“And you can’t do that with me?”
This is all too much. Why the hell does studying animals mean you have to leave him? That you see other people romantically? That you give yourself to another? Perhaps he should just kill you. It feels like a better solution than letting you leave him for good.
“It’s only for a few years,” you reassure him. “I just…it was easier for me to cut and run. You can’t go with me. The trip is long and…the sun…you just–”
He gets it now. A lengthy flight abroad is impossible for someone like him. Of course you’d want a real life, a mortal life without him. He would be selfish to keep you from that. And he is selfish. He wants you, deserves you. After years of living in the shadows, he wants so badly to step into the light with you.
But he knows that he can’t. He knows he can only give you what you truly deserve – freedom.
“You’ll be great,” Nanami says, trying to control the way his voice threatens to break. “And when you’re done…if you still want me, come back to me, okay?”
You nod, tears pooling at your waterline as you make your silent promise clear.
There are no more words to be said. It’s the closure he needed, though not the results he wanted. He has to let you go. It’s not fair. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to grab you and take you back to his home and keep you locked up so that you can never leave him. Maybe turn you so that you can spend an eternity together. But it’s just not fair.
He feels your hands press against his chest, trembling as you stare up at him. “One more time before I go?”
It’s an offer he can’t, and won’t refuse.
Nanami kisses you, hard and long, hungrily. He slips his tongue into the cavern of your mouth, humming when your tongue tangles with his, and he’s already losing himself in you. In your touch, the little sounds you make, your scent, your taste.
God, how he missed you. How he will keep missing you when you’re gone and even until the day you return.
Your lips slot against his, messy and demanding, hands balling his shirt in your fists as you pull him closer. You step back, dragging Nanami with you, each step moving you further and further until your back hits the wall and Nanami’s towering over you. And he’s losing himself, humming when you sigh into his mouth, hands finding your waist and squeezing out of fear you’ll vanish into thin air if he lets you go, his head tilting just slightly so that he can take up more of your space, more of your air. He’s so lost in you that he barely feels the change, hardly makes out the little yelp you let out, your hands pushing him away as you roughly break free of the kiss.
Eyes wide, your fingertips graze your bottom lip where a cut now resides, thick crimson blood dripping into your hand. “Your fangs…” you’re panting harshly. “They’re out.”
Nanami’s fingers are on his mouth, a single digit running through his lips, along his teeth where he feels the long, sharp canines fully protruding. He’s nicked you. He lost himself so much so he sliced your lip with his fang.
‘This is fucking embarrassing,’ he thinks. The urge to vanish into the shadows and forget about this encounter is strong.
This. This is the effect you have on Nanami. Any and all control he has is out the window. His fangs appearing on their own? It’s the equivalent of suddenly getting an erection while out in public. This has never happened to him before. Not with any of his past lovers. Not even when he’d first turned. And yet, you pull this reaction from him so easily.
Nanami is overtly aware of humans and their mortality, of course. So he doesn’t particularly go out of his way to care for them. But you…he cares for you. You have him skulking around like a rat in the dark, waiting for you to look his way. You have him losing control of his fangs like he’s some goddamn adolescent vampire just from the taste of your saliva.
It’s definitely not the liquid he’d prefer, but he loves it all the same. Intoxicatingly saccharine, so sweet it almost hurts.
“I’m so sorry,” Nanami whispers, taking your hand from your lips. “I lost control.” He lifts your hand to his face, eyes boring into yours as he inhales the enticing scent of your blood. One long breath, deep, savoring the smell. “That seems to happen a lot when it comes to you.” His tongue darts out, his gaze locked on the way your breath hitches, how your heart beats loud like a drum as he slowly drags the warm and wet muscle along your skin.
‘Delicious,’ his mind sings. Nanami’s body reacts as it always does when he even catches the scent of your blood. He leans forward until he’s only an inch away before he drags his tongue along the swelling cut on your lip, humming gruffly at the taste. He’d missed you, and your blood. It’s unlike any others.
You watch him through hooded eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. The sounds of the bustling city just down this alleyway drown out as the two of you simply stare at each other, neither daring to look away. You may not be able to see as well as Nanami can in this darkness, but he sees you, and he’s sure he wears the exact same expression as well – love, desire, need. He sees the way you hold all of it in your eyes. You do care for him, you do love him the same way he loves you. You want him the way he wants you. He sees it so clearly.
He kisses your lips tenderly, careful not to hurt you again. Slow, steady, a bit more controlled than before. He’s trying to reign it in. But it’s you who deepens the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling Nanami closer as you kiss him harder. Your tongue finds its way into his mouth, and Nanami groans, the metallic blend of your blood and saliva sweet on his tongue.
“Fuck,” he breathes.He lips are on yours, rougher this time, the cut on your lip opening again and bleeding, mixing into both of your mouths. “Did you always taste this good?”
You giggle in response, a sound he missed dearly.
“I’m serious,” Nanami pants. “I feel like I can’t think straight just from kissing you.” He grinds his hips into yours, evidence of his need rubbing against your center. “Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted this again? How badly I’ve wanted to see you, to hold you, to touch you, to t–?”
He catches himself, not wanting to beat a dead horse.
“Taste me?” You whisper, fill in the gap, humor in your tone.
Well, it does come with the territory, he supposes.
“That, too.”
Your fingers play with the short blonde locks sitting at the nape of Nanami’s neck, staring up at him and it reminds him of the domesticity you used to have. Reminds him of those little moments in between the busyness of your lives. “I have some idea,” you sigh as Nanami dips his head down to kiss along your jawline, down your neck. “You did stalk me for months, after all.”
He hums against your skin, acknowledging the fact. His lips drag along as he finds the spot that calls to him, and when he presses a light peck to the place where he can see your pulse fluttering, you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair. This was always the part you sort of dreaded, he recalls. And it was also the part you both were most excited for.
“Can I?” Nanami pleads, rubbing his nose along your pulsepoint and inhaling deeply. Your scent has changed, the anticipation and little bit of fear in your blood evident to him. So he presses another kiss, sweet and soothing to your neck again in hopes to calm you. He hopes the answer is a resounding yes, that you’ll let him do this one last time before you leave him for who knows how long.
He’s certain he’ll die right in this spot if you say no.
But your hand glides along his arm, until your fingers wrap around his. You guide his hand to the waistband of your pants, his fingers just barely beneath the fabric, and Nanami groans eagerly.
“Have me,” you whisper, whimpering quietly when Nanami runs his tongue along that spot. “I want you to.”
Nanami’s nostrils flare, the rapid rhythm of your pulse pounding beneath his tongue sending him into overdrive. If he’s being honest, this is his favorite part. Perhaps he gets off on the small bit of fear you exude just before this. He can’t help it. It’s instinct for him.
His hand slips between your bodies, into your pants as you loop your both arms around his neck. The feeling of your dripping core makes his cock throb within the confine of his own pants. But he can take care of that later. Right now, he only sees (and hears, and smells) you. He inhales deeply once more, kissing along your jaw once more until he reaches your lips. His lips slot against yours, needy and hungry until he has to force himself to break away in case he loses control again. He’s back at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, right where your pulse beats wildly beneath your skin.
“It may hurt,” he warns, but it’s only to make himself feel better, really. You’re aware of the pain, having experienced it many times before. And still, even with the bit of pleasure it gives him, Nanami feels a little guilty about it.
“It’s okay. I can take it,” you assure him softly.
Of course you can, his sweet love. You would let Nanami do this time and time again if he asked, would you? And this is what Nanami remembers. How pliant you become when he’s got you like this. So eager to give him whatever he asks for.
How will he live without you?
Nanami groans, low and rough against your neck, murmuring about how much he’ll miss you, how he loves you, how you’re so perfect for him and he’d rather die than to have another take your spot in his world. All the romantic words he’s been hoping to say fall from his lips, and he can hear from the way your heart drums against your ribcage that you’re feeling the effects of his words. He means every one of them, he hopes you know.
His lips brush against your skin, presses one last, sweet kiss to the spot, murmuring, “I love you,” while his fingers run through your slick folds. Your legs tremble as Nanami’s rough fingers rub tight and slow circles on your clit. Your hands have found his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his shirt as you hang on. Every curse and moan from your lips is music to Nanami’s ears, only making him harder, more desperate to hear you make more of those noises.
He keeps his ministrations going, slipping forward until he has a single finger positioned at your entrance. He pushes in gently, just barely enough to garner a reaction, but your mouth still falls open with a soft gasp.
“So tight, so sensitive still,” he speaks, muffled against your neck.
Nanami’s tongue runs along your pulse, mouth opening slightly so that his lips lift and pull back. His canines push forward from his gums, exposing the long set of sharp fangs that have been screaming to be let loose. The relief he feels at finally being able to freely expose the long canines has Nanami letting out a strangled groan, murmuring an “I love you” just one more time before he’s slowly sinking his fangs into you at the exact moment he adds a finger to your entrance, pushing in and stretching your walls. His eyes roll to the back of head immediately, the thick and warm liquid filling his mouth, and he consumes everything you’re willing to offer.
It’s no wonder Nanami felt the need to follow you from the moment you’d left him. There is something completely addicting about you, something that doesn’t simply satisfy his hunger and cravings, but so much more.
Your teeth bite down on your lip, an attempt to not scream at the sharp pain. Your hands squeeze hard, the discomfort running through your entire body. And Nanami squeezes you, too, one hand holding onto your waist for dear life, for something that will tether him to this moment here and now with you. Because he doesn’t want to lose control, doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already is.
Your eyes are closed tight, mind reeling with the intense pain and ecstasy you’re feeling while Nanami drains you, simultaneously pumping his fingers into you, and you quickly find yourself overcome with pleasure. Your quiet gasps and moans of pain turn to quiet gasps and moans of bliss, and the iron grip you had on Nanami eases.
He drinks from you like he hasn’t fed in days, and it has your head spinning, the quick depletion of your blood making your legs shake. It doesn’t help that Nanami’s fingers are picking up speed, reaching the place that makes you whine and beg for more, the lewd sound of your wetness mixed with both your muffled moans filling the space of this disgusting alley.
You haven’t fucked anyone since you left him all those months ago, and now you’re remembering why.
There’s not much Nanami needs to do to quickly have you unraveling beneath him. Be it his mouth, his hands, his cock, he knows exactly what to do to make you come undone. You’re not shocked at all when Nanami presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing delicious circles on it, and your walls squeeze down on his thick fingers just as he bites down on your neck a little harder. Then he messily breaks his hold on you with a sharp intake of breath, standing tall and looming over your form so he can have a front row seat to your orgasm crashing over you suddenly.
Your lips fall open, a loud cry threatening to burst from your chest. But Nanami’s lips find yours, silencing you when his tongue immediately enters your mouth so that you can taste yourself on him. You moan, the taste of metallic heavy between you as you ride out your high on Nanami’s thick fingers.
You’re like this for a while, kissing lazily as Nanami pumps into you. When you’ve finally come down from your high, Nanami slips out of you easily, not wasting any time before he’s putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean. You can just make out the dried blood staining around his mouth and his chin, and you wonder if you share a similar look.
It’s strange to taste your own blood, you’ve always thought so, but it’s not bad. Not when it’s Nanami you’re sharing it with. Not when it’s with someone you love.
You gaze up at the man you feel you can’t live without, but know you must in order to truly find yourself, your happiness, and your heart races. How could you have ever thought you’d be able to live a normal life after leaving him? How could you have given up this love you strongly share? Could you truly leave him here alone for the next few years?
You don’t have the answers, but you know you can’t go back on what you’ve planned for your future. You need this, and he knows it. But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this bit of time you have together. You were stupid to think you could cut and run. You don’t want to be away from him.
“Can we take this back to your place?” You whisper, pulling Nanami down for another kiss, softer this time, teasing almost. You press a palm to his groin where you feel his desire for you, and Nanami grunts at your touch. “I want to spend every second with you before I go.”
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𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 [e.williams]
pairing ellie williams x fem!reader (exes to lovers)
synopsis when you father hires your ex to be his farmhand, you're left with less and less self control as the days pass, always keeping an eye on the aurburn-haired girl that had stolen your heart years ago
warnings kinda shitty pacing bc i was rushing to get this out, ooc!ellie (maybe idk), not edited very well, heavy kissing, mentions of alcohol
wc 2.7k
note i've had this in the works for over a year now and was originally supposed to publish this on my old blog but oh well...anyway alexa play 'save a horse (ride a cowboy)' by big & rich
the weather was unforgiving.
scorching sun rays beat down on the farm, baking the golden dead grass and drying out the small creek on the outskirts of the perimeter. it was rather unusual for a jackson summer. and it did nothing but inflate your attraction toward the woman who currently hauled large hay bales into the barn.
dressed in a pair of low-rise jorts, her typical high-top converse, and a cream wife-beater, ellie wiped sweat from her forehead with a scowl, face twisted in the bright light. the rise of her arm lifted her shirt, exposing a sliver of the toned abdomen she hid most days. as she caught your eye, spotting you peeking at her from behind the book you were trying to busy yourself with, she sent a cheeky smile, enjoying the way you scurried to cover your face with the novel.
you preoccupied yourself on the back porch, trying and failing to focus on the words that swam on the page of your book. the wicket lounge chair was stiff and the towel under you itched your back, rubbing against the skin that wasn’t covered by the skimpy bikini you had chosen to wear in favor of the hot weather. yet it wasn’t the weather that made you flush and squirm restlessly, your focus settled elsewhere.
“what’re you readin’?”
brows shooting to your hairline, you glanced up at ellie, who had approached without you realizing.
she licked her chapped lips in anticipation, silhouette blocking out the sun.
shaking your head, you sat up straight. “nothing good, to be honest,” you said, avoiding her heavy gaze by flipping the novel over and pretending to look over the back.
she nodded, peeling off the carhartt gloves she wore. reaching for the iced lemonade on the small table next to you, she said before drinking, “so then it’s not one of the smutty books that you enjoy. got it.”
you coughed at her words, choking on your own saliva with widened eyes. perhaps i misheard her, you thought immediately, swallowing down more sputters and croaking out a rough, “what?”
ellie peered at you with a look of amusement. she was certain she had been clear, but that didn’t stop her from repeating her point. “the books you like to read. they’re all just smut. is this one not?”
heart thumping against your ribcage, you gulped. “no.”
even to you it sounded like a shitty lie.
“‘no’…?” she drawled, eyebrows raising with skepticism.
“they’re not all smut, ellie,” you told her defensively, face scrunching as you stiffened on the chair.
the woman in front of you looked mildly unconvinced, but she shrugged regardless. “whatever you say, babe.”
growing uninterested in the novel you were reading thanks to ellie, you set it on the small table beside the chair and watched the woman as she chugged the rest of her drink. “don’t you think it’s a little…inappropriate to call me that?”
ellie set down her glass, fisting her gloves in a hand before crossing her arms above her chest. for a split second you could see a glimpse of the woman you used to call your girlfriend. that is until she fucked you over and confessed that she thought she had feelings to dina. now look at her—single and working as a farmhand on your father’s farm. call it karma or fate, you didn’t know, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like her reappearance in your life.
“no,” she started, her eyes gleaming with defiance, “i don’t think it’s inappropriate. i call everyone that.”
there was no hiding the clear confusion on your face as you sat up and said, “no, you definitely don’t. pet names were never really your thing, els.”
“well, maybe i’ve changed. we haven’t seen each other in awhile, you know. a lot can happen.” her words sounded indolent, showing no effort to be convincing.
scoffing, you rolled your eyes and swung your legs over the edge of the chair. “whatever. i’m going inside, it’s too hot out here.”
“you going to the party tonight?” ellie asked abruptly, her indifferent facade shedding like old skin. “the one being held in the dancehall?”
you gripped the edge of the furniture, angling your head to look up at her. she wants me to go, you realized quickly. that desperate expression of hers made it quite obvious. “of course i’m going.”
it wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth. you hadn’t intended on going until she said something.
at your response, she nodded, beginning to put her gloves back on. “i guess i’ll see you there then.”
“i suppose so.”
she arrived at your door at 7 p.m. sharp.
and, hell, she looked sharp.
the way her brown button up-flannel molded perfectly with her lean figure, faded jeans accentuating the acute curve of her hips, the stressed ends brushing against the dark brown of her cowboy boots. you were practically drooling at her exposed forearms, long sleeves rolled to her elbows. and, of course, the cherry on top had to be the black cowboy hat decorating the crown of her head, shading her face from the sinking sun behind her.
you mentally cursed your father for hiring ellie williams.
“what’re you doing here?” you asked keenly, adjusting your stance in the doorway.
she looked at you as if you had said something in another language, trying (and failing) to not look down at the small top and pajama shorts you wore . “i’m here to pick you up. figured you wouldn’t want to go to the party alone.”
you stared at her for a moment. she was right, of course. parties had never really been your idea of fun. the only time you ever went was when one of your friends could talk you into going. “come in, then. i need to finish getting dressed; shouldn’t take too long.”
ellie stepped inside cautiously, gingerly removing her hat and placing it on a nearby hook, like she was waiting for you to change your mind about the whole thing. but you didn’t, only shutting the door behind her and gesturing for her to follow you up the steps and into your bedroom. somewhere she had been oh-so-many times before the breakup.
the arid air was filled with tension, so thick that a knife would have to roughly saw its way through just to slice it.
you played off your uncomfort by sitting at your vanity calmly (definitely not forgetting that ellie had built this piece of furniture for you as a present for a past birthday), and grabbed the already-open tinted lip balm. the tin was cool in your palm as you dipped your finger in and then applied the sweet salve to your puckered mouth.
ellie watched from afar, unsure of where she should be as she waited, not wanting to break a boundary. if there even were boundaries to be broken.
she watched you diligently, eyes never leaving your mouth. she couldn’t help but gulp when you turned to her expectantly, asking her, “do i look fine?”
“you look as party-ready as you’ll ever be.” what she really wanted to say was, you look better than ‘fine.’ you always have, though she held her tongue reluctantly.
you gave her a curt nod, somewhat disappointed by her dry-ass remark. whatever. you’d mess with her later, after you’ve had a few drinks perhaps.
so, dropping the lip product into a drawer, you stood, pushing the stool back under the vanity before walking over to your wardrobe. the faded red wood had once gleamed when golden hour would come around, but with time its shine had dulled and the cabinet doors squeaked.
with a heavy breath, you sighed and pulled the round handles, exposing a plethora of clothes. as your eyes scanned your dresses, an idea sparked in your mind. you looked over your shoulder, finding ellie’s neutral gaze. “come pick out something for me to wear.”
her eyebrows flickered upward, slightly startled by your request. “but wouldn’t that be-”
“be what?” you interrupted, feigning a confused expression. “i’m just asking you to pick out a dress for me.”
the corners of ellie’s mouth turned south, and you ignored her when she muttered, “you didn’t ask, you demanded.”
you stepped out of her way, giving her the space to go through her options. however you didn’t miss the way she licked her lips, once again glancing at your pajama-clad figure before turning her attention to the open wardrobe.
the room was quiet, energy shifting ever so slightly from awkward to familiar. tension changing into something a little more…enticing as you waited for her decision regarding your outfit.
there was no hiding your smile when she pulled out a plain black mini dress with thin spaghetti straps, its neckline low. ellie had fucked you in that dress way too many times to count; it aroused something low in your stomach.
“good choice,” you teased, grabbing the article of clothing from her.
her expression heeded no hint as to what she was feeling, but with many years spent by her side, you had some idea of her internal gay panic. she could only hide it so well around the people who knew her best.
you placed the dress on your bed before dropping your pajama shorts to the floor, provoking a sharp inhale from the auburn-haired woman behind you.
“what the hell?!” ellie immediately seethed, her eyes averting your body as she spun to face your wardrobe.
you scoffed before ridding yourself of your shirt as well, suddenly feeling even more pleased with yourself for not wearing a bralette. “oh please, you’ve seen my body too many times to count.” rolling your eyes, you grabbed the dress and slipped it on, thankful for the absent zipper that was often prominent in similar pieces.
ellie eventually gave in and turned around, vaguely relieved to see that you now had something covering your body. she was unsure of what she would have done had you stayed undressed for an extended amount of time, her hands itching to run their familiar course on your bare figure.
“are you done staring?” you asked her ardently, adjusting the fabric of the dress as you narrowed your gaze at her.
“yes.” her answer was clipped, yet you didn’t say anything further. she was determined to avoid your jarring gaze.
you raised your chin slightly, observing her for a split second. her hands fisted and flexed by her sides, although she was definitely trying to hide it. she was dying for makeup sex just as you were. however there was no way you were going to let her know that, at least not right now. you wanted to manage to get out of the house first: wanted to see if her nerves would die out and be replaced with the cockiness she sported like armor.
“let’s go then,” you finally said, “don’t want to keep people waiting.”
ellie nodded curtly, making no fuss as she followed you out of the room and down the flight of stairs, her boots clacking with each step.
when you reached the bottom, you reached for your own set of boots by the door, their cream color worn with each wear. you pulled them on as ellie grabbed her hat, opened the door for you, and dramatically held her arm out.
unable to hide an amused grin, you linked your elbow with hers, letting her guide you out of the house and to shimmer, who grazed on a plot of grass by the front porch. as ellie untied the reins and pulled herself up, you watched the way her body moved fluidly and adjusted her person on the western-style saddle.
she offered her hand, lips pulling into a charming smile. “come on, sweet girl.”
trying to suppress your grin, you grabbed her hand and placed your foot in a stirrup, a little too eager for the feel of ellie’s strong back against your front.
“just sit and look pretty, i’ll be right back.”
ellie had left to go grab drinks from the bar almost the second the two of you had entered the dancehall. and you were thankful, unsure that you’d be able to keep up your teasing facade without a little bit of something in your system.
when you spotted her, two red cups in hand, you exhaled heavily, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking your drink. you didn’t waste any time before downing the brown liquid that burned all the way down your throat.
“hey, take it easy, baby,” ellie remarked, concern etching her features. she eased the cup from your hands, her eyebrows furrowed with faint worry. “there’s plenty of time to get drunk; no need to rush.”
as you swallowed the last bit of booze-flavored saliva on your tongue, you shifted ineptly. there went your attempt to spur your courage. great.
“ellie,” you said cautiously, eyes glued to the cluster of bodies on the dance floor and trying to ignore the way your breath was growing uneven. you toyed with the locket around your neck, mustering what bravery you had hidden.
“yes?”
“i think coming here, together, was a bad idea.”
your words had struck something in the woman next to you, and you watched from your peripheral as she tried to understand your statement. ellie looked wounded. a simple ‘why?’ was all she could manage to convene, the cups in her hands crinkling ever so slightly.
gaze finally sliding to meet hers, you said, “because all i’ve wanted to do since you showed up at my doorstep was kiss you.”
there was no telling where you had gotten the balls to say something so blunt, but boy did it feel good. you had missed ellie a lot, and you somehow managed to miss her even more the day your father had hired her as his farmhand. maybe it was because, while she had appeared in your life once more (after nearly a year of her staying in jackson), she wasn’t in your life; you were lucky if a conversation flowed between your awkward persons, still trying to make out what you were to one another.
“fuck,” ellie drawled, turning her back to the crowd. she shoved the drinks onto a nearby table, her stature tense. “you can’t just say things like that.”
you bit the inside of your cheek, moving closer to her. “why not?” your voice was unintentionally low.
ellie’s eyes, blazing like green fire, found yours. she turned to face you, hot breath mingling with yours as you exhaled in anticipation of her words.
“because it makes me want to do more than just kiss you.”
without thinking, you grabbed the front two belt loops of her jeans, not wasting a moment to second guess anything, and pulled her front against yours, lips instantly crashing with hers. as you fervently kissed ellie, her hands settling on your love handles, you hummed in satisfaction. this is exactly what you wanted—and you had wanted it from the moment she started working on your family’s farm.
ellie’s mouth moved against yours, just as desperate as you felt. when she pulled away, her breath heavy, she muttered, “let’s take this somewhere else.”
you nodded, dazedly staring at her lips before she grabbed your hand and turned, leading you both through the maze of people. your thoughts were muddled in your mind, too entranced by the situation to notice that she had led you, hurriedly at that, to the bathroom. she pushed open the door, ushering you inside, with a hand on the curve of your spine.
before you could even utter a word, some chippy remark you’d already forgotten, ellie was on you.
“was this your plan all along?” she asked, her breath fanning over the skin of your jawline, body caging you against the counter of the sink. “to mess with me until i snapped and gave in?”
swallowing thickly, consumed by the feeling of ellie’s hands and mouth, you let out a strained whine. your fingers found the strands of hair at her nape, tugging as if to answer her question. yes, obviously.
a guttural sound left her throat at your wordless response, her fingers trailing down, searching for the place she knew you wanted her most. but just as she dipped her hand under the hem of your panties, your skin hot under her touch, she leaned in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
“you’re going to have to earn whatever it is you want.”
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#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#the last of us part 2#tlou2#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou#tlou x reader#ellie williams x f!reader#i am never going to get over her i fear#ellie williams my beloved
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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.
PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words
SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing
RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33
i. the unknown
satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.
his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice.
you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone.
"who's the rookie?"
satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes.
it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei.
he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care.
"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.
satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons."
suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit."
the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around.
suguru is the first to interrupt the peace.
"maybe she's strong?"
"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities."
ii. routine
"can i ask you guys a question?"
a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching.
"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile.
"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue.
"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?"
satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another.
"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.
"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could.
you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him.
the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.
"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness."
after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.
"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him.
"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it.
"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."
the conversation ends there.
shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.
shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you.
a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment.
but you can't.
iii. halcyon
"hey suguru?"
"hm?"
"how come you always do your hair the same way?"
suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.
"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.
"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."
"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.
"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"
he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."
you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"
he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.
"how should i style it then, hotshot?"
his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."
he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.
"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"
suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"
you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."
he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.
"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.
"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.
"i like yours."
you blink. "mine?"
"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."
something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.
"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."
"do mine like that," he says quickly.
once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"
"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.
"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.
"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."
"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.
iv. fragility
"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—"
"—so that makes you her family then."
suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles.
"…yes."
you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat.
"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him.
"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims.
"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?"
satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe."
you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?"
he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably.
"we'll do things the way she wants us to."
it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him.
that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?
your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge.
v. longing
riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen.
satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.
you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko.
"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.
"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you.
"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?"
suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh.
"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot."
you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest.
your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him.
the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face.
and in that moment, nothing can be ruined.
"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands.
"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."
his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?"
he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always."
"me too."
he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle.
"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream.
you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru."
he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!"
"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty."
he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours."
"mine?" you chuckle.
"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room."
"oh? and why's that?"
suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home."
you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest.
"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room."
"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.
"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?"
"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!"
suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist.
"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears.
vi. ice bath
shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.
the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you.
"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!"
you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.
you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.
suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.
now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape.
shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait:
where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you?
you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell.
"shoko?"
it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you.
"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before.
vii. acid rain
the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices.
"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"
you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively.
"let's get out of here, guys."
your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing.
satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut.
you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?
"do you want to…kill them all?"
the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows.
"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.
you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man.
you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.
satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him.
"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry.
you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips.
"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?"
"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers."
satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both.
you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind.
"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that."
viii. fever dreams
satoru lies next to you.
a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time.
tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway.
it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while.
his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.
you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you.
"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies.
"i know."
ix. doubt
satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.
not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks.
"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!"
there's an odd note of glee in his voice.
"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around."
he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!"
your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak.
"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?"
there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"
a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?"
"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"
"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all."
x. shadow
satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.
you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"
"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.
"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."
your head is spinning.
"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"
"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.
"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."
you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"
satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.
"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."
you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.
"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"
shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.
god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.
"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.
"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.
"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"
a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."
you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.
"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"
you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.
his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"
his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."
xi. hellfire
you hear suguru before you see him.
his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.
you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.
or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.
it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.
you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.
now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.
suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.
you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.
"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"
your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.
you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.
"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.
he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"
"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"
"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."
you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.
"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.
"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.
"he went back to the dorms."
"okay."
you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.
the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.
haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.
not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.
you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"
his voice sounds far away. "hm?"
"are you okay?"
he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."
"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."
you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.
"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.
but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.
haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.
"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"
his voice tickles your ears.
"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?"
hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.
suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.
you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.
"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"
"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."
something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.
you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense.
you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.
but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.
xii. split
he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it.
you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself.
but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse.
that's what everything came down to, right? curses.
suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one.
"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye.
"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.
but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression.
"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now.
"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome."
you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.
you don't know what to say to him now.
"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?"
"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap.
"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"
the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders.
"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true."
your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"
suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?"
anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please."
suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again.
"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true."
"suguru—"
"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it."
you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully."
a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…
"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—"
"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…"
he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?"
you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot."
you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."
he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"
you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either.
he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing.
nobody has laughed in a while now.
you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him.
he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.
"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand."
his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him.
"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left."
a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.
"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions."
you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost.
"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…"
go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair.
"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel.
"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then."
"better late than never, right?"
the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death.
his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls.
"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head.
"'m not crying."
suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.
he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more.
he doesn't.
"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"
"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…"
he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."
he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears.
you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go.
you accept your fate then and there.
you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.
he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.
xiii. sanctify
satoru's at your door again.
you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable.
"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read:
YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.
underneath it, satoru had scrawled:
hotshot failing class now huh? :P
and shoko had added:
both of you stfu you're failing too
you had drawn a heart next to her name.
"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"
satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away.
"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off."
he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.
a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades.
"want help?"
"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed.
"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful.
"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…"
you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist.
"…are all of suguru's things."
there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there.
"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that."
satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face.
"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble.
"guess not."
you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.
you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward.
a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale.
"let's get started then, hotshot."
he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either.
but it's enough for the two of you.
"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.
"so do you."
"i am," you admit honestly.
"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here."
"i know," you answer. you always are.
nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more.
you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.
both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections.
you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up.
"hey."
you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention.
"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind."
you frown. "what are you talking about?"
"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that."
you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?"
satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?"
you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.
"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips.
"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."
xiv. idyll
it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.
tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.
"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.
"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."
"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."
"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."
"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"
you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."
satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"
"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.
"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.
"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."
satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."
he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.
so you don't say anything either.
the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.
when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"
you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."
"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."
"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."
"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."
you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."
satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"
you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"
your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.
he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"
your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"
satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."
he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."
he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.
"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.
his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."
"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.
then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."
everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.
you can't help but smile. "always."
you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.
the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.
he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.
xv. retribution
the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.
he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.
and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.
except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.
he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.
the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.
suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.
you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.
it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.
you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.
a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"
you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"
"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"
your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.
"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"
he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"
there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.
"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.
it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.
his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."
you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.
he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.
you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.
but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?
you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"
he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."
"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.
"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"
he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.
another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.
and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.
he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.
when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.
"you're late, satoru."
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#satosugu x reader#gojo x reader x geto#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk x reader#jjk angst#gojo x reader#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#satoru gojo x reader#geto suguru x you#stsg x reader#satosugu x you#gojo x you#geto x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojou satoru x reader#getou suguru x reader#jjk#jjk x you#geto fluff#gojo fluff#geto angst#gojo angst#suguru x reader
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#so then 5easons isn’t ambiguously canon anymore#i wonder if i could write a 4easons (pronounced like four-zənz) or something that fits with this narrative#really s2 would stay mostly the same#s3 too#it’s just the magic system introduced in s3 and the s1 unfinished business crossing over and then the plots of s4 and 5#maybe… maybe the retcon could stay and maybe even most of s4 could stay#but i’d have to change the boys’ final fate#in 5easons julie *is* essentially the chosen one; maybe her lifer bond with the boys is so strong that they essentially come back#mass and matter would be tough to figure out scientifically but when has the show ever actually cared about that?#maybe if s4 stays the same or mostly the same except for beloved main characters#OH OOH OR if the ghosts are flocking to jatp in s4 for help in crossing over OR coming back#which would mean that caleb and fineas also have that choice? maybe? how that would work for bad people i don’t exactly know like is it#reincarnation where they just come back as they are or is it rebirth? bc we want the first for the phantoms but not for fineas#maybe - maybe ghosts who died before their intended time get a second chance at life in the modern day but ghosts who died when they were#meant to (who probably don’t have any unfinished business to begin with) or ghosts who have broken some afterlife law like fineas has don’t#get that choice and have to just cross over to the next side.#so if s4 stays the same then except that certain people are going to be coming back to physical life again#we could see the main cast be observing this happening with some of the hgc ghosts or whoever else#and all the leveling up from s1 thru 3 stay present for nick and the whole cast who were there for the hgc fight#then i could see either 1) luke and reggie cross back over and willex stay ghosts but don’t cross over or#2) they all four come back and maybe even people like loranne too and jatp the band lives hea going on tour and stuff after graduation#in the first case the whole cast would still be able to see willex (unless- what if luke and reggie cant anymore for added ✨angst✨ jk) and#alex wouldn’t have to be anxious about ghost stuff anymore and he could just be with willie forever bc i think willie prefers being a ghost#at this point. in the second case there wouldn’t be this weird thing where alex is the only phantom who poofs in at the beginning of shows#ok good brainstorming session you guys i think i’ve got canon compliant 5easons figured out now thanks for the help#5easons#tmp writes#this post is about kenny’s juke hea tweet btw#our boy kenny o
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Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]
In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.
Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!
TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death
[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]
He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men.
Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:
"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."
The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him.
No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood.
He has become a beast.
And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose.
That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle.
"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."
You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle.
"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin.
"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink.
The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.
Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating.
The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room.
Tonight shall be a feast.
The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe.
His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.
You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...
No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be?
The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution.
The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears.
There you are.
Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.
"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.
"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.
"You may check on her if you so desire, however..."
He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached.
"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."
You can only stare.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."
"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion.
He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.
"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"
"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-"
You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony.
"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up.
Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere fic#yandere imagines#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster x reader#werewolf x reader#yandere werewolf#female reader#gender neutral reader#yandere horror#horror x reader#yandere oc#romanian folklore#daos
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guard dog
bi-han/reader
summary: your husband doesn’t like when other men flirt with you.
tags: established relationship, fluff, protective! bi-han, sunshine/moody duo bc i live for this
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.❅.* :☆゚. ───
“I’m telling you,” Johnny runs a hand through chestnut hair. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous! You could seriously be a model!” He gushes, giving a grin to you. You chuckle softly, waving him off. “I dunno about that, but thank you.” You respond calmly. A chill washes over the two of you, cold fingers curling into your waist. Bi-Han, your husband, glares at Johnny over your shoulder. “Hey, man- convince your wife to become a model for me.” The actor chuckles. “I wanna see her on Vogue!”
Bi-Han growls softly, pulling you a little closer. “She’s off-limits, Cage.” He grumbles. You simply laugh, patting your husband’s strong forearm. “Relax, hun. It’s fine.” You assure him. Bi-Han gives Johnny a wary look, but when he looks at you, that coldness melts. “Come. We should start preparations for our evening early.” He nudges your side gently, guiding you away from Cage. The ninja gives Johnny a pointed glare over his shoulder, a silent warning to back off from his wife. Johnny snorts with amusement, shaking his head as he chuckles.
—
Sitting at his side, like always, you put your fork down gently, finishing with your meal. Dinner was always nice. The atmosphere was always so calm, a hint of normalcy to this crazy life your lover’s dragged you into. A foot nudges yours beneath the table, and you look up. Raiden gives a shy smile, and you smile back. “How have you been, my lady?” He asks politely. “Well. How about you?” Your response has your husband glancing to you, then to Raiden.
Bi-Han grips his glass, raising it to his lips to sip his water. His brown eyes scan over Raiden, who keeps talking to you. What are his motives..? Bi-Han thinks to himself. Clearing his throat, his fingers thread through yours, squeezing gently; just to bring your attention to him a little. Smiling at your lover, you squeeze back, warm palm sitting in his. Bi-Han smiles slightly at you, a rare sight. You return to your conversation with Raiden, and as Bi-Han listens, he figures out that the young man is just being friendly. It’s nothing to work himself up over, Raiden isn’t like Cage. Speaking of… his eyes scan across the table, spotting Johnny flirting with someone else. Rolling his eyes, Bi-Han returns to his meal, not letting go of your hand.
—
Reading is a calming activity. Bi-Han is busy training across the yard, you’ve chosen to sit beneath a tree, book in hand. It’s idyllic, soothing. You hear boots crunching on leaves, approaching you. “Hello.” A voice greets, and you look up. Tomas, always nice company. “Tomas,” you smile in greeting, letting him sit beside you. “How’s my brother been treating you? Good?” Tomas asks softly, smiling back. His mask is down around his neck, so you can see his face.
“Of course.” You nod. “That’s good,” your friend responds, glancing to the book you hold. “Catching up on your reading?” Tomas chuckles, still smiling at you. “Finally, yes.” You share his soft laugh. “I want to ask… would you accompany me to lunch tomorrow?” He asks, leaning a little closer. Thinking nothing of his offer, you nod. “Of course. I’d love to.” You reply, smiling at him. “Great,” Tomas smiles back. “I think you deserve a better man than my brother… he can be really cold.” He murmurs, fingers moving up to gently touch your cheek. You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “Nonsense, Tomas. Bi-Han treats me well.” You respond to him, letting him touch you.
Boots storm over, a rough hand snatching Tomas harshly, tugging him up and slamming him to the tree. “Tomas-“ Bi-Han growls, not appreciating his adoptive brother’s attempts at wiping his wife. “Relax.” Tomas responds smoothly, resting a hand on his brother’s strong forearm. “Just offering lunch.” He smirks at his brother. Tomas has always been mischievous, he loves getting under his brothers’ skin. Eyes filled with anger, Bi-Han lands a harsh punch to Tomas’ jaw. “Bi-Han..!” your eyes widen, getting up to grab your husband’s arm before he could hit his brother again. “Unhand me.” Bi-Han growls, but he doesn’t tug against you, letting you pull him away from Tomas. “No- stop it. You can’t just punch him!” You frown, squeezing your husband’s arm. He scowls, frost biting at his fingers, ready to hurt Tomas again. “Leave my wife alone.” He commands, dismissing his little brother.
Sighing, you let go of Bi-Han’s arm, watching Tomas chuckle and leave. “Bi-Han.” You speak, but he cuts you off. “Don’t,” he growls, pulling you to his chest. “You’re mine. No more flirting with him.” The tall man scowls. “I wasn’t-“ he grasps your jaw, gently, tilting your head to steal a kiss to silence you. “I saw him touching you. I know he thinks I’m not enough for you,” Bi-Han grumbles, fingers gently squeezing your cheeks. “You are my wife. I am the one who married you. I don’t appreciate him thinking he can steal you away from me…” he whispers, kissing you again. “No one’s stealing me,” you giggle softly, shaking your head. “I’m yours.” You add on, hands moving to rest on his sides. Bi-Han hums, satisfied with your response. “Good. I won’t let any man flirt with you.” He murmurs, squeezing you close to the flat plane of his chest. “Mhm. I know.” You chuckle, letting his forehead rest to yours.
#mk1 2023#mk1 x reader#bi-han x reader#bi han#bi-han#bi han x reader#bi han sub zero#bi han x you#| kenshiluvr
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