#Forget the past and you'll lose both eyes

[poguehearted77]

Just Another Cliché

Summary: Rafe has been asking to take you out for years and you always shoot him down, but after a particularly bad day, you decide things can't get much worse.

<<Here's some fluffy angst for those who need it>>

Shitty was an understatement for the day you had. This day will go down in history as the worst day any soul has ever lived through.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The murmur is bitter on your tongue as you stuff your hands deeper into your warm pockets. The breath of your words were visible in the crisp winter air as you were about to pass by Rafe Cameron who waited patiently outside of your apartment building with a single rose just like he always did.

Since your senior year of high school, every year on the fourteenth of February, he would wait outside your complex, asking you out, then you say no, then he goes home. That's the tradition.

Well, technically you never said no. You'd always make up some excuse. 'I don't have time for a relationship right now' or 'Now's a bad time' are just a few of the examples you've used over the last five years.

It's not that there was anything wrong with him. You actually did find him attractive. Aside from the sketchy reputation he had going for him back in high school, he was still a relatively nice guy.

You just didn't have the time for a relationship, or at least you didn't before.

A small smile forms on his face as he sees you, already knowing what to expect. Another excuse like "Fine," yup, just as he thought- Wait.

"Say that again?" His head shakes in disbelief, blue eyes bulging slightly. Your shoulders shrug under your heavy-duty winter jacket. "My car was towed, then I lost my job, so why not lose my dignity too? Let's go out." You say and his heart begins to bounce off the confines of his ribs.

Not sure if it was the frosty air nipping at his cheeks or his lifetime wish finally unwrapping before his eyes, his cheeks flushed and he blinked a few times. "You won't regret this, I promise." he holds out the rose for you to take, and you finally do. For the first time in five years. You bite back a scoff, not in the mood for empty promises.

"Why haven't you given up yet?" You ask and now he places his hands in his pockets as a chilling breeze sweeps past you. He's rocking back on his heels slightly, "Life's too short to give up." The tiny smile on his face does make you scoff this time but he moves past it, "I'll text you later," is the last thing he says before he walks off.

You look down at the rose, then at his shrinking figure as he heads for the distance. A little pep in his step and you shook your head, immediately regretting your decision.

Great, this is exactly what you needed, another cliché.

-

Just another cliché is exactly what it was. On the lowest day of your life, you finally gave Rafe a chance. Of course, he changes your life in ways you couldn't imagine and leaves you with a dead weight of regret for not giving in sooner.

Your first date wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was fun. The two of you were inexperienced skaters failing to skate in the middle of the town square during the heart of winter. With festive lights outlining the rink where you laughed every time one of you fell.

There was even a point in time when you'd both embraced the cold connection with the ice floor and had a deep conversation on the sidelines, watching the other skaters circle the rink.

"Why me?" The question slips out before you can catch it and he licks his lips. He anticipated the query would arise eventually. "You remember that party Hailey Vanderbilt threw back in senior year?"

You hum with a nod, that was a party you'll never forget. Pool toys ended up in the trees, broken windows, jello in the hot tub, fights in the front yard and gambling in the back. "You and a few of the girls were playing truth or dare and they had dared you to start a rumour that I'd shaved my head because my family had joined some cult or some shit."

It took you a second, but the memory came back to you. "You don't know this, but I was fucking wasted behind the couch, but I'll never forget the way you stood up for me to them and refused to do it, and I dunno, I jus' think that was really cool of you." His head turns to you, his gaze softening when he looks at you.

At that moment, you felt the butterflies flap around in your stomach for the first time. He clears his throat, expression becoming more sombre as he continues. "My mom," He starts, taking a difficult swallow to get the words out.

"She was really sick. I got caught up with the wrong crowd to deal with it. Doing anything people said would get me distracted, even for a little, but she got worse and me being high every day didn't help so I quit. Her chemo was taking everything from her and eventually, she just shaved it off, she hated looking in the mirror and it killed me."

Your chest tightened at the story, having a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, "So when you shaved your head..." You trail off and Rafe nods along, turning away from you as a stray tear falls. "It was for her. You sticking up for me meant so much more than you know."

So there you both sat, on the ice with your backs against the wall in silence while the faint Christmas music chimed in the background. The date had taken a sad turn but you're glad it did, it sparked the beginning of your forever-evolving bond.

That was only the first date of many. Dozens and dozens of dates had flown past you and with each one you hated yourself a little more for letting him stand outside of your complex for five years rather than invite him inside.

"This is a nice place." He compliments as he takes a look around before settling himself on the couch with you beside him. "Thanks, it used to be a lot nicer when I could afford it. Had to sell some stuff to keep it after I lost my job."

He chuckles, "That explains why we're facing a blank wall and no television." and you pinch him. "Sacrifices had to be made. Who needs a TV anyways when there's so many other things we could do to keep ourselves busy." Your wandering hand gently runs down his firm thigh and you can feel the muscles in his leg tighten.

This was unchartered territory for you. You'd been dating for almost three months now and have never been intimate in that way, but Rafe knew the kind of person you were. A perfectionist, you need to be sure of everything before you try it.

Based on how fervently you were currently kissing along the length of his neck he could assume he had a pretty good idea of where your head was at. "Baby, baby--" He struggles to keep you at bay so he can lock eyes with you. "Are you sure about this? We don't have-" You silence him with the passionate attack of your lips against his.

Nearly tackling him onto his back, your hips straddling his as you demonstrated your certainty to him.

-

The months went on and sleepovers became more frequent. Even when Rafe had that tired look in his eye which was more often these days, you kept him up with your bright eyes and wide smile as you explained to him the newest conspiracy that intrigued you.

He tried his best to listen to what you were saying but he'd often lose himself in the labyrinth of his own mind. You were just so cute when you were talking about what you were passionate about. Especially when you wore the glasses you cursed so much, opting for contacts during the day.

"Why don't you wear your glasses more often?" He asks and you frown, "Rafee, did you hear anything I just said?" He nods, "Of course I did. I heard every last word.... up until about five minutes ago." You whine and he hugs you tight as an apology, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You couldn't stay mad at him. That was proven time and time again when even your biggest fights would be resolved within 24 hours. Rafe insisted on talking things out, no matter how hurt the both of you may feel. He never wanted to go to sleep without making things right. "Life's too short," He would say.

You both had your shortcomings, but that goes without saying. Rafe was short-tempered and you were stubborn, a bad combination for an opinionated conversation. Things can quickly spiral out of control but when it came to apologies, Rafe outdid you every time. Flowers, or a small gift to show his feelings.

Even now, as Rafe leant against your kitchen island as you transferred the flowers he'd gifted you 'just because'. A weak smile graced his lips as he noted the way you did everything with such intensity, putting your all into everything you did.

Leaning forward onto his crossed forearms he watches you. "You're staring, babe." You say and he can only hum. "Can't help it. I like what I see," His words elicit a soft warmth to radiate in your chest.

"I love you, y'know that?" You're startled as you feel his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. "You tell me only every day, Rafe." He comes down to peck your cheek before you're rotating in his hold to face him. "But I love you too." You're unable to contain your smile as you say it.

It wasn't the first time but every time the words left your mouth, it gave you a little bubbly feeling. Security blossomed within you anytime your eyes grazed over his features.

"Let's go out tonight, yeah? Let's go dancing." Rafe declares without thinking and you laugh, tilting your head to look at the time over the stove. "It's almost midnight, nothing's open at this hour." You reason, but he doesn't back down.

Holding you by the hand, he twirls you. "Not a problem, we'll just do it here." That night your apartment was filled with laughter and soft jazz. Rafe hardly ever had this much energy so late but you loved it.

Two days after that night of dancing, you woke up to an eerie silence that felt too heavy for the morning. You went about your routine, still buoyed by the memory of Rafe's laughter filling your apartment. You checked your phone—just the usual notifications, a missed call from an unknown number, and a message from Sarah that simply said, "Call me."

You barely had time to press dial before she picked up, her voice trembling. She tried to speak, but only the sound of soft, choked sobs came through. Finally, she managed, "I’m so sorry…"

The words hit you, but you didn’t understand them. You wanted her to stop, to say something else—anything else. She kept speaking, her words blurred and distant, as though you were underwater, drowning. Somewhere in her explanation, you heard the words, "peacefully… in his sleep." But it didn’t feel peaceful. Your mind raced, demanding answers. Why hadn’t he told you? How long had he known?

Over the days that followed, Rafe's family gently filled in the pieces: he’d been sick for years, silently enduring, doing everything he could to hide it. Every date, every moment spent laughing with you, was a deliberate choice he made to live his last days fully, in love and joy, with you.

He hadn’t wanted you to know because he couldn't bear to see you suffer for him the same way he was once familiar with in his senior year. Even in the end, he kept the truth locked away, shielding you from the loss he knew was coming.

The weight of his choice tore you apart. You wanted to be angry, to hate him for leaving you out, but in his silence, there was also a strange kind of love. A love that had given you a few precious, unburdened moments together. Still, the pain settled deep within you, refusing to ease.

The anger, hurt, and ache became constant companions in the days that followed. But in his absence, you began to understand just how much he’d given for you.

He'd shared with you how hard it was for him to deal with that eerie state of loss. The stage where the person isn't gone but you know you'll lose them. It alters you in a messed up kind of way and he wanted you as far from that reality as possible. He was protecting you from his own condition till the very end.

Helping his family to clear out his apartment was easily the hardest thing you'd ever done. You couldn't do it without tearing up with every belonging of his you touched.

His favourite hoodie that he never let you wear but loved when you did. The polaroids in his drawer that you took from your first date, taken from the floor of the ice rink.

You noticed he'd scribbled writing on the back of the photo.

She finally said yes.

That was all it took. The last bits of your composure were stolen from you and you wept on his bedroom floor. Everyone always told you it would get easier but it never did. How could things get easier when the other half of your heart was buried six feet below the ground?

You learned to live with the loss, forcing a smile when in the company of others and taking deep breaths every morning when you woke up. Mildly disappointed the realm beyond the living hadn't reaped you during your slumber.

Very slowly, you begin to adjust to this new reality. It’s not the life you imagined, but you learn to live with the loss, carrying him with you in the smallest, most tender ways. His favourite hoodie becomes your comfort on cold nights, wrapping you in his memory and his scent.

Just because he was gone doesn't mean you'd end all of your traditions. Each year on the fourteenth of February, you visit his grave, placing a single red rose on the stone as a quiet tribute.

Though the ache remains, you hold his spirit close, carrying him forward into every milestone and memory yet to come, honouring the love you shared while finding the strength to continue onward.

In some ways, your love story turned out to be just another cliché—until it ripped your heart out from your chest, leaving you with the unbearable ache of everything he left unsaid, every unfulfilled promise, and the haunting silence of a future that will always belong to him.

Somehow, even in the quietest, most heart-wrenching moments, you never gave up on finding the silver lining, because life’s too short.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader

Simon knows suffering. He knows what it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like. He knows the fine line humans walk before they break and shatter, the cusp of control that is lost in the face of agony.

And right now, he sees it all over your face. Suffering.

"She's started walking," he murmurs, balancing Phoenix next to your thigh on the bed, sleepy and curled around the crux of his elbow, "kind of. She holds onto the couch and tables and stuff to cruise around."

"That's... great." The words are devoid of life, mirroring the dead look in your eyes, the one that's been there since you woke up a few days ago.

"Do you want to hold her? While she naps?" You shake your head immediately.

"No, I don't think... I'm really weak. I don't think I could hold her up." It's understandable. You've lost all muscle mass, mobility, strength. You can't walk to the bathroom, or hold a spoon for too long. You lose your words, your train of thought.

But that's not what this is. This is something else.

Still, he has to try.

"Well, I could..." He trails off, heart sinking at the look of panic in your eyes, the way you trace the knuckle of your ring finger subconsciously. It's a tic you've developed over night, one he's not sure you're even aware of.

"I'm tired." You won't look at him, picking a spot on your lap instead, lower lip tucked between your teeth.

"Okay, honey, that's alright. You don't have to." You reach for him, shaky hand trying to find his and he rushes to take it, rub his thumb over the back of your knuckles, squeeze you as tight as you can stand. "Do you want to get some rest?" You give him a nervous look, but nod.

"You'll be here? When I wake up?" His heart breaks.

"Of course."

No one was prepared for what would happen when you woke up and discovered you weren't pregnant anymore. The therapist warned him, but he was too focused on willing you to open your eyes everyday. He didn't listen, and he should have. He'll never forget the terror in your eyes, the way you pressed your hands to your stomach, how quickly you became hysterical, lost in the fear that Phoenix was gone.

The only thing you could say was "I tried, I tried" on a loop, a broken record stuck in the past. You tried to protect them, you told him, you tried to keep them safe. He held your face between his hands and forced you to look at him, but you weren't there, you weren't with him, and nothing he did or said got through to you. You were in that cold concrete box, tied to a chair, trying to protect your baby while a man was cutting your finger off. He told you Phoenix was fine, more than fine, that everything was okay, but it fell on deaf ears.

You only calmed down when they gave you a sedative, and he barely made it out of the room before he vomited in a trash can.

The next time you woke, it was to a therapist and Simon, Cami and Gaz down the hall with both of the kids. Waiting.

"A girl?" Simon squeezes your hand.

"A beautiful, healthy little girl. She's perfect." You blink.

"She's okay?" You were crying, big fat tears dripping down your cheeks, and he wanted to hold you so badly, but he had to get through this next part, and if he tugged you into his chest, he'd fall apart.

"She's okay mama. She's amazing." He glances at the therapist, who nods. "You had a c-section, shortly after you got here."

"I did?" You tug at the sheets immediately, pulling the gown up over your hips to look at your belly. "Oh." You sniffle, staring at yourself. The incision healed perfectly, but even a perfect wound still leaves a scar, and you glance between him and the therapist anxiously, who says your name quietly.

"I want you to take a deep breath," she coaches, waiting for you to do as she asks before continuing, "you've been here for over a year. Phoenix, your daughter, will be turning one soon. Orion is four." Your eyes widen.

"What? No... no that's not... " You start to shake, looking at Simon with wide, scared eyes. "Simon?" 

"It's been over a year, sweetheart." It burns on his tongue, but he promised to reaffirm it, to help solidify it as your reality. "But everyone is okay, you're okay. You're healthy, and Phoenix is healthy, and everything is-"

"Where are they? Orion and... Phoenix?" He glances at the therapist, who nods again.

"They're here. Do you want to see them?" You hold onto him like a lifeline.

"Yeah." 

The hard part was supposed to be over. Orion ran into your room so fast, and you smiled so big Simon's knees went weak, his knuckles white on the rail of the hospital bed. His son curled up in your lap just like he'd been doing for the last year and cried, clinging to you. He covered you in tears and snot, and all you did was hold him closer and bury your nose in his hair.

But when you saw the baby in Cami's arms, you turned into a ghost. "There she is," Cami bounced her, "there's your mama."

The look on your face was devastating. Gaz, thankfully, noticed it as fast as Simon did, and stepped halfway in front of Cami, stopping her from getting closer. "Let's take a breath," He murmured, looking back at where you sat shell-shocked in the bed.

"That's Nixie mama." Orion announces, matter of fact, just as he does everything else nowadays, and you shake your head.

"She's... she's beautiful." Your fingers twisted together. "I uh... sorry, I'm just..."

"It's okay." Simon pressed his lips to your temple, and you leaned into the touch.

"I'm sorry," you choked, fully crying now, still holding Orion, your grip tightening. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's alright honey, it's okay." He stroked your cheek, trying to calm you.

"Ouch mama, too tight." You let go of him like you were holding a hot pan, almost frantically, suddenly nervous. Scared.

"Let's give mama a break, okay? I think Uncle Gaz promised you a trip to the playground right?" Simon scooped him up, trying to hold him still as he thrashed.

"No!" He cried, trying to wriggle free. "No! I want to stay with mama, I want to stay, daddy stop!"

"She'll be here when you get back, little man." He was at a loss, saved only when Gaz pulled Orion from his arms and practically dragged him kicking and screaming out the door.

Once he was gone, your cries turned into sobs so heavy you needed an oxygen mask, and he spent the rest of the night holding you in his arms, long after you fell asleep.

"Hey."

"Hey." You immediately make room for him to lay down. He's bigger than the bed, but it's never stopped him from being beside you, and it won't stop him now.

He only went home to get the kids bathed, fed, and down for bed, letting Gaz know he'd relieve him again in a few hours. It was routine. Had been for a year. Cami and Gaz practically living at the house, swapping out weeks with Soap, everyone rotating so Simon could spend as much time at the hospital as possible. When they were gone, he made it work, but broke apart every time he couldn't be here, with you. The idea of you waking up without him made him physically ill, so he even enlisted someone from the next town over.

He was desperate.

Now, he's desperate in a different way.

"I think..." you're half asleep, and he kisses your hair, "tomorrow I'll do better."

"There's no rush. You've only been awake for a week. It takes time."

"I want to do better." He tightens his hold. "I promise I will." He's told you no one expects you to be okay or emotionally ready for any of this overnight. You're confused, you're stressed, and your guilt is eating you alive.

It's his fault at the end of the day. Everything you're going through, everything you will go through, your trauma, the PTSD, the things he knows are coming, all of it... the weight is on him.

"You do what you can. I'll be here for the rest." It's no question, he'd give his entire life for you. Lay down and die for you.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[ddarker-dreams]

please, please, PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR GOJO THE GOJO DROUGHT(esp writing) IS KILLING ME

warning for explicit not sfw, reader is fem, and yan gojo being questionable as ever.

"You've really been hurting my feelings, y'know."

Gojo whispers these words beside your ear, the lighthearted lilt masking the weight they carry. You squirm, attempting to wriggle away, but he's unrelenting, pinning your wrists above your head and keeping them there.

It's his eyes that startle you the most. He's made no effort to conceal the mania glossing over them, bright blues coruscating like sheets of ice. They pick you apart at a molecular level, feeding him an endless stream of information.

"Ignoring my calls..."

His finger ghosts over the mad pulse in your throat.

"My texts..."

He kisses you there while his hands explore lower—

"How's a man s'posed to take that?"

—And lower.

"Aren't you being a little too cold with your husband?"

Gojo plays with the hem of your skirt, bunching the fabric up along your thighs. You bite your lower lip to suppress the noises dying to leave your lips. He smiles, whistling lowly when his fingers feel the wet patch in your panties. Your cheeks burn hot and you avert your gaze. Chuckling, he steals your breath by tracing lazy patterns against the outline of your pussy.

"Fuck, you're way too cute," Gojo smothers your neck in obscenely loud, wet kisses. "Acting all pouty when we both know you missed me terribly. Poor thing."

"You're so full of yourself," you huff, unable to come up with anything better.

"And you'll be full of me soon enough."

You make a face at him. "That's really lame."

He squeezes your thighs not so gently and tuts. "It's still good enough to get you going. Seriously, you're fuckin' soaked. I should manhandle you more often."

Finally, he pushes your panties aside, rubbing circles against your clit. You try ignoring his wolfish grin when you part your thighs for him. His breath is hot and ragged against your neck, betraying his excitement. He guides your hand past his waistband, groaning shamelessly when you grasp the twitching outline of his cock through his briefs.

"Take it out, baby," he coos. "C'mon. You know how I like it. That's right, good girl."

You stroke him slowly, somewhat amazed by the sheer amount of precum coating his length. In the meantime, he pulls your skirt and panties down, the unexpected roughness almost making you lose your balance. He keeps you steady by lifting you up. You yelp, scrambling for purchase, which you find by encircling his waist with your legs.

"Satoru," you hiss. "If you think I'm gonna just forget and pretend like— mm...!"

"Sorry, what was that?" He questions, all the while rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance. "Mind repeating yourself?"

You shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You're the worst," you grumble.

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"I know," he admits as he sinks into you. Then again, this time quieter, almost failing to reach your ears. "I know."

[simonbrain]

part one

you awaken the next morning to the smell of something delicious, something familiar. like what your mother makes every morning.

you suddenly jolt up to find the bed empty, the thought of your family sending a wave of panic down your spine as you hastily pull the thick furs off of you and make a break for the front door, almost forgetting about the man who carried you home with him last night.

"oi, where are you off to?"

the deep voice from behind you causes you to yelp in surprise, and the arsehole has the audacity to chuckle.

you could only turn around and stare at him, unsure if you should run. he looks like he could snatch you up in a few strides, even if he gave you a head start. you glance back at the front door and remember just how long it took to come back here; there's no way you'll make it back home without getting lost.

"...my village. i— i need to go see my family, please." your voice breaks as you think about your loved ones, and tears begin to well up in your eyes. you try to blink them away, and the blank look on his face only makes you feel more helpless. he doesn't look bothered in the slightest.

"your village went up in flames—nothing but ashes now. no use going back." he says it so bluntly, moving past you to block your only exit and disregarding the dejected look on your face. you shouldn't be so ungrateful; he saved you from those beasts, didn't he? a poor thing like you would have been torn to shreds by them if they had found you crouched behind that tree. sweet little lamb wouldn't have been shown half the mercy simon showed you.

even if you did manage to escape them, what would be the point of walking around the endless forest in hopes of finding help? you wouldn't have made it. no, the pretty thing looking up at him with glossy eyes would have tripped over her own two feet.

"but— but i—"

your bottom lip quivers when he steps forward, crowding your personal space. he stares you down so intensely that you lose the ability to speak. go on, love, his eyes say. try me.

he huffs softly when you sniffle and look away. sensitive thing you are.

your stomach growls quietly, and that's simon's cue to place a rough hand on the nape of your neck so that he can guide you to the table.

he watches with quiet satisfaction as you eat breakfast, an even quieter interest bubbling in his stomach as he observes you. the sullen expression on your face almost makes him feel bad, but you'll just need to understand that this is for your own good.

as days pass, you find yourself growing more comfortable in your new home. simon (you've come to learn his name) is quite odd. he doesn't reveal much about himself, but he does listen when you ramble about your family, and he feeds you the most delicious things. it's quite a lot to eat, but you shouldn't be surprised; he's built like a damn bull, so it's no wonder he makes enough food to feed four people.

you try not to stare at his back too much when he's in the kitchen cooking, or at his arms when he's outside chopping up firewood, or at his hands when he absentmindedly places a paw on your leg.

however, simon—the mutt—is shameless. he drinks in the sight of you, with or without your knowledge, eyeing any exposed skin with a hunger he hasn't felt in years. he doesn't push you to do anything; he wasn't raised like that, but at the end of the day, simon is still a man. it's in his nature to go a little dumb in the presence of a sweet girl.

he quenches his thirst with a hand on your thigh during mealtimes. his palm against your back, slowly trailing down to rest on your ass as he teaches you self-defence outside. an arm wrapped tight around you as you both lay down for the night.

still, it's never enough.

then one day, when simon returns home after spending several days out, looking more rugged than usual with torn clothes and dried blood on him, he pulls you in for a hot kiss. he doesn't give you a chance to tear up at finally seeing him after so long or question him about what he did while he was away.

he only takes what's all his.

you let out a squeak, grasping at his hands, desperately trying to keep up with how he devours you on the spot, his greedy tongue licking into your mouth. the tension radiating from him is palpable, his itching fingers trailing down to squeeze at your hips, tugging you closer to him. simon swallows up your little noises before pulling away, humming in satisfaction at the dazed look on your face.

"even taste sweet," he muses quietly to himself, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

"you're injured." you frown, finally finding your voice. your face is still burning, but simon just chuckles softly, interlocking his hand with yours and leading you to the table. the quicker he patches himself up, the quicker he can get back to pulling more of those sweet sounds out of you.

[saeun]

ꪆ୧ ── REAP WHAT YOU SOW ┊ LOVE TO LOSE ﹑ JJK. ⤿ starring: gojo satoru x fem!reader.

꒰ heart to none ﹢ if only he knew karma would come back to bite his ass a few years later. now he misses his ex while she's moved on.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: nothing much!! just moments of him suffering

co-parenting with satoru truly isn't all butterflies. as reserved and respectful as he is (to a selected few), satoru never hesitated to taunt you whenever you mentioned going on dates.

“a date? hmm, good luck with that.”

“if it happens to kick off, good for you, but i don't want him near my child.”

“how exciting! i hope it fails.”

those are just some examples of his behaviour. he's vocal about disliking you and the idea of sharing you. had he known beforehand he'd become slightly possessive, he would've avoided you and relationships altogether.

loving someone his mind hates but his heart longs for isn't an experience he'd wish upon his worst enemy — it's too much. the wretched feeling in his chest deepens whenever he's with the kid; scenarios of you being beside him at that very moment flashes before his eyes, but his pride's too high to crash whatever you're doing.

that doesn't stop him from texting, however. he never had an issue with double—triple texting you. if he had something to say (which is never anything important), he'll say it.

satoru: hey.

satoru: did you forget you have a family at home?

satoru: my child's asleep btw, we had fun all day.

you: my* child. not yours.

satoru: so what am i, an elf on babysitting duties?

you: sure if that's what you want. now stop texting my phone.

satoru: what if i'm dying?

you: i'd pop some champagne. throw something on the grill. light up a cigarette, even.

satoru: you don't even like cigarettes.

you: exactly. now bye i'll be there for six.

yeah, there's no doubt that you'll never entertain him again. he, too, wouldn't entertain himself if he was in your position. sure, he was an ass in the relationship but— you're both older and wiser. maybe you can put the differences aside and come together? a flat no is what you'd answer.

satoru doesn't even hear from you often; most of your activity reports come from your child who excitedly tells their father the details, wishing he was there.

“you guys had fun. i wish i was there too, bub.”

a sentimental tone settled in his voice. he's suffering the consequences of his actions, and he desperately needs you to help him through it.

just like old times: you'd be there for him, going along with whatever he needed to calm down. whether it's wanting to be in you or on you— as long as your arms were wrapped around him.

but it's all a memory now. a bitter one.

do you show your vulnerable side to the guys you date, too? do you hold them the way you held him? do they even know what you like? do they know you the way he knows you?

jealousy, regret, longing— everything mixes in his mind. his stomach aches. it feels as though his insides are hollow.

he adores your child. they look mostly like him, but the personality stems from you. the attitude, tantrums, even the way they hold things — it's all you. he guesses the kid's observed you and eventually picked up your habits. satoru relates; after all, he still has some of your habits he picked up.

as the clock ticks on, his fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone. somehow, he found himself in your pinned chat— debating whether he should text or not. he's been typing and deleting for the past ten minutes. unless you're not on the app, there's no way you didn't notice the ‘typing...’ under his contact name.

satoru: i've been thinking.

(message deleted)

satoru: fuck your date let's get back together.

(message deleted)

satoru: or whatever you're doing right now. let me apologize — it's been years. our baby's four now.

(message deleted)

satoru: hey.

you: what's with these deleted messages?

you: are you okay?

he wonders. is he okay? would you come over if he said no? are you going to be mad if he re-sent what the deleted messages said?

satoru: uhhh yeah. everything's fine.

satoru: i'm bored that's why.

satoru: you should totally come over.

you: no.

you: talk to you later.

satoru: please? i'm serious.

you: fine.

satoru: might as well spend the night.

(message deleted)

satoru: thanks.

(message delivered)

“well fuck...” he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. he doesn't have anything to say nor do with you. actually, he does — he has quite a few, but he wouldn't push your buttons. he'd love to, but the chances of him receiving a slap is high.

[megalony]

You'll See Him Soon

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon. I hope you will all like it, I wrote this one so quickly. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While (Y/n) pops by the station, her and Eddie both end up getting shot. And the team race to get them both to the hospital before they lose them.

Enjoy.

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

"So, lunch on Tuesday?"

A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s face and she turned to the right, looking over at her big sister with a smile.

"Yep. You know we'll have to invite Buck though, right?" (Y/n) laughed at the way Maddie rolled her eyes.

They had gone out today on a girl's day while Evan, Eddie and Chimney were all on shift. That was all well and good, but it made Evan feel left out. Whenever they went out together on a girl's day, they ended up going to the movies or going out for lunch another day with Evan. The three of them were a close-knit sibling unit and Evan seemed to think girl's day should also include him.

"Hm, I know." She cast a sly grin across at (Y/n) before she looked ahead and turned the next corner.

"You can just drop me at the station, you know. Eddie will be finished by now and he said he'd give me a lift home." They were only three minutes away from the station and it saved Maddie having to go past her flat to get to (Y/n) and Eddie's place.

It meant she could just drop (Y/n) here and make the short trip home and (Y/n) would go home with Eddie. As long as he wasn't currently out on a call but even if he was, (Y/n) would just wait at the station for him.

"Don't forget to ask Eddie and Buck about getting that night off next month."

(Y/n) groaned and pressed her temple against the window at the mere mention of what was going to happen next month. She could feel a headache forming behind her eyes at the thought.

"If they don't get it off, I'll be down at the station with them." (Y/n) could hear her sister laughing, but she wasn't joking. She was being serious. If neither of the boys got that night off, (Y/n) would be joining them and hanging out at the station for the night.

There was no way (Y/n) and Maddie could get through dinner with their parents without Eddie and Evan there with them. It wasn't often that they saw their parents nowadays and that was how the three siblings liked it.

But (Y/n) knew when she told them she was pregnant, they would want to come down and see them all. She had been surprised they hadn't come down sooner, but they were finally coming down for three days next week and (Y/n) was dreading it.

"At least they're happy this time… they're excited." Leaning across the console, Maddie rested her hand on (Y/n)'s leg and gave her a little shake to make her smile.

"Yeah, after they said I wasn't old or mature enough to be Chris's mum. Now this is 'their grandchild' they've changed their tune."

(Y/n) kept her head against the cold glass that felt soothing to her skin. She dared to glance her eyes down and her expression softened when she looked at her bump. Her fingers danced over her abdomen and she started drawing aimless patterns like Eddie had started to do recently. (Y/n) didn't realise how attached to her stomach Eddie would be until she finally started to show.

Not long before she and Eddie got married last year, her parents had tried telling her- in front of Eddie- that she wasn't mature enough to be a mother to Chris. And she had seen the conflict in their eyes when Chris called her mum. They didn't see how much it meant to (Y/n) that Chris thought of her as his mother.

Because she was the youngest sibling, they thought she was somehow incompetent at doing anything.

Only now it was different because (Y/n) was the first one out of the three of them to have a child. Her parents had changed their minds because they could see (Y/n) was the happiest she had ever been with Eddie and she was settling down. They were going to be grandparents and it sparked a small change in them.

Although (Y/n) knew if they dared say anything when they came down, Eddie would blow a fuse.

"So… have you thought of any names yet? I think-"

"We are not calling her Maddie." (Y/n) shook her head and shot a glare across at her sister who was just about to turn into the station car park.

"Why not?"

"Because it's your name. It's bad enough Buck's trying to hustle in and pitch Evelyn for a name. We're not naming her after anybody."

(Y/n) had seen Eddie's eyes light up when they went to their scan two weeks ago and found out they were having a girl. She knew he had been hoping for a girl and she could already tell their daughter would have Eddie wrapped around her little finger.

But the couple were starting to regret telling people because they were all coming up with names and ideas left, right and centre. Evan had been bummed they couldn't name the baby after him, until he realised Evelyn was close to his name and kept pestering Eddie to pick that name. And even though Maddie was joking, she had pitched Madeline to them a few times.

God knows there wasn't anyone on (Y/n)'s side of the family she would want to name her daughter after- except for her big sister. But (Y/n) couldn't handle two Maddie's and getting confused and having to come up with nicknames for each of them.

And she had asked Eddie if he had anyone on his side that he thought about naming their daughter after, but he wasn't keen on the idea. They wanted something original. A name no one else in their friendship circle had.

"Fine," Maddie huffed with a roll of her eyes as she parked up and whipped off her seatbelt. She turned to the left and looked over at (Y/n) with a tender smile before she danced her fingertips across (Y/n)'s stomach. And her smile brightened when (Y/n) moved her hand down so she could feel the baby wriggling. "Well what about Dolly, because she'll be as cute as a little doll."

"I'll think about it." (Y/n) would admit that it would be sweet to call her Doll or Dolly, especially if she was small and delicate. But knowing their luck, they would agree on that name and then either their daughter wouldn't suit the name when she was born or she wouldn't be a small baby.

She gave Maddie's hand a squeeze and grinned, but just as she took off her belt and looked to the left, a pair of hands slammed against the window.

(Y/n) screamed as Maddie gasped and reeled back in her seat with a frown when they both realised it was only Eddie.

He had a wolfish grin on his lips while he crouched down to look through the window. He seemed to make it his mission to give (Y/n) a fright recently and she was sure it was because he loved to make her scream and liven up the baby.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) hissed and slammed her hand down on the window before she moved her hand to her chest, trying to regain back her breath.

Her brows furrowed into a deep frown as Eddie opened the door and when he held his hand out for her, she batted it away and climbed out. "Don't do that! Do you want me to have a heart attack?"

She gave his shoulder a shove and tried to glare at him, but it was hard when he grinned down at her with such a wide smile that his cheeks and eyes creased. And when he leaned over and wormed his arms around her waist and reeled her into his chest, (Y/n) didn't have the effort to push him away.

"No, just keepin' you on your toes, baby."

His palms pressed flush against her back and he pulled her into him until their chests were touching and (Y/n) had to hold onto his shoulders to steady herself. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes on him when his lips attached to the side of her neck "Look what you've done," She muttered quietly, reaching behind her to hold Eddie's wrist and move his hand from her back until his palm was pressed into the side of her stomach.

"She's happy to see me." He grinned against her neck and bared his teeth, lightly grazing against her neck until (Y/n) gave his shoulders a squeeze and started to squirm in his arms.

He lifted his head up so he could kiss the side of (Y/n)'s temple and his arms curved back around her. Keeping her pinned into his chest and when she curled her arms around his neck to hug him, he started to sway them both from side to side. And Eddie turned his head to the left, grinning over at Maddie as she got out the car and leaned against the door with a grin and raised brows.

"Did you two have fun?"

"We went for lunch, then we saw a movie."

They hadn't made any plans today, they had decided to have a girls day but see what they felt like doing when they went out. Both of them had been hungry, so they tried a new restaurant for lunch and then decided to go to the movies. It had been a while since they had gone out together and seen a movie and it was something they used to do every weekend when (Y/n) was younger.

"Someone had to leave the screen twice for a drink refill. Little miss lemonade with lime cordial."

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and looked up at Eddie through her lashes when he scrunched his nose in distaste and gave her an odd look.

"You don't like lime juice." That wasn't something Eddie had ever known (Y/n) to drink and it was an odd combination. And it wasn't like (Y/n) to go and get a refill drink either, she barely drank enough during the day to keep her going so it was a nice surprise to hear she kept getting another drink.

"Hm, your daughter does," Maddie chirped with a wide grin before she looked down at her watch. "Right, I'd better love you and leave you, I'll see you both at the weekend for games night. Tell Buck I said hi."

When Maddie climbed back in the car and blew a few kisses their way, they stood back and waved her off.

"Is your shift over?" (Y/n) dragged her eyes up and down Eddie's frame, only just realising that he was still in his starched navy trousers and button up shirt. Her fingers dug down into his shoulders and she tilted back a little when Eddie leaned his chest against hers and stole a deep kiss from her lips.

"Hm, just gotta get changed, then we can go home." He could see that was music to (Y/n)'s ears.

Sitting down in a movie theatre was all well and good, but (Y/n) was starting to feel tired already and she hadn't done that much today. She wanted to go home, make tea and slump on the sofa with her boys.

"So, was the movie any good?" Eddie curved his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist to keep her tucked up into his side as they walked round to the front of the station. He stuffed his other hand into his pocket and pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head when she leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

"Yeah, but I missed the ending queuing for the toilet." In all honesty (Y/n) had missed a few crutial parts of the film when she went to go get another drink, twice. And then she had to hurry out twice for the toilet and the queue had been horrendous at the end. It was lucky she was only five months along with the baby or she wasn't sure she would of been able to wait as long as she did for the queue to go down.

She could feel Eddie laughing into her hair as both their steps came to a halt when they noticed Hen, Chimney and Evan all gathered in a little circle just outside the station doors.

"What kind of meeting is this?" (Y/n) quipped with a grin and she leaned over when Evan looped his arm around her shoulders and reeled her under his wing for a hug.

"Shift change-over. Me and your hubby are leaving, these two are staying for the next four hours." Hen hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and smiled triumphantly as if she had just won a game.

They were all out here because the trucks were being restocked and the ambulance was out on a call. It was quieter out here than inside where everyone was hustling and bustling to stock up and clatter and change over. And Hen was getting ready to leave whereas Chimney and Evan were taking a breather before they went back in for the rest of their shifts.

"So, how's Evelyn?"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and unhooked her brother's arm from her shoulders before she crossed her arms over her chest. But she smiled when Eddie reached behind her to give Evan a light shove.

"I've told you, we're not naming her after you." He gave Evan a pointed look before he moved his hands to his hips and leaned his head to one side. It didn't matter how many times Evan tried or how much he pestered. Eddie's first daughter was not going to be named after his brother-in-law.

(Y/n) leaned into Eddie's left side, trying to hide her grin when Chimney started to laugh.

"Debatable." Evan remarked with narrowed eyes before he looked back down at his little sister. He wasn't giving up just yet; he could pester them for a lot longer to see if they would give in and go along with the name he had chosen. "So, how is she?"

"She's fine."

"So, are you two-"

Whatever Hen was about to say tapered off when a sharp, shrill noise cut through the air and shifted the atmosphere around them.

A gunshot.

Nobody knew where it came from. They didn't know who fired, where they were standing, what kind of shot it was that was directed at them. Or who the shot was aimed for.

Terror dug its claws into (Y/n)'s chest and ripped out her lungs when her head turned to the right.

It was Eddie. Eddie was the one who got shot. She didn't see the bullet hit him, but (Y/n) knew the moment he had been hurt; his left hand clawed into her back and made her wince. She knew by the way his fingertips punctured into her hip and how his hand fisted her flesh like he was trying to tear a chunk off that the pain hit him instantly.

She didn't see the shot, it happened far too quick to see the bullet fly through the air or see it hit her husband. But when Eddie's shirt around his right shoulder started to turn berry-red, it ignited (Y/n)'s heart until she was matching the pulse rate of a hummingbird.

Her hands grappled for Eddie, holding his back and scrunching her other hand up in his shirt over his chest to try and keep him upright, but she couldn't.

His name passed her lips like a whisper in the wind and when Eddie's lips parted, (Y/n) could hear the quiet breath he huffed.

There was no expression on his face, his eyes weren't in focus, they were dazed and staring ahead into the distance. His lips parted but he wasn't saying anything and he was barely breathing. It was like someone had refreshed his system and he was completely blank.

But he couldn't stay upright. It felt like hours had passed when barely a second ticked by from the bullet entering his shoulder to Eddie's body tilting backwards.

"Eddie-" (Y/n) curled her hands into fists around his shirt but she couldn't hold him up. He fell too swiftly and with too much weight for (Y/n) to try and keep him on his feet. Her body shuddered and she winced when his fingers stayed puncturing into her back where she knew she would have bruises later.

He crashed down on his back on the pavement, his head bouncing against the concrete slabs harsh enough that it should have cracked his head open.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed on instinct when she started to fall with him but a scream burned at the back of her throat when it felt like the back of her right thigh had suddenly been torn apart or bitten by a rabid dog.

Her knees crashed into the floor and her hands shook against Eddie's chest as she landed with a crash so forceful it sent all the blood down to her legs and her head started to spin. Black and white spots danced in front of her eyes and she let her head bash down into Eddie's chest, gasping to try and keep herself awake and alert, but everything was on fire.

(Y/n) could feel every pounding beat her heart thrashed out. She could feel her heartbeat beneath every inch of her skin and her pulse throbbing in her ears. She felt like her head was going to explode. Bells were ringing in her ears along with her heartbeat. Hot coals surrounded her body that felt like it was melting and scorching hot.

Her knees were aching- her right thigh felt like it had been shredded to ribbons.

"Eddie… Eddie, baby," Words dripped past (Y/n)'s lips but she barely heard her own voice.

She tried to focus herself and move but everything began to shake. Her hands were trembling up and down like she was doing some odd kind of dance but she managed to cradle Eddie's face between her trembling palms. Her thumbs swiped across his face and she tried to tilt his head in her direction.

His eyes were still open but they weren't focusing properly, he was looking through (Y/n) rather than at her. But he was awake. (Y/n) needed him to stay awake.

It was only then that (Y/n) managed to get her ears into focus and she realised she could hear voices around them. She remembered it wasn't just her and Eddie in this situation. Her brother and their team were here too.

"Cap we've got a shooter!"

"Get inside-"

"Eddie's been hit!"

"Get inside- get them inside now."

Hands grappled with (Y/n)'s shoulders and a quiet "No," tumbled past her lips when she felt a chest pressing down into her back and whoever it was nudged her to the side.

She wasn't sure who was holding her back but she began to cry. She had to stay with Eddie. Why weren't they letting her hold Eddie? She had to make sure he was okay and somehow get him inside. (Y/n) had to stay with him; they couldn't try and tear them apart like this.

His name tore past (Y/n)'s lips again and her hands tried to latch around her brother's bicep when Evan crouched in between her and Eddie.

He was working on overdrive. Evan could barely move from the amount of adrenaline that was shooting through his system and it made him feel sick. His thighs burned from how he was crouched, balancing on the heel of his boots while his trembling arms grabbed his brother in law. He looped Eddie's arm around the back of his neck and dug his fingers into Eddie's good shoulder like tallons.

His left hand grabbed Eddie's hip and with some effort, Evan hoisted his brother up onto his shoulder.

"Go!" He all but roared, waving his arm out for Hen and Chimney to get inside with (Y/n). He needed his sister inside with them. She had been hurt too and Evan wasn't sure where she had been hit. He could see the blood soaking down both her legs and pooling on the floor and he dreaded to think where it was coming from.

His legs shook as he bolted through the open doors, trying to stay hunkered down low so he and Eddie were less of a target for anymore bullets. But he heard another gunshot ricochet against the shutters and it made Evan cower.

Why was someone shooting at them? What had they done? They were emergency responders, they saved lives, they didn't take them. There was no reason for someone to be taking revenge out on them.

Why had they shot Evan's family?

"Eddie-" (Y/n) felt a pair of hands on each of her arms and she let them lift her up but as soon as she was on her feet, she screamed.

A banshee howl left her lips and she coiled her right leg up off the floor. Standing on both feet felt like a knife was slicing down from her hip to her toes. Someone was cutting her in two. Someone had taken her husband away from her. She needed to get him back.

Her foot bent at an awkward angle beneath her and she tried to hop on her left foot, dragging her right leg behind her like it was a third, useless limb she didn't need. Her head flopped forward, gluing her eyes to the floor that was littered with tiny flecks of blood like someone had walked by eating strawberries.

Her hands dug into Chimney's arm and shoulder and if she had the energy, (Y/n) would have tried to tell him she could walk. She would of tried to hold herself up if she wasn't drowning in panic.

She barely felt Hen run past her to open the truck doors.

Hen climbed in the back of the truck. Bobby climbed in the driver's seat. Evan and Chimney dragged their family towards the truck. It was their only mode of transport to get out of here and make their way down to the hospital when the ambulance was already out on a call and was far too small to transport them all.

(Y/n) could hear Bobby shouting orders, but his voice sounded quiet and distant like he was shouting from the other side of a lake.

"Lockdown the station when we leave! Nobody in, nobody out!"

A groan rumbled through Eddie's chest and vibrated against the back of his throat when he felt himself suddenly being tilted backwards.

He could barely comprehend why he was suddenly being lifted up by Evan or where he was being taken. The view of the station was blurred. Everything looked like a watercolour painting but the paints were too runny and blending together. Eddie couldn't make sense of anything.

His lungs stuttered and clenched when he was hoisted off of Evan's shoulder and he was held up on his feet by someone behind him and Evan in front of him, gripping his wrists so tightly he was going to snap them.

Evan climbed up the steps, leaning backwards to keep Eddie's weight and keep him stood up. And when he was up, Evan carefully twisted Eddie to the left and laid him down over the seats. He could see the movement sent Eddie's whole body convulsing and he gasped for breath at the feeling of his shoulder coming into contact with the chairs.

"Okay come here; I gotcha." Spinning on his heels, Evan reached his hands down and held onto (Y/n)'s forearms while Chimney stood behind her. She was much easier to manouevre than Eddie, she was alert and responsive and somewhat helpful.

Her nails scratched into Evan's forearms and a choked sound rumbled past her lips when he pulled her up. When her foot caught on the top step, waves of electricity flowed through (Y/n)'s leg and spots danced in front of her eyes as her head fell forward into her brother's shoulder.

"Cap, go, go!" Hen bashed her fist on the roof before the truck came to life and they all jostled forward as Bobby shifted into gear.

(Y/n) thrashed her arms out until her hands planted down on the seats and she let her weight fall down until she was on her knees in the footwell. She stretched her right leg out behind her, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that felt like her whole leg was vibrating with her heartbeat.

It was as if her leg was hanging on by a thread that was about to snap. (Y/n) wished it would. If that thread tore, it might take away the pain. She just wanted it to stop so she could focus on Eddie. He was her priority.

Her chin pressed down on Eddie's good shoulder and her trembling hands clutched his shirt so tightly she popped the first three buttons open.

Her head was pounding. Her eyes couldn't see anything more than Eddie, blurs and stars twinkled all around him like he was an angel or a vision from Heaven. She leaned closer to him when Evan hovered beside her. Evan held onto the headrest to hold himself up while he leaned over Eddie's chest and pressed a large pack of gauze down on the bullet wound.

He winced when Eddie coughed and groaned and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Eddie's head lifted up when pressure pushed down on his shoulder and felt like a hand was physically breaking through the muscle to touch the most sensitive nerves around his bone.

The pressure set something off inside Eddie's body; an extra dose of adrenaline coursed through him and made him a little more alert.

"Are you hurt?" Eddie's voice was gruff as he grunted and managed to flop his head to the left to look over at (Y/n).

He blinked slowly and tried to prize his eyes open wide so he could look her up and down but his vision was going blurry. He was glad his good arm was closest to (Y/n). He flopped his arm off the chair and slumped his hand onto her arm so he could trail his tremoring fingertips over her body.

She had blood smears on her shirt, but he couldn't find an entry wound. She had blood on her face but he couldn't see any cuts. Her breaths were shallow and her body was trembling but Eddie didn't know where she had been hurt.

His fingertips moved down until his hand touched her abdomen and he kept his unfocused eyes on (Y/n) to watch any change in her expression. He moved his hand from left to right, becoming more frantic with each second when she didn't say anything and no one told him if she was hurt or not.

"S-she okay?" Eddie tipped his head back into the seat and coughed when Evan applied more pressure. He was going to bust his shoulder if he pressed down any more than this.

But he tried to look back at (Y/n) when he realised she was only clutching his shirt with one hand. He felt her other hand hold his wrist and press his hand down on her stomach to make him stop checking frantically.

"She's okay."

(Y/n) did her best to smile, despite the tears that were pouring down her face and each breath she took which hitched higher and higher than the last.

Her eyes stayed focused on Eddie, but when she felt Hen applying pressure to the wound on the back of her right leg, (Y/n) couldn't help but cry out. A scream cut past her lips and her eyes snapped closed as she smothered her face down against Eddie's shoulder to try and stay awake when it felt like she was going to pass out.

"Where's she hurt?" Evan took the words right out of Eddie's mouth while he leaned over to try and look his sister up and down. He had seen her fall and heard her cry out, but he didn't see a bullet hit her. Evan had to assume she was hit from the pain she was in and the way she was starting to deteriorate the same as Eddie.

"Right thigh, just above her knee. Someone give me their belt, I need to stop the bleeding."

Chimney leaned back on his heels and yanked his belt free from his trouser loops and handed it over. He moved his hands to (Y/n)'s shoulders and tried to comfort her and keep her still as he moved to press his fingers against her neck to check her pulse.

Another scream mixed with a tepid cry coursed through the air when the belt sank into (Y/n)'s leg like teeth chomping down on her flesh. She could feel her leg and her foot pulsing and throbbing and vibrating like she was a boombox screaming out a beat.

But when (Y/n) lifted her head from Eddie's shoulder, she could see his eyes rolling near the back of his head and his breaths started to pick up and become fast and shallow.

"Just hang in there, two minutes, okay? Stay with us, Eddie." Evan gave Eddie's neck a jostle and tilted his head from side to side to try and keep him conscious. He couldn't fall asleep on them, he had to stay awake and conscious until they got him to the hospital. Why couldn't he stay awake like (Y/n)? He needed to stay alert with them.

"You're gonna be okay, baby." (Y/n) couldn't keep her voice level and she hiccupped through her words as she tried to push closer into the chairs to be next to Eddie.

She swiped her eyes and nose against her sleeve but she could feel her head filling up with air like a balloon. She wanted to go to sleep. She wanted everything to stop. She wanted Eddie to wake up properly and be okay. (Y/n) wanted to rewind time and usher them all inside so nobody got hurt.

Why did it have to be Eddie?

Her hand moved to cup the side of his face and she swiped her thumb across his jaw while her other hand dragged through his hair, brushing the curls away from his eyes. She knew he loved it when she carded her fingers through his hair. Maybe this would keep him awake with her.

"We're here! Eddie, come on let's go. Don't you fall asleep on me."

Eddie's head tilted back and he choked, barely able to breathe when he found himself laid back over Evan's shoulder once again. His left hand tried to reach out, but Evan was moving too fast for Eddie to comprehend. He could taste (Y/n)'s name on his lips and feel the way his nerves tingled when he tried to say her name, but it didn't make a difference. He couldn't see her anymore.

Bobby pressed his hand to the back of Eddie's neck and helped Evan carefully lower him down onto the stretcher that was already waiting for them to arrive. Two nurses and a doctor smothered Eddie with an oxygen mask and a pulse monitor on his finger before they began to move him.

A frown pulled on Evan's lips when Eddie gripped his wrist weakly and gave a sharp tug. "What? What?"

Evan tried to move with him but they moved Eddie too fast and his grip wasn't strong enough to pull Evan along with them. But he heard that one word that spluttered past Eddie's lips.

"(Y/n)."

Leaning down, Hen curled her arms around (Y/n) and pulled her back when she tried to crawl forwards after Eddie. Shallow, gasping breaths left (Y/n)'s lips and her hands scratched against the metal floor as she tried to drag herself to the door.

"Eddie-"

"He's with a doctor, which is where we need to take you. He'll be okay, you're both gonna be okay." Chimney reached down for (Y/n)'s left arm and looped it around the back of his neck before he carefully stood up and the pair of them lifted (Y/n) up between them.

Each gasping, startling cry she let out made them wince and they could feel her shaking back and forth between them like she was hypothermic.

Chimney slowly climbed down the steps but he paused when Evan appeared in front of them like an omen. He held his arms out and reached up for (Y/n), taking her weight for her to help her down from the truck.

"We need another stretcher over here! Pregnant lady with a gunshot wound!"

Both (Y/n)'s hands moved to grip Evan's biceps and she tried tilting her head back to look up at him but it only made spots flash in front of her eyes. She could feel her knees buckling and giving in and she was sure she would be laid out on the floor at any given moment.

"Eddie… I w- wh- where's Eddie?"

"It's okay, you'll see him soon. Let's g-"

That was all she needed to hear. Those words acted as a switch in (Y/n)'s brain and everything started to shut down.

Panic sparked through Evan's body like a wildfire when (Y/n)'s head slumped onto his arm and her body went down. He deadlocked his arms around her waist and lifted her up, pinning her chest against his to stop her from hitting the floor while they waited for another stretcher to be rushed over to them.

Evan leaned down and looped his right arm beneath (Y/n)'s legs, cringing and gagging when he felt the blood instantly soak onto his skin and drip down between his fingers.

Oh God.

***

I'm not staying here.

With that thought in mind, (Y/n) tiredly looked around the room she was in and pursed her lips.

She didn't want to be here.

She didn't want to stay here on her own.

The only reason (Y/n) had managed to stay here last night was because she had been dosed up on morphine which knocked her off her senses. She had become coherent enough this morning to realise she was in the hospital.

She was in a small room on her own. Eddie wasn't here. He was somewhere on this floor, in this ward, but he wasn't here. (Y/n) couldn't sleep on her own. She couldn't stand being anywhere on her own and right now, she was alone at night. Evan and Maddie had visited her and stayed with her until the nurses told them they had to leave and come back in the morning.

None of the nurses listened when Maddie told them (Y/n) was liable to try and leave. They thought she was too hyped up on morphine to try and leave, but that was what she was going to do.

Everyone who had been to visit her today had told her Eddie was okay. He had recovered from surgery, his shoulder joint hadn't been hit by the sniper, it was just the muscle that got damaged. Eddie was awake and on the same pain meds as she was and (Y/n) knew Chris was safe at home. And Evan was staying at their house so Chris didn't have to leave the comfort of home so he would feel better without his parents there.

Her hands moved to her face and she brushed away the tears she had been shedding for the last half an hour. All (Y/n) had done since her siblings left was cry. She hated being alone. She couldn't sleep alone at night. The only reason she slept at home when Eddie was on a night shift was knowing that Chris was in the next room.

"I want Eddie."

If she didn't see him, she was going to go insane.

All (Y/n) could see when she closed her eyes was the image of Eddie on the floor with a mixture of their combined blood mingling together against the concrete. How would she know if he was truly okay if she didn't see him with her own eyes?

How did she know her friends and family weren't just lying to her to keep her calm?

Sitting herself up, (Y/n) looked down at the IV line capped into her left hand as she took deep breaths to stop herself from crying. With minimal effort, she paused the IV machine and twisted the cap until it disconnected from the needle in her wrist. She could easily reattach it whenever she decided to come back to this room later.

It took some effort for her to swing her legs over the side of the bed and (Y/n) grimaced at the hospital gown she was wearing.

Maddie promised to bring her and Eddie some of their own clothes tomorrow when she came down to visit them.

The moment her feet touched the floor, (Y/n) grimaced. The morphine didn't take all the pain away. Granted, it had done yesterday, but recovering from the anaesthetic probably helped numb everything else.

When she was up on her feet, (Y/n) stretched both arms out and hobbled over to the wall. She planted her hands down on the wall, lifted her right leg until her toes barely scraped the floor, and started to hop. It was a lot of effort and her stomach churned and twisted, but she had to persevere.

She had to find Eddie.

More tears stained her face as she quietly opened the door and hobbled out. It felt like she was a cripple with only one leg. Her right leg was practically useless in this state anyway and the nurses hadn't found her a walker or any crutches yet. They were supposed to be trying to get (Y/n) up and out of bed tomorrow, but she needed to move around now so she could find her husband.

(Y/n) crossed to the other side of the corridor so she was leaning on the wall on her right. Her shoulder and arm pinned into the wall as if she was about to slouch down to the floor and she hopped and shuffled along, trying not to make a sound so no one noticed. She could always say she was going to the bathroom if anyone asked.

Her eyes squinted in the dim light to read the names written in whiteboard marker outside each room.

She scanned along them and passed about five different rooms until her heart jumped into her throat and her eyes locked on a familiar name.

Diaz.

Here he was. She'd found him.

Her teeth sank down in her lower lip as she dragged her limp, useless leg behind her and crossed to the room opposite. She was relieved Eddie wasn't on a ward. It wouldn't do her any favours to be sneaking into the men's ward in the middle of the night when she didn't know who else would be in there.

She opened the door as quietly as she could and peeked her head round. (Y/n) wasn't sure what she thought she was going to see. Maybe she thought Eddie would somehow get visitors to stay through the night with him whereas she wouldn't. Or maybe she thought he wouldn't actually be in here, that this was a mistake and something had happened to him like she dreaded.

But when she hobbled over the threshold and looked ahead, her stomach started to flutter with adrenaline and she scratched her hand across her neck to remind herself to breathe.

There he was. He didn't look comfy. It wasn't like Eddie to sleep on his back, it wasn't something he did. When they were at home (Y/n) was used to him laying in funny positions with one leg hanging off the bed or she would wake in the morning to have him wrapped around her like a second blanket.

But here Eddie was, laid uncomfortably on his back with his right arm pinned to his chest in a sling. He had pushed the cover down so it barely covered his knees and he had his good arm flopped above his head on the pillow.

(Y/n) knew he was a light sleeper so she turned and shut the door with a little pressure to wake him rather than stand beside him and frighten him awake.

His head snapped forward within a second and he groaned, clicking his neck from left to right while his eyes adjusted to the dim light seeping in from the corridor.

"Baby?" Eddie's voice was gruff and deep. He lifted his arm from the pillow and dragged his hand across his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Before he moved to look at his left arm. He wasn't connected to an IV; they took him off it just before he went to sleep and said they would start him on another one in the morning.

He wasn't dosed on morphine anymore, conjuring up the image of his wife in front of him to make himself feel better. So why was she here? She should be back in her own room. Resting. Safe and sound until one of the nurses finally listened to Eddie's beligerent badgering about taking him down to see his wife.

"Baby… what are you doing?"

He pushed himself up so he was sitting up in bed, rubbing at his stiff neck before he squinted at her through his lashes. He watched her drag her fingers across her neck and over her chest; something he recognised as a nervous habit.

When she tried to step forward, she noted the way Eddie took a sharp breath. She could barely walk. She was limping and she had to reach out and grab the bed frame to hold herself up.

"I got lonely," (Y/n)'s voice was meek and timid but she tried to smile. She didn't want to be in that room on her own any longer. Why couldn't she be in the same room as Eddie? They were both patients with similar injuries. And they were both more liable to stay and listen to the doctor's orders if they were together and comfortable instead of separated and panicked.

She watched Eddie's eyes rake up and down her frame, but it was the way his lips pulled into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed on her that made (Y/n) shrink in on herself and wince.

"Jesus baby, you shouldn't be walking about! You could hurt yourself, you know that?"

"I can't sleep on my own." She tried to keep her tone light and force herself to smile, but Eddie's stern expression and his demanding voice made her stomach twist.

"You could tear your stitches or burst a blood vessel if you're not careful. Baby you can't-"

"I'm scared."

A tremor rattled through Eddie's chest and caused a sharp pain to strike his heart when he realised (Y/n)'s eyes were watering. He could feel his lungs shrivelling up in his chest and his shoulders sagged, despite the pain it caused.

She didn't want to be on her own. Not when being apart from Eddie meant she had nightmares that he didn't get here in time. She had to see him, touch him, be with him to convince herself that he was okay. Being on her own left her mind free to torment her. To see Eddie drop down in a pool of blood. To feel her leg ache and pound like it was going to fall off. To have her hands cradling her stomach, fretting that she was going to lose their baby.

It was too scary to be alone. (Y/n) wanted company; she wanted Eddie.

(Y/n) was torn between wanting to run forward and wanting to leave if Eddie was going to be mad with her. But her watering eyes widened when Eddie threw the cover to one side and waved his good hand towards her.

"Get in here."

As soon as she was within reach, Eddie curled his good arm around (Y/n)'s waist and helped her ease down onto the bed. He laid down and pulled her with him, suddenly feeling his own sense of peace when they laid down together. This was why he couldn't settle early in the morning when the drugs wore off. This was why Eddie felt uncomfortable all day and got irritable when any visitor walked through the door. They weren't (Y/n). He wasn't whole without her.

He turned his head to the left and smothered his nose and lips against the top of her head, breathing in her scent like it was the most addictive drug in the hospital.

He felt her head snuggle down into his chest and she bound her arm around his torso, clinging to him like someone was suddenly going to walk in and tear her out of his arms. He wouldn't let them. He wouldn't let anyone take her away from him; especially not if she was frightened.

"Do you feel okay? All I got off Buck was 'she's fine, she's fine' and that didn't really wash well with me."

They had run Eddie through what had happened and told him where (Y/n) had been shot because he remembered she was hurt, but he didn't remember where. It was a relief to know the bullet went in her leg. Any higher and it could have hit a vital organ. Any higher and it would have hit the baby.

But no one would tell Eddie much because at first he wasn't lucid enough and then he tried to leave the room when he wasn't allowed. He was promised he could see her tomorrow, but holding her tonight was so much better.

"Just achy… my thigh stings a bit, but it's okay. How about you?" (Y/n) tilted her head up and nuzzled her face into Eddie's neck so she could be closer to him.

Her lips attached to his neck and she pressed a tender kiss there just beneath the stubble that was starting to grow in.

"It's familiar, being used to it helps. And it didn't hit the bone, thank God." It was strange to think that he was used to the feeling of being shot. Eddie didn't think it was a feeling he would ever have to have again after he left the army.

But having some experience with this feeling definitely helped. He knew how to avoid the pain and how to push through it, and he thanked God that his shoulder joint had been missed. He couldn't be dealing with more operations or physio and time off work to try and patch it back together. And he had to recover so he could hold his baby girl without a struggle when she arrived.

With that thought in mind, Eddie carefully slid his hand over from (Y/n)'s hip until his fingers grazed along her stomach. His touch was light and delicate at first, but when (Y/n) didn't wince or groan or pull away, he pressed his palm down over her gown so he could cup her stomach.

"How's she doing?"

"Her heartbeat settled down this afternoon after the shock wore off… I haven't lost any fluid, and she keeps kicking me. They think she's gonna be fine."

Maddie had made her smile when she said (Y/n) was now special. Rather than bi-weekly checks, for the past two days (Y/n) had been getting almost hourly checks on the baby. When her heartbeat evened out this afternoon, they made a note of it.

Since the placenta and baby were still in place and her vitals were fine and (Y/n) hadn't lost any fluid, they were confident the baby was going to be just fine. But (Y/n) could still have checks throughout the day until she left, and she would be on close monitoring when she was discharged.

"Good, you had me worried."

"Me? What about you, you scared me Eddie. I thought- I thought…" (Y/n) knew exactly what she thought, but she didn't have the willpower to voice it.

She didn't want to say it outloud. It was hard enough to admit to herself that she thought Eddie wasn't going to make it to the hospital. The thought of having to go through life without Eddie wasn't something (Y/n) could contemplate.

She couldn't bring up Chris on her own. She couldn't go through labour and have this baby without him. (Y/n) couldn't do any of that without Eddie by her side.

Her lips rolled together tightly to stop herself from crying and she smothered her face in the side of his neck when his arm tightened around her waist. She could feel his fingers feathering up and down her stomach and he tilted his head to the side so he could kiss the top of her head.

"It's gonna take more than a bullet to take me away from you."

[in3rci4]

Can I get an Angst with all the boys, having a crush on gn reader who is new in town and heterochromia? ( If you can of course💕)

It's the first time I do a request fr 😭

It's ok , it's normal to be nervous when requesting if you're new or not used to it , hopefully I'll do my best with this one , enjoy it anon , thank you for sending your request 💕 !

°°°IT'S THE EYES . IT WAS ALL IN THEIR EYES °°°

Author's note : I been slow with publishing stuff because personal life is becoming more a survival than living , so sorry if it takes some requests too long to get done , but I'm slowly , yet surely , getting the ones I have done one step at the time .

Characters included in the following headcanons : Robin Arellano , Griffin Stagg , Vance Hopper , Finney Blake , Bruce Yamada , Billy Showalter

WARNINGS ! : CHARACTER X READER CONTENT , IGNORANCE / DISBELIEF ABOUT THE SYNDROME , BULLYING , THIS MIGHT BE SHORTER THAN EXPECTED , SOME MIGHT BE SHORTER THAN OTHERS , THERE'S PROBABLY SPELLING MISTAKES , GENDER NEUTRAL READER , CRINGE ¿? PROBABLY CRINGE , 2 SIDES , ONE WITH FLUFF , ONE WITH ANGST ( AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SO X READER TYPE OR BE A SENSITIVE TOPIC TO READ , ALSO THE CHARACTERS ARE MEAN ON THE ANGST ) TOXICITY ¿? DISCRIMINATION , MANIPULATION ¿? , ETC

ROBIN ARELLANO

≈ This guy is in love with your eyes , they're so unique , so badass , so special of yours , you're like a cool character of a movie or like a kickass villain

≈ Robin is a boy who loves everything that it's out of the normality , the more different , the more harder to forget , the better .

≈ If you felt insecure for your eye colors before then you'll be no more with him by your side ! He will compliment you without shame in front of others and he won't stop until you're all flustered and blushing

≈ But all jokes aside , once he get to know you and learned more about you , Robin will always remember you to not feel bad about your looks , it's not like you can control it , and it's nothing bad that you need to hide either

≈ if you want to buy contact lenses to match both eyes he won't stop you , but he'll be sad for not being able to see the real look in your eyes anymore

≈ He sometimes jokes about being jealous of your eyes , you get to have 2 colors and he only got 1 , that's not fair ! He wants to look just as cool as you

≈ You will always have his protection and support , no one will make fun of you , no one , and the one who dares to will feel a physical payment for playing stupid games in their faces

≈ Don't ever feel bad about yourself , because you'll have an annoying and romantic Robin making sure to bust your ego over the sky and taking photos whenever he can

≈ But that isn't so bad , isn't ?

GRIFFIN STAGG

° He's so sorry for being the ones who believed in the rumours it was contagious in the past , for being ignorant and avoiding you like the rest of the students

° Growing up he realized it was something stupid to think on , if it was contagious , then why nobody has changed eye colors yet ?

° Maybe you don't , but Griffin does remember well the day you two started to be friends

° The day you decided not to do anything in P.E class because you felt physically bad , and he , since nobody wanted him on their team , didn't lose anything by also not doing exercise either . You sat next to him , and started a casual conversation that turned out to be a funny exchange

° Casual conversations started to be more interested on each other's likes , conversations in each other's likes lead to gossip sessions , gossip became deep talks about the future and other corny shit that Griffin didn't thought he'll talk with someone ever

° He compares your eyes a lot with things , now that he learned to appreciate them , he can't stop remember you everytime a combination of color is the same as the look in your eyes

° You can say that your charm is contagious , and he's more than happy to be infected by love for you

VANCE HOPPER

♠ While others kids thought you were weird or cool , Vance thought you were a pretender

♠ Can you blame him though ? He hasn't seen somebody like you in his entire life , it's impossible for someone to have their eyes like that ! You must be using contact lenses or some shit !

♠ The evening he realized you weren't faking , he melted like ice cream in summer right there in front of you ( But you didn't noticed it )

♠ He stormed furious out of the mall when in a bad day he couldn't even get to the half of his high score , and accidently bumped into you . He looked into your eyes mad as hell , not expecting at all to see your pupils getting bigger , frozen about how fucked up it was to know that you truly had such a unique pair of eyes

♠ After an awkward time he slowly started to greet you " indifferently " , drawing you on his special notebook when the teachers didn't bothered him , and sometimes inviting you to watch him play Pin Ball when he felt cocky enough

♠ Hope you don't mind intense staring , because Vance is all about looking straight into your soul , he can't help it , or well , maybe he can because he can be a little of a tsundere

♠ To be honest he'll stare at your eyes all day if he could , but he's too of a dork to admit it , or decide if he likes it when you look at him or not due how flustered you make him feel

♠ And yeah , he will start a fight for you if someone dares to mock you , it's obvious , but it's a nice thing to think about

FINNEY BLAKE

∞ Finney is more curious than avoidant , he feels guilty for looking at you so much , you may had felt the hairy eyeball before and don't like it but , you're so .... Interesting ? Beautiful ? It's hard to describe

∞ Even for A or B you'll meet and trust my word , he's going to be respectful all the time he's with you . Only if you gave him permission to , he'll ask you more about your condition and how it exactly effects you , but don't worry , once he get all his doubts solved , he will move on and ask you about yourself

∞ He understands it yet he does not understand how someone could hate you by the color of your eyes , he doesn't even get racism and now we have people insult you by the color of your eyes ? By something you didn't choose to have ? Like what ?

∞ You're special ( and attractive he may add ) from the rest and that's gonna get more staring than someone else will have , sure , but he'll be angrily confused if someone bothered you in front of him , now we're bullying people for their genetics ? Come on man

∞ Finney would try to get you out of a uncomfortable situation , but if it persists , he might be verbally violent or push the person to tell them to back off and leave you alone

∞ Bonus : Gwen does the same with you , although she loves to tease Finney in your presence , she likes you though , she just does the " sibling annoying the other " things

∞ He has a special love letter that he never gave you were he used astronomy elements to describe you and the look in your eyes , but he was to embarrassed or afraid of rejection that he kept it for himself

∞ You read it , but you never told Finney and kept the secret

BRUCE YAMADA

★ Ignorance isn't a sin some people say , but he pity you when he first saw you and until this day he can't believe how dumb he was

★ Bruce mind was like " Aw poor kid they probably have problems with their vision " as if he knew what exactly condition you have

★ He felt like a dumbass the day you tapped his shoulder to tell him from really far away that someone was trying to steal his bike after one of his games

★ To thank you for the gesture ( ahem , and clear his mind from the guilt ) he invited you to watch a movie in the cinema ( Jaws 2 being his option and yours Star Wars 4 , you both watched the two of the movies because in one you sneak in between the crowd anyway )

★ after that movie night everything went smooth , until the point that neither of you acknowledge the fact that you still didn't confessed yet and were already lovey dovey with each other

★ He has the privilege to say he has a partner that has no comparation , there's no other you , and Bruce loves that

★ Bruce loves you and those special eyes that life has gave you

BILLY SHOWALTER

🔺 Billy knew animals could had two different colors in their eyes , but he didn't thought it was possible for a human too

🔺 It was a shame how nobody saw that special shine in you , or maybe they did , but they decided it was too bright for them and tried to turn you down

🔺 But you never let them took advantage of you , and he was proud that you know your worth and didn't let the negativity get you

🔺 He didn't stuttered or thought twice when you asked him on a date , you were his crush , of course he's gonna say yes !

🔺 Billy is not only an admirer of you and your lovely eyes , but a flatterer as well

🔺 At first , the compliments were accidents that escaped from his mouth before he noticed he was talking in loud voice , but with time , he became more and more confident to tell you how gorgeous you look , how you make him feel , his plans for the future , etc

🔺 If Billy has the chance to , he's gonna spoil the hell out of you , just to give you a material proof how much he loves you , so he can see that singular look in your eyes everytime you're happy , forever .

ANGST PART

They would love you of course , they can't control their hearts to stop beating for you every time you look at them or smile , but love sometimes ain't all rainbows and butterflies .

Now why or why you were born like this ? Why you couldn't just be normal ? Everything could be so perfect , so beautiful , if you didn't look different and just be like other people .

In a bad dream type of reality , they will cross the limits so they don't feel " ashamed " to be seen with you

BRUCE AND BILLY would suggest the idea of buying contact lenses to match your eyes with only one color , Billy being the one telling you that it's necessary that you should had them , BRUCE being the one who bought them without asking you first as a " gift " , thinking it was the best idea , after all , the two of you would look much better as a couple in people's eyes if you did

ROBIN AND FINNEY would keep you as their secret , no one has to know their feelings for you or your relationship if you ever had one , FINNEY afraid of having another reason to be bullied because of you or having his father mock his selection of partner , ROBIN because he's ashamed of liking someone that doesn't look " right " and is "pointed by God "

VANCE AND GRIFFIN would backstabbed you when you started to get used to the idea of having someone by your side , VANCE would mock you and insult you in front of his friends or people if that made him look better , GRIFFIN would act as if he doesn't know you when you needed him the most , without a feeling completely guilty for it , perhaps not even a little if that makes you and people's starting at him when he's by your side go away

It's just the way things are . It's how your eyes are .

[tpwk-formula1]

Hiii, could i order a Thin Crust with Red Sauce with Pepperoni, Green Peppers, Gouda Cheese, Parmesan Cheese and to drink an Boba, Coke, Mt. Dew (sub) and Root Beer with desert served by Lewis and Max <3

Pleasee thanks!!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brother's best friend red sauce rough sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" green peppers "I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” parmesan "Awe... did that hurt? Tuff luck I'm gonna do it again" boba anal coke spanking mt dew dom/sub root beer daddy kink dessert yes served by Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton

Max x Lewis x Norris! Reader

TW - fighting, slight daddy kink, rough, spanking, multiple orgasms, anal, double penetration, creampie, and anal creampie (is there another name for an anal creampie?)

WC 2500+

Y/N POV

"Max please leave me alone about it," I snap at one of my boyfriends after he had been complaining about the same thing for the past hour.

"I love you to death but you're complaining about my brother. I will not pick sides between you guys," I add on softly when Max just looked at my with a raised brow.

"I understand that and I'm not even upset with your brother he had a great race I'm mad about the car I've been fucking given," Max tells me back making me nod my head.

"I understand that, but you have to see it from my perspective. I love you both and I want both of you to do well and I'm sorry your car is actually shit but I don't like that you make me feel guilty for being happy for my brother," I explain back knowing this has been needing to be a conversation for awhile. Max, Lewis, and I have all been together for the past year and a half, this year specifically Max and I have been at each other's throats because being Lando Norris's twin sister has made it really interesting when he's doing really good but I also have to be supportive of my boyfriends who were starting to struggle a bit this season.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I make you feel guilty for being happy for Lando? You make me feel like shit everytime I talk about having a bad race and I can see it on your face it's like you don't even care because you brother did good," Max snaps back making me look at him with a dead stare.

"Max, I'm really sorry if I made you feel like that. It was never once my intention," I tell him softly wanting him to know I value his feelings even if I don't feel like he's even think about mine in this moment.

"It's whatever, I knew you would always have more loyalty to Lando anyways," Max says completely disregarding it like it was nothing.

"I think we just need to be seperated until Lewis gets home," I tells him softly while getting up from the couch and making my way into our shared room where I find Sassy and Rosco cuddling on the bed.

I climbed into the bed with them and fall asleep into a short nap wanting to forget this whole afternoon.

"I heard you and Max got into a fight," I hear Lewis say softly while rubbing my back to wake me up.

"He's been making me feel bad for being happy for my brother, and I've been making him feel bad because I'm happy for my brother. It's a lose lose and I want this whole season to just be over. Hope he gets the fucking Driver Championship and I never have to talk about this season again," I mumble making Lewis chuckle softly.

"I think you guys need to talk it out," Lewis tells me making me nod my head in agreeance.

"I'll go get him," Lewis tells me softly while leaving the room to get Max who was in the sim room passing time.

When they got back into the room I could see the frustration still lingering in Max's eye making me sit up a bit more ready for a serious conversation.

"Okay, let me just start with I think both of you have a right to feel the way you feel. Max you make her feel bad about being happy for Lando. She is allowed to be excited to see him win and support him in his fight for his first title. Just because she is extremely happy for her brother doesn't mean she wants you to lose either. She's in a tough spot. However, Y/N Max has every right to feel slightly hurt watching you go into the Mclaren garage after your brother had a good race while he struggled. It's selfish yes but he's allowed to wish his girlfriend was in his room comforting him," Lewis states making me grow frustrated.

"See, you said it yourself. It's fucking selfish is what Max is. I try to be there for him but everytime I am he's always shit talking my brother, and I get it, it's post race frustration coming out however I won't stand for that. Back in Baku when Lando finished 4th and you 5th I didn't even want to be in the same room as you when I heard you telling Lewis that being overtaken by Lando who started P15 was one of the most embarrassing moments in your career," I rant clearly getting frustrated with everything.

"Oh boo fucking hoo, grow up Y/N. You knew getting into this relationship it would be like this. I'm not gonna apologize for the things I say in the heat of the moment. I'm allowed to be mad and upset," Max says making me throw my hands up in defeat.

"Maybe I should go stay somewhere else for the night," I say softly while climbing out of bed to prepare a bag.

"That won't be necessary love, we can work this out," Lewis says softly following me into the closet.

"He's impossible right now, he's hurt I don't get to only be a fan of him. He has to share me with you and my brother. I get it, I would be frustrated too but I will not apologize for being happy for him," I tell Lewis softly making him pull me in for a hug.

"It'll work itself out," Lewis tells me softly.

"Go get back in bed," Lewis continues making me groan but slowly go back into our shared room and into bed next to Max who had Jimmy in his lap.

"Both of you need to fuck it out or fight it out, but neither one are leaving until you guys can come to an understanding. I don't give a fuck what it is but I will not let either of you leave until something is resolved. You guys have been fighting nonstop since before summer break and it's time to set aside differences," Lewis tells us while softly picking Jimmy up and placing him outside the room while making sure the other pets where out of the room as well.

"I'll start," I say softly making Max scoff and roll his eyes.

"You always fucking start," Max says clearly annoyed with everything.

"Cut the shit out Max or I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you," Lewis says clearly getting frustrated with Max.

"You can start," I tell him making him sit in silence for a few minutes.

"I don't know, I think Lewis is right, I am selfish and a part of me wishes that you can be a fan of me and only a fan of me. I don't even like seeing you walk around in Mercedes merch let alone fucking McLaren stuff. There's days where I wish you could just be a fan of me," Max explains softly making me smile lightly. It was the most mature conversation we had been able to have about this.

"I can understand that. I wouldn't like seeing you repping another team if I was a driver, however I wish you could see it how I do. I love you more than just about anyone in this world but that doesn't mean I don't love my brother and want to support him too. I think I have an idea," I explain to Max before thinking of a plan.

"What if when we come back next month in Austin I spent the whole weekend only wearing Max or Redbull things. I will of course still visit my brother and Lewis in their respective garage but I will only wear stuff for you the whole weekend, and then maybe next season we pick a day of the race schedule that I only wear Redbull things," I tell Max softly making his face light up at the thought of only wearing Redbull for a weekend.

"I would like that," Max says after a moment of thought.

"Can we please stop fighting about this? Whatever happens at the end of this season win or lose you and Lewis will still be my number 1s," I tell Max making him nod his head softly.

"Yes, and if we have further issues we talk it out with each other and not put Lewis in the middle of things," Max agrees and further comes up with a plan making me smile and nod my head.

"I love you Max Emillian," I say softly making Max groan at the use of his middle name.

"I love you too Y/N YM/N," Max replies back making me smile softly. I lean over to Max and pull him in for a kiss that quickly turns heated as he pulls me into his lap and lets me start grinding against him.

"I've missed you," I tell Max softly knowing that this season we have been so at odds that we haven't been nearly as close with each other as previous years.

"I've missed this," Max says with a groan leaving his voice when I start grinding down harder into him.

"You horny boy," I joke making both Max and Lewis laugh softly reminding me that Lewis was still in the room with us.

I turn my gaze to him to show him that I want him to join. When Lewis quickly climbs into bed with us my lips are on his within moments before he moves his lips down to Max's pulling him in for a heated makeout.

I start grinding into Max's lap a bit harder while begging for more.

"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want," Lewis groans against Max's lips before pulling me in for another kiss.

Lewis drags me off of Max's lap and strips me down to nothing before pushing me onto all fours where he starts laying harsh slaps on my ass.

"Daddy, Why," I whine out when I feel the spanks become progressively harder, leaving me to become a whimpering mess.

"You know that you're not allowed to leave in a fight. We agreed we would talk everything out. I'm gonna give you 10 more and I want you to count them out," Lewis said making me whine in retaliation.

"1" I call out softly when the first one lands on my right cheek.

""5" I gasp out after Lewis lands 4 hard spanks on my left cheek all landing in the same spot."

"It hurts," I cry out trying to shift my hips away only making Lewis grip onto them tighter to keep me in place.

"Awe... did that hurt? Tuff luck I'm gonna do it again," Lewis teased before landing another spank.

"6" I cry out when I feel another really hard one in the same spot. I'm only 6 in and I'm already a sobbing mess under Lewis.

"10" I gasp out after Lewis landed another 4 all in the same spot on my right ass cheek.

"Why did I punish you?" Lewis questions while pulling me up to his chest while he softly rubs my ass to soothe it.

"Because I got up and started packing a bag even though we agreed that I can't leave in the middle of a fight," I hiccup out into Lewis's chest still slightly crying from the pain my ass had endured.

The no leaving in a fight became a rule after our first fight when I just left the apartment mid-fight because I didn't know how to express myself properly and I became anxious when we fought. When I finally came back Max had tears streaming down his face and was fighting Lewis to report me as a missing person. After that, we had a long tough conversation about how we would be moving forward.

Max pulls me back up into his lap already stripped into nothing before easily sliding into me making me whimper. Lewis climbed behind me teasing my ass with a bit of cold lube before sinking 2 fingers into my ass to make sure I was stretched enough to take his cock.

"Fuck, Daddy," I whimper when Lewis pull his fingers out before shoving the tip of his cock into my ass making me scream out at the stretch of having 2 cocks filling me up.

"Oh my god," I moan out when Lewis starts pushing his thick cock into my tight ass.

Once Lewis was all the way into my ass both of the boys gave me a few seconds to adjust to the stretch but started thrusting into me when I started grinding my hips showing them that I was ready for more stimulation.

"Faster, please," I beg before leaning down and capturing Max's lips with mine while both boys instantly sped up throwing me over the edge and into a loud shakey orgasm.

Even once I had come down from my massive orgasm neither one of the boys slowed down leaving me to become a mess in their laps. I was shaking me moaning trying to get away which only made Lewis's grip on my hips tighten.

"Slower please," I gasp when I finally find my voice.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Max scoffs showing no clear signs of slowing down.

"Fuck," I moan when I feel myself starting to build to another orgasm.

"Look so pretty when you cry," Max says with a smirk making me whine slightly.

"God, she's gonna cum for us again," Lewis gasps when he feels my ass clenching around him in preparation for another orgasm.

"Cum for us," Max groans before pulling me down for another kiss making me scream into his mouth when I start cumming all over their cocks.

I could tell Max was cumming from the way his grunts turned into higher-pitched whines while his hips faltered slightly while filling me up.

Lewis wasn't too far behind sending one final harsh thrust before he was filling my ass up with his hot cum.

Once the three of us have come down from our highs the boys slowly slip out of my abused holes letting their cum leak and start to pool on the bedspread.

Lewis was the first to get out of bed grabbing a towel and some cooling lotion. He cleaned both Max and I up first before softly rubbing the lotion on my ass to help it cool down after the brutal assault Lewis gave me with his heavy hand.

Once the room was picked up a bit and Max and I were clothed and comfortably in each other's arms Lewis opened the door letting all three of our fur babies into the room. Sassy and Jimmy instantly crawled onto Max's lap while Sassy nudged my hand with her head clearly wanting some attention before Rosco and Lewis followed and comfortably got into bed with us. Rosco had found his way to me before he made himself comfortable on top of me making Lewis laugh and shake his head.

"The guy loves you more than he had ever loved me," Lewis jokes before petting his head and placing a soft kiss on my head.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

If you could say something to all TSAMS characters, what would you say?

that's a lot of characters QwQ so I'm not gonna include those who have their own show (Lunar, Earth, Eclipse)

but here we go!

Sun: "You've come so far and you're stronger and smarter than you think. You have survived this long for a reason. Your heart of gold will take you many places. Hold onto that hope."

Moon: "Can never forget about the things you did in the past, but what's important is what you're doing now. And despite it all, you're doing an amazing job."

Solar: "Glad to have you back, you have so many people who love you. Live this new chance at life to the fullest. But keep an eye on that temper of yours..."

Monty: "You are always hit or miss for me. A very wishy washy love-hate perspective. Stop being an idiot, don't get yourself killed. And for god's sake stop losing you damn legs-"

Molten: "Skrunkly. Spaghetti wire. Precious boi. Protects and must be protected."

Creator: "die die die die fucking die already you filthy bastard go drown in acid--"

Nexus: "Still hurt, angry, and disappointed. Yet I somehow can't bring myself to hate you. Yet. You'll get what's coming to you, eventually."

Jigsaw: "You deserve a happy ending, too."

Sven: "You must be protected at all costs, could you perchance adopt Jigsaw?"

Solstice (Dark Sun): "What the FUCK is your DEAL, man, what are you PLANNING--"

Bloodmoon: "Stay dead."

Killcode: "Glad you managed to live the life you wanted. If only you actually fought for it."

Computers 1 and 2: "I hate you both so much."

Spaniard (Computer 2.0): "I miss you, please come back, I know you won't be coming back but please come back QwQ"

Solar Flare: "You had a lot of potential, but it was sadly never explored. Your time was short but a lot of folks still love ya."

TCM: "Why are you relevant or important again?"

[jjkamochoso]

The Ballad of Nichirin Swords and Snakes

Angst, Fluff

Obanai Iguro x gn!reader

Obanai saved reader in the past—how will he act when they save him in the future?

Warnings: canon typical violence

Also I made up a replacement for Upper Moon 5 so yeah enjoy the story <3

You felt your body tremble with a blend of nervousness and excitement as the Demon Slayer headquarters came into your view. You had only been a Hashira for a year so this was your second semi annual meeting. You were eager to meet up with your teammates, if you could call them something as informal as that. You knew Sanemi Shinazugawa the best out of all of them since you had been working on your sword skills under his guidance, so you took up a spot next to him as the other members engaged in light conversation with each other. Taking in the beauty of Master Ubuyashiki's courtyard, your eyes caught a glance of someone in the tree above you. You recognized the heterochromatic eyes of Obanai Iguro, the Serpent Hashira. You’d had the biggest crush on him since the first time you met him, back when you were still a low ranking slayer. He was sent to take over a mission you and some others were sent on because the demon had turned out to be a Lower Moon, something you certainly weren’t equipped to deal with at the time. You were the last one alive and losing strength quickly. Obanai was sarcastic and harsh, sure, but boy, was he handsome. You remembered how he didn’t treat you with kindness but you definitely didn’t face his wrath like other slayers had mentioned. You would never forget how his bandaged face muttered out, “You kept the demon busy all this time? Hmm.” That was rumored to be one of the nicest things he had told anyone, especially while on the job. He wasn’t known for his tolerating of any failure or weakness, so you were shocked that he didn’t berate you. You hoped he still held a small shred of respect for you in the present day--if he knew you existed, that is. Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized you’d been staring until he tilted his head, signaling his uncertainty of your actions. You quickly averted your gaze back to the group, the warmth of embarrassment flooding your face. You were saved by the arrival of Ubuyashiki’s children who announced that the man himself was here. You and the rest of the Hashira were immediately on your knees, bowing to show your utmost respect. You felt your heart rate speed up when you spied Obanai’s striped haori next to you. He must’ve taken up the spot when he jumped from the tree.

You were quick to greet the man in charge. “It’s an honor to be graced with your presence, Master. I’ve been praying for you to have good fortune in your strength and health.”

“Thank you, young Hashira,” he replied, “I’m overjoyed to see no loss of my children at this time of meeting. I hope to continue this streak of you all coming back to me.”

Ubuyashiki then delved into the details of various demon happenings around the area, updating you all on pertinent information. When the meeting was adjourned, the Master called for you to speak with him.

“And you, too, Obanai.”

Huh?!

You couldn’t hear your thoughts over the pounding of your heart. Your feet felt like they were made of cement as you begrudgingly walked over to the scarred man, unsure of what was happening and not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of both your crush and your boss.

“Come, come. You’re not in trouble. I have an… odd request, but you two are the ones I trust the most to do this task.”

“Anything you ask of us, Master, we will do,” said Obanai, bowing his head.

“Thank you, Serpent Hashira. Now, you and the Moon Hashira are to extract and guard an ancient demon slayer artifact. You'll know which one it is when you touch it. It is of utmost importance that it doesn’t fall into the hands of demons. Your crows will give you more information but I suggest you rest up for a few hours. This will not be an easy task.”

“Yes, Master,” you both replied, bowing as Ubuyashiki took his leave. Thankfully you didn’t need to talk with Obanai because he was gone in the blink of an eye. You went to the kitchens to eat a hearty meal before you were sent off. If the Master said it was going to be difficult, you knew you were in for a strenuous mission and needed all the sustenance you could get to keep your strength up. After your meal, you went to a guest room in the estate to lie down for a bit.

After a few hours, your crow appeared on your windowsill, barking orders and spouting information about your mission. You were to get going immediately so you packed a light bag and set off in search of Obanai. You didn’t have to look very hard since he was standing a few feet from your door. He took off wordlessly, Kaburamaru seemingly laughing at your attempts to keep pace with the speedy man. You trailed behind him for the next 6 hours, trying your hardest not to lose sight of him. How could someone move so fast, even with a big snake around their shoulders? Finally, you came to stop right outside the latest village you walked through.

“We sleep here for the night. I’m leaving at sunrise so don’t get left behind.”

“Alright,” you replied, setting your bag down and pulling out some food. As you ate, you felt your mouth being pulled into a frown when you thought of today’s events. Obanai didn’t talk to you once until the moment he stopped walking, and even now, he disappeared into a tree and left you alone. Did you offend him somehow? Did he really dislike you that much that he couldn’t be bothered to so much as spare a glance behind him as he traversed the trails? You definitely weren’t looking forward to the next day of journeying with him.

The next morning, you were ready to go right as the sun shone above the horizon, lighting the area up in golden rays. You watched the beauty in silence, the faraway star being your only companion at the moment. You let out a sigh as you saw Obanai jump out of the tree and land next to you, his feet barely making a sound.

“Let's go."

He was off without another word, just like yesterday. Today, though, you were able to match his pace and walked side by side with him until the sun started going down and you reached your destination.

"This place gives me the creeps," you shuddered, as you approached an old, run down shed a few miles from the nearest village.

"If this scares you, how are you a Hashira?" he sneered, glaring at you.

"Because I'm scared out of my mind but I'd never dream of running away. That's why," you answered, not bothering to look his way. To your utter surprise, he laughed.

"Stay out of the way, then, if you're so fearful. I don't want to have to protect you again like all those years ago."

So he did remember!

You wanted to send a snarky remark back but you were interrupted by a loud boom coming from inside the shed. You both perked up at nearby demons triggering your senses and making you go on high alert. Obanai pushed past you, his sword glinting in the pale moonlight. When he rushed into the shed, you noticed it had gotten quiet--too quiet. You had sensed a great number of demons, but now it seemed like they were gone. There was no way that was possible, though, so how did they conceal themselves?

"While you stood there and stared, I killed the demon. Make yourself useful and hold this," Obanai said, exiting the shed and throwing you a pouch. Your curiosity got the better of you and you opened it to see what the artifact was that you were supposed to be guarding. It was a square sword hilt, black as the night, and heavier than expected.

"That's it? This seems too easy."

"Because you didn't do anything."

"It didn't help that you told me to stay out of the way," you argued.

"Good thing or else we'd be here all night. I'm leaving and I advise you start walking. I'd hate to leave you alone out here in your frightful state."

You tried your best to contain your anger at his snide remarks. "You can go ahead, Iguro. I'm staying to investigate the shed further. Something doesn't seem right here."

"I told you, there's nothing left to see. You want to waste your time, that's fine, but don't waste mine. I'm going back to the Master."

"Then take this with you," you said, throwing the pouch at him with such force that it actually made him stumble back. You ran into the shed. It was pitch dark, but there was a gas lamp in the corner that you used for light. The walls erupted into an orange hue and you were happy to be able to see better, not to mention that it made it less spooky inside. You quickly rummaged through the endless piles of trinkets strewn about. It was an odd place for sure, and you wondered if you were even in the right spot, but you knew your crow wouldn't lead you astray. After going through every crevice, nook, and cranny, you sighed. There was no sign of an artifact that gave you a certain feeling like Ubuyashiki mentioned. You went to turn off the gas lamp and leave, but your eyes caught a glimpse of something in the corner that didn't seem to be there before. Was that--

Was that a nichirin sword?

Before you knew it, your body was thrown from its upright position into a crumpled mess on the floor. A massive demon had run at you from outside, breaking through the wall of the shed and tackling you. Even though you were dazed, you didn't let that stop you from fighting back. You kicked at the demon with all your might, sending him flying across the floor. You pulled out your sword and steadied your breathing. You didn't know where Obanai was, but you knew he could handle himself, so you tried not to worry. The demon was back on its feet in no time, getting ready to attack again. He sprinted at you, claws ready to strike. You countered his claws with a loud clang reverberating through the air.

"The hilt wasn't the artifact," said Obanai, through gritted teeth as he joined the fight with you, "it was the demon. He's a shapeshifter."

"Am I allowed to say I told you so?" you asked, swinging your sword.

"Don't get overconfident in your words or skills," he replied, sending a powerful strike to the demon's leg. "He's an Upper Moon. Replacement for 5."

That startled you, to say the least. You didn't think you were prepared to fight such a high ranking demon, but it was much too late to doubt yourself. The demon's eyes, their writing now very apparent, kept staring at you menacingly, but you wouldn't allow yourself to get intimidated, so you focused back on the task at hand.

"I found the actual artifact. It's a nichirin sword in the corner."

"That's not yours!" screeched the demon, baring his fangs. "That's mine! I'll kill you before you filthy demon slayers take it from me."

"We'll see about that." Obanai then addressed you. "Find the sword and get out of here. I'll take care of him."

"But-"

"Don't argue! Just do it!"

You nodded, scurrying to the corner of the now collapsed shed, digging through the debris to find the sword. You were starting to freak out. Where did it go? Why couldn't you find it? Nervousness was overtaking your body. If you failed, you'd disappoint the Master. You'd disappoint Obanai and the other Hashira. You'd disappoint yourself.

That wasn't going to happen.

With a burst of energy, you threw a chunk of the broken wall out of the way. The sword, having seen better days than its rusty, dull condition it was currently in, was lodged in place. You pulled at it with all of your strength, but it wasn't budging. You turned to look at the fight going on behind you, and things weren't looking good there either. Obanai was getting overwhelmed by the relentless attacks of the monstrous demon and looked to be wounded. You heard him grunting in pain as he used his sword and his techniques were getting sloppy. If you weren't panicked before, you definitely were now. You aggressively yanked on the handle of the sword, sweat making your hands lose their grip. The demon laughing brought your attention to the fight at hand once more, and you gasped. He was ready to strike Obanai with a devastating blow! At that moment, it was like everything moved in slow motion. You felt the sword give way, free from its confinement, and you wasted no time running at the upper rank demon as fast as your tired legs could move you.

"Iguro! Watch out!"

Your body was on autopilot. You knocked the small man out of the way right as the demon swiped its hand down, eager to behead the Serpent Hashira. You didn't notice before, but you hadn't switched out your swords; you were still holding the rusty one! Horror dawned on you as you realized your sword, sharp and ready for battle, was not the one you were using, but you couldn't falter. You braced the old sword under the unyielding strength of the demon's hand, holding it above your head as he desperately tried to reach for you, but you wouldn't allow him to get any closer. You planted your feet into the ground and prepared yourself to go on the offensive.

"Moon breathing, second form-- lunar onslaught!"

You noticed the sword become lighter in your hands, you saw the demon's arm lying on the ground, and you heard the demon wail in disbelief. You couldn't waste time wondering how such a dull sword cut through a powerful demon, so you continued fighting with all you had. You parried all of his slashes with ease, your determination never faltering, and you cut off his other arm, along with a leg. Standing over him, you pointed the sword at his neck.

"Would you prefer to die by this blade or my own?"

"You wretched slayer!" he shrieked, almost foaming at the mouth in anger. "You nasty human! You can't kill me! You can't!"

You brought your blade in a downward slice, separating his head from his body.

"I just did."

You collected your own sword from the ground as the demon kept chattering on, complaining about how unfair it was to die. You ignored him in favor of seeing Obanai, who was receiving gauze from his crow to patch up his wound.

"You used the artifact that we were supposed to guard to kill a demon?" he asked, venom present in his tone.

"I didn't mean to!" you exclaimed, defending yourself. "My sword was unavailable at the moment. If I waited a second longer, you would've been kil-"

"I was fine!" he barked, casting his gaze downward. "I didn't need your help."

"Oh really? I think we both know that's not true." You met eyes with Kaburamaru. "Even he agrees with me."

"Traitor," Obanai muttered to his snake, the reptile seemingly sticking his tongue out in a mocking manner.

"You two make me sick!" the demon piped up, his head turning to ash. "I wish my eyes and ears disappeared first so I didn't have to witness such disgusting lovesickness between humans."

"I wish your mouth went first," you replied to him as he finally fully withered away. You were about to say something else to Obanai but you saw him quickly turn his back to you. Did you just catch a glimpse of a blush on his face?!

"Let's get back to the mansion at once," he said, walking away from you. As per usual, you had to run to catch up to him.

"I'm sorry you got hurt," you told him after hours of walking in silence.

"Me too."

"I'm glad you're ok-"

"You've improved your swordsmanship," Obanai interrupted, your eyes widening in surprise at the compliment.

"Oh! Yeah, um, thank you, I've been working hard at it."

He hummed in acknowledgment.

"Actually," you continued, "Shinazugawa's been helping me with my form, which has most likely contributed to my furtherance of the skill."

Obanai stopped abruptly.

"Shinazugawa's been helping you?" he asked in a scarily low toned voice.

"Is... is that alright?" you replied back, unsure of why Obanai was acting so strangely. He almost seemed jealous, though you wouldn't know for what reason.

"I don't want you going near him anymore," he snapped, his eyes ablaze with hatred as he kept walking, this time even faster than before.

"Wait, Iguro, you can't order me around like that. If he wants to teach me to be a better Hashira, I won't stop learning under him. At least he actually talks to me, unlike you." You said the last sentence under your breath and it became so quiet in the dark of the night that not even the cicadas dared to utter a sound.

"Oh? He talks to you? Whenever your wedding happens, I won't come."

"What is your problem?" you demanded, exasperated from his immature quips.

"My problem is that you deserve each other and I don't have a chance!" he all but yelled, not meeting your gaze. "My problem is you deserve someone so much better than me, yet I can't let anyone else have you. My problem is I failed tonight and you had to save me when I should be protecting you."

You were a total mix of emotions at his confession. You were elated that he also found himself in the throes of love with you, but you were upset that he was so hard on himself.

"Obanai," you said softly, "Shinazugawa and I are just friends. You're the man who has captured my heart."

"Please don't play these childish games with me, L/n," Obanai grumbled. You grabbed the oversized sleeve of his haori, forcing him to look at you.

"I'm not joking. I've fallen for you over the time we've known each other, even if we haven't exchanged many words. Ever since that day you saved me all those years ago, you hadn't left my mind or my heart. When I saw you for the first time in months at the Master's courtyard, it was hard to breathe with you right next to me because of my deep affections. But this whole time, I thought you hated me and I didn't know how to bear it."

The Serpent Hashira went quiet, letting his actions do all the talking for him. He slowly reached his hand out to your face, resting his thumb on your cheek. Your eyes closed at the sensation of his gentle caress, finding it hard to believe that this was really happening, but accepting it nonetheless.

"I don't know how to love," he eventually spoke up, his blue and yellow eyes boring into your own, "but I will learn. I will learn for you."

[girlkisser13]

about you

"do you think i have forgotten?" "do you know think i have forgotten about you?"

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings/tags: angst with a hint of fluff at the end. set in tfatws. the reader refers to bucky as james.

summary: you reunite with the love of your life.

in the heart of brooklyn, under the soft glow of streetlights, you and your fiancée, james buchanan barnes, shared what would become your final night together. the air was thick with the unspoken fear of the unknown, the looming threat of war, and the desperation of a love that had yet to fully blossom. you clutched his hand tightly, your engagement ring glinting faintly in the darkness, a symbol of a future you both hoped to see.

"promise me you'll come back, james," you whispered, your voice trembling.

he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "i promise. i'll always come back to you."

your goodbye was marked by a kiss, full of longing and fear, sealing a promise that fate would soon break.

your story took a darker turn shortly after his departure. selected for the super-soldier serum experiments, you underwent the same harrowing transformation as steve rogers, albeit with an added layer of peril.

the government was eager to see how the serum affected women, and you became their prime subject. the serum coursed through your veins, granting you strength and agility but also a burden you hadn't anticipated.

when steve plunged into the icy depths, you were there, fighting by his side until the end. you were frozen alongside him, your life suspended in the cold embrace of time. decades passed before you were discovered, thawed out much later than steve, only to find that the world you knew was gone and the man you loved was presumed dead.

years blurred together as you tried to find your place in a world that had moved on without you. you worked alongside steve, fighting new battles while mourning the loss of your past life. the pain of losing the love of your life never dulled, a constant ache in your heart.

when steve found out he was alive, it was like a jolt to your system. the news was almost too much to bear, a mixture of hope and dread.

"james?" you whispered, your heart pounding.

steve looked at you, his eyes filled with sympathy. "he's alive, but he's not the same."

your world tilted as you absorbed the news. you had to see him, to know for sure.

when you finally found him, the man you loved was a shadow of his former self. broken, haunted, and unrecognizable.

"don't tell her, steve," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "i don’t want her to see me like this."

"it's too late," you said, stepping out from behind steve. your voice was steady, but your heart was breaking.

his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the man you had loved. "james," you whispered, your voice trembling.

his breath hitched at the sound of his name, but then his face hardened. "you shouldn't be here," he said, turning away.

you reached out to touch him, but he flinched, stepping back. "james, please..."

"i'm not the man you remember," he said, his voice filled with pain. "i don’t want you here."

with those words, he walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart shattered into pieces. years had passed since that painful encounter, but the memory still haunted you. you had thrown yourself into your work, trying to forget, but he was always there, a ghost in your thoughts.

when sam called you for backup, you didn't hesitate. you were a soldier, and you knew how to bury your emotions when the mission demanded it. but as you made your way up to zemo's apartment, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach.

stepping into the room, your eyes immediately locked onto his. his breath hitched at the sight of you, but you didn't acknowledge him, focusing instead on sam and zemo. the four of you discussed the game plan, the tension in the room palpable.

as you all geared up, he pulled sam aside. "why didn't you tell me she was coming?"

sam shrugged, giving him a knowing look. "i figured it was time you two talked. she's all you ever talk about anyway."

he glanced at you, your eyes meeting briefly before you quickly looked away. his heart ached at the distance between the two of you, a distance that seemed insurmountable.

this unspoken chasm seemed to vanish, though, when the fight with the flag smashers erupted. the fight was intense, the chaos of battle a familiar comfort. you moved with the grace and precision of a trained warrior, your super-soldier abilities making you a formidable opponent. but you could feel his eyes on you, always watching, always worrying.

at one point, someone came at you with a gun from behind. seeing the danger, he rushed over and knocked the attacker unconscious.

"james, i can take care of myself!" you snapped at him, your irritation clear.

"i know, but i just worry about you," he replied, his voice soft, almost pleading.

you scoffed, your eyes narrowing. "you didn't seem to care about me when we last saw each other. why do you suddenly care now?"

he opened his mouth to respond, but you had already turned away, your heart aching with the weight of your unresolved past.

after the battle, he found you leaning against a wall, catching your breath. he approached slowly, his steps hesitant. "y/n, can we talk? please?"

you looked at him, your eyes guarded. "you have five minutes."

he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "i'm so sorry for how i treated you. i was lost, and i didn't want you to see me like that."

"when steve told me you were alive, i was terrified you wouldn't remember me. that you wouldn’t remember us," you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

he reached out, taking your hands gently in his. "do you really think i could ever forget you? the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that kept me going when i was being brainwashed. i kept imagining our wedding, our life together."

tears welled up in your eyes as you listened. "i did the same thing."

"i always hoped i would find my way back to you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"then why did you leave me?" you asked, your voice breaking. "if you loved me as much as i loved you?"

he looked down, shame flooding his eyes. "i wanted to find the man you fell in love with. that's why i went to wakanda. i needed to be better for you."

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "you could have asked me to come with you. or at least said goodbye. do i really mean that little to you?"

"no!" he said vehemently, his grip on your hands tightening. "you mean everything to me. i was just... i was afraid. i didn't want you to see me like that, to see how broken i was."

he dropped to his knees, still holding your hands. "i’m on my hands and knees y/n. just like i was when i asked you to marry me. please, give me another chance."

a tearful laugh escaped you, and you pulled him up, looking into his eyes. "i forgive you, james."

he cupped your face, leaning in to kiss you passionately. when you broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours. "god, i've missed you."

you laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "i've missed the sound of your laugh."

his eyes closed in a dazed smile as you touched his face. "i missed your eyes."

he opened his eyes at your words, the warmth of your touch making him smile.

he kissed you again, the world fading around the two of you. but just as you were lost in each other, a familiar voice interrupted your moment.

"hey lovebirds, we've got work to do," sam called out, smirking.

you broke apart, smiles on your faces. he took your hand, squeezing it gently. "we'll finish this later."

you nodded, "yes, we will."

as the two of you regrouped with sam and zemo, the weight of your past began to lift, replaced by the promise of a future you could finally begin to build together. he couldn't stop looking at you, his heart full for the first time in decades.

"are you okay?" sam asked, his voice low enough for only him to hear.

he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "yeah, i think I will be."

the battle wasn't over, but the both you had already won something more important. you had found your way back to each other again. and together, you could face anything.

last that night, after the dust had settled and your enemies were subdued, the two of you found a quiet corner away from prying eyes.

"i can't believe you're really here," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you smiled, leaning into his touch. "i'm here, james. and i'm not going anywhere."

he pulled her into his arms, holding you close. "i love you. i’ve never stopped loving you."

"i love you too," you whispered, your voice full of emotion.

you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, knowing that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but at least you would face it together.

"james," you whispered, the name rolling off your tongue like a prayer.

you were the only one who still called him james, a name that reminded him of a simpler time, of the man he used to be. he closed his eyes, savoring the sound. "i love it when you call me that."

you smiled, resting your head against his chest. "you'll always be james to me."

he held you tighter, his heart swelling with love. "and you'll always be my everything."

in that moment, surrounded by the chaos of a world that had changed so much, the two of you found solace in each other, your love a beacon guiding the both of you through the darkness. and as you stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, you knew that no matter what came next, the two of you would face it together, just as you always had.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

SOMETIMES, you'd like to know who your mother was before she became your mother.

You want to know where the acidic and corrosive elements that precede each of her statements come from. Perhaps she acquired it from your father—someone even more poisonous than she was. However, from how it blended with her expression every time she said: “a man’s heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing!” you can't be convinced otherwise that before she met your father, she wasn't like that—that she was once a loving girl before he wrecked her and made her your vengeful mother.

Time heals all wounds, they say. And yet, as far as you know, your mother's is still dripping with blood. Rotten. Maggot infested.

You believed it was exactly what she wanted—so that it wouldn't heal, so that she wouldn't forget how much it burned and constricted her. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, and she will undoubtedly carry it with her until death. “A man's heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing,” she says, as if she's sure you'll forget what happened to her—to both of you. As if losing the love of her life was hereditary. “Don't you see, sweetheart? We are a paradox of contrasts and twins.”

You're still wondering whether it was a warning or a prayer. Good mothers ensure with all their body and soul that the past does not repeat itself, that their daughters do not embody everything they might become – their mothers. God forbid they dragged themselves across the floor, trembling fingers stretched stiffly clawing at doors that had been long since being slammed shut. However, your mother wasn’t always a good mother, and she often swore over her mother's grave that you would feel the same way she did.

And yet, despite her curses and how much you hate her as much as you hate your deadbeat father, apparently a sense of familiarity is what you're searching for.

Perhaps, that’s what made him catch your eye.

Soft footsteps were created when several pairs of ballerina pointe shoes came down the hallway after the performance ended. Smiles and laughter were among them—a familiar sight; the audience was satisfied with their performance, and they were sure that the ballet director had no more notes for them because, firstly, Marie, the main ballerina in the role of Giselle, had become the center of conversation thanks to her gifted movements, leaving no room for talking about little "building" errors for the other dancers. Second, this season has reached its end, which means they won't be showing "Giselle" again for at least the next few months.

“I saw you sneak chocolates before the show, El.” One ballerina teased.

“They're for energy!” Eloise insisted with a grin.

The ornaments on their heads moved as they both laughed. You flashed a smile but didn't dare enter into the conversation. Satin-clad feet kept moving in the direction of the corps de ballet dressing room door. More laughter and gossip ensued as you passed through the door to the small vanity you shared with another dancer.

"So where are you going after this?" someone at the next table asked, not at you.

You turned around, periodically glancing in the mirror to wipe away the last traces of makeup. "I don't know! Somewhere that can help me relieve stress, obviously. Soph?” Claudine directed her question at another, still not you.

“Sorry, girls, but I have to sit this one out. My mamma has been protesting about me coming home late lately ever since she saw some protests on TV. You two have fun without me.” Sophia declines—that leaves Jules and Claudine alone then. You were ready to return to your own thoughts when Sophia's hazel eyes fixed on you and called your name. "What about you?"

Claudine turned to you, her lips forming a teasing smirk. “Gonna go home and practice some more, no doubt,” she teased. “Live a little for once! Come out with us.”

You focused on untying your pointe shoes while the other two laughed. “No thanks, I'm tired. Think I'll just relax tonight.”

Rather than a teasing smirk, now Claudine's lips resembled a declaration that she was correct once more: "Look, I'm right, aren't I? She's still the same boring girl. No surprise that the best role she can get is dancing as a leaf in the background." It's no longer a myth. It is no longer a myth that other dancers—old and new—only see a robot prodigy, soulless in her single-minded pursuit of perfection. Your movements were full of precision, tempered by years of being under the training of a Russian coach your mother sought out for you. And yet your body is sharpened for nothing more than the purpose of being a vessel. Hushed jokes about you selling your soul to the devil for your skills.

“Aww, not even for one night? Loosen up that tight bun of yours?”

You shoved the last of your things hastily into your bag, not paying attention as someone else's hairbrush and chapstick were forced to sit on top of your toiletry bag—you can always return them tomorrow. The other girls are still laughing while you swing the overstuffed duffel over your shoulder.

“Goodnight,” you say tensely, clutching the strap of your bag so tightly your knuckles turn white. Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your shoes and hurried out of the dressing room, their taunts echoing in your ears.

London streets glistened wetly as you made your way down the sidewalk. The recent rain left dark spots on the pavement. You pull your coat tighter around you, shivering in the damp night air. As you passed a rowdy pub, loud voices and laughter spilled out onto the street. Warm light and the smell of beer beckoned from within, but you hurried on without glancing in, not wanting to face anyone's eyes.

The entrance to the subway glimmers under the streetlamps. You descend the stairs slowly, your shoes clicking on the concrete steps. The underground platform was nearly empty at this late hour. A lone figure dozed on one of the wooden benches, and a teenage couple whispered together further down the tiles. Your eyes roam over the tiled walls and ads for shows you'd never see—anything to avoid looking at other people and risking a confrontation.

The screech of brakes announces the arrival of your train, followed by beams of lights illuminating the dark tunnel. You boarded the mostly empty carriage and sat down, watching the dark tunnel walls pass by. On the opposite side, your weary reflection in the glass glances back at you.

Soulless.

Soulless ballerina.

TWENTY-THREE YEARS HAVE GONE BY: Thirteen times, you were part of the corps de ballet in Swan Lake. And now, the new director—whom they “imported” directly from somewhere in France to replace the old one—announces that the next season will be Swan Lake. You don't have anything against it—why should you? Thirteen times. Thirteen times in the corps de ballet, and this time will make no difference to you; just another faceless dancer in the flock, never the Swan Queen—they wouldn't risk a soulless ballerina in the spotlight. But wouldn't audiences grow bored of the same classic retold so often?

"Now now, I know you are all tired of this ballet," he said calmly. "But we will be doing something different - a new interpretation, with a fresh artistic vision. This will be Swan Lake as you have never seen it before. Rehearsals will focus on bringing new emotional depth and dimensionality to these iconic roles. Who knows – maybe some new faces will emerge for leading roles. I’m looking forward to seeing what you all can do. Now let us begin."

The familiar piano notes of our warm-up piece drifted through the studio as you took your place at the barre, fingers curling around the worn wood. You close your eyes and focus on steadying your breathing. Even when your muscles hurt from fatigue, you persist through well-known stretching exercises with a focused effort. Your eyelids flutter open, and out of the corner of your eye, you see the new director watching silently at the edge, his sharp eyes taking in each dancer.

“One.. and.. two.. and..”

As you move on to tendus and plies, you let the rhythm of the count wash over you – “.. three.. and.. four.. and..” Your burning thighs, your stretching calves, your flexing toes. "First position...and plié. Second position...and tendu. Third position...and rond de jambe." and the coach's familiar count. Your mind wanders as the dancers continue, thinking about the director's words about seeking new depths. Stealing a glance through the mirror, your eyes returned to the man—his ringed fingers in front of his lips as he pondered.

The music continues to play, swelling with a crescendo. You concentrate on your movements again, lifting your legs high according to standard and extending your lines through fingertips.

You found your eyes drifting to the director's reflection in the mirror more and more. The coach's voice faded into a blur as you studied his intense expression, watching for any sign of interest or approval. But time and again, his gaze passed over you without pause, lingering instead on Claire or Amelia as they executed perfect pirouettes or graceful penche poses. A familiar ache of longing and envy twisted in your stomach. No matter how hard you focused or how flawlessly you hit each position, you remained invisible to him.

Your breaths are shallow, and your head is whirling. Your eyes couldn't stop following him; he was walking around watching dancers who weren't you. He spoke to the coach, then stepped back with his hands linked behind his back. Still not you. As the music nears the end and the dancers have transitioned into combination movements, he still doesn't look at you.

You know the truth: this will be your fourteenth Swan Lake, and you will once again blend into the anonymous corps de ballet. The reflection of a woman in the mirror—your reflection, somber with lifeless eyes and dull hair pulled back in tight bun. The director stated that he wanted to bring forth new depths and emotional aspects to distinguish his Swan Lake from those of other opera houses, therefore it's fitting that he didn't choose you. As an empty ache expands in your chest, you accept the truth: this is your fourteenth Swan Lake, being another swan for the fourteenth time.

The director won’t choose you.

He won't choose you.

He won't choose...

You.

He chose you. You don't know why or how.

An hour later, you find yourself standing in Studio A, facing uncertainly across the hardwood floor. Five of the girls sat at the end of the room while the director watched Claire give her interpretation of Odette in her white swan act. You watch her movements critically, noting the slight wobble in her lower back and how her port de bras could be straighter. Her pirouettes needed more control and spotting—you counted two extra turns that threw off her balance. Then she launched into the black swan's sinister variations. Gone was the white swan, replaced by a vixenish temptress oozing sensuality from her pores. The director made a few thoughtful comments you didn't quite catch before dismissing her.

The director breathed out your name and you were quick on your feet. He crossed his arms over his chest as you took your place in the center. You looked at the girls behind you through the mirror reflection, then at the director, then signaled the pianist to begin.

The famous White Swan melody plays, and you start. Plie, tendu, glissade—your limbs moved through the steps as they had a thousand times, polished, technically perfect. Your movements rely on muscle memory, analyzing your every move through a critical lens. First pose: left arm extended, back straight, neck long. Check. The second one: right leg stretched to the sky, toes pointed to the max. But was your ankle tilted just now? You furrowed your brows while making a mental note to adjust. Entering another glissade, you land on the ball of my foot, keeping your plie low. One.. and.. two. You count the seconds, nitpicking any imperfections.

“Slow down, dear, find your breath.” The director's voice cuts through your thoughts. Find your breath? You were in complete control of your breathing, hitting every mark precisely as the music demanded. What more should you find?

You barreled ahead through the choreography, unwilling to let up on your own rigid standards even as he continued offering feedback. "Loosen your shoulders...savor each moment rather than rushing to the next...let us see you feel the music, not just hear it."

But you are feeling it. You feel every crescendo and decrescendo—you stay in rhythm with the music as the score enters the ritardando section. How could he say you didn't feel the music when you lived and breathed each score? You knew this piece inside and out. From the opening notes, you have remembered not just the choreography but every key change and tempo variation. By the time you sank into your final pose, you were a bundle of nerves.

“Your technique is superb, but so tightly wound,” the director said. “Try to loosen up your lines and embrace the artistry, not just the steps. Now, show me your Black Swan.”

As the dark notes of the Black Swan coda swirl, you pour all your focus into hitting each precise movement with flawless technique. You arch into an arabesque, extending your working leg to the maximum while maintaining perfect turnout. Your spot was fixed, and your balance was unwavering. You continue through the practiced motions, and you fly into your final fouetté combo. As the last note faded, you struck your ending pose.

Slowly, you straightened your body and lifted your gaze to meet his, pressing your sweaty palms together tightly. The director remained silent, hand in front of his mouth, and looked you up and down in a way that made you want to flee. But, you restrained yourself, waiting patiently for his consideration. The pressure in the room was so intense that it made you suffocate.

After what felt like eternity, he gave a small nod – neither acceptance nor rejection. “Thank you, Mademoiselle, that was… illuminating. Please check the cast list tomorrow morning – we will announce our decisions then.”

The compliment is ambiguous, with two implications that you know tend toward the negative. Your anxiety failed to calm down, and all you could muster was a hushed thank you before you left the studio in a daze, questions still swirling around unanswered like always.

Now here you are, unfortunate enough to be under the wailing sky of London with minimal cover from a shuttered cafe. The dense fog and wind impede your eyesight, making it difficult to see the towering structures. On the left side, several cafes and pubs radiate their orange lights from within, beckoning anyone in need of somewhere to go for a quick drink or two. Anyone but you, apparently.

The city streets felt hauntingly deserted through the deluge of falling water. Shivering even in your coat and tights, you knelt down and tightened your scarf. Puddles of water begin to form in the potholes, and you desperately hope that the rain will stop soon; you still have a long ride home on the subway to prepare for tomorrow.

Just then, a splash of heavy footsteps caught your attention.

Through the sheets of rainfall, you glimpsed a tall figure hurrying down the sidewalk, taking in what little details you could discern. His leather jacket and boots, yet the way he hunched his broad shoulders against the storm conveyed a certain roughness. You squinted to make out his face, only to find it covered by a mask and a hood pulled too low. It's unsettling, but disturbingly, it makes you enthusiastically guess what lies beneath it—was he handsome or scarred? Young or weathered by experience? It intrigued you so much that you didn't realize he was only three steps away from you.

As the stranger approaches, you take more details that should have set off alarms. His all-black leather jacket may have been fine material, but it was worn and faded. And although broad-shouldered, his build spoke more of hardened muscle than gentility. Everything about him screams danger. When he drew up beside you, you intended to duck past and continue on your way.

But something held you rooted to the spot.

Now, two strangers stood side by side, between them were raindrops dragged cruelly by the cold wind. His towering figure was as still as a statue; for a man his size, he was skilled enough to be almost invisible, almost. The scent of him washed over you then—alcohol, but not the refined wines and spirits of high society. This was something rougher, meant to burn away thought rather than enhance it. Beneath that, cigarette smoke and a musky men’s cologne, attempting to cover something.

The man is still silent, and you should've taken this as your second chance to leave. There are only two possibilities for a man like him: a perverted stalker or a serial killer—most likely the latter, because for what reason would he decide to take shelter under the awning of a dark bankrupt cafe with a woman when the surrounding pubs are still serving happy hour?

While the stranger settles against the wall, you notice his large hand drift casually into his pants pocket. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in panic wondering what weapon he might pull out – a knife, or worse. All instincts screamed to run away, but your feet remained rooted to the ground, frozen.

“Nasty night.”

Your body comes to a complete stop. The air is forgotten, and you wonder if you really heard him speak just now or if you were just hallucinating. He has a roughness to his voice, gravels, and a low range with a hint of timbre muffled by his dark mask. Unknowingly turning toward him, you stared at his side profile until he met your gaze, and you swiftly looked straight forward again.

“Uh, y-yes, quite a storm,” You stuttered in reply, cursing your trembling voice. Gripping your duffel bag tighter, you tried not to say anything that might offend him.

Minutes pass, the rain as the only noise. Finally, he spoke again, "Subway, yeah?" Between the sound of the rain and his muffled ones, you tried hard to make out what he was saying. After fully understanding it, you give it a nod.

“Yes, the subway. Though it may be closed by now with the weather.”

The man pulled out a pack of cigarettes. From the corner of your eye, you knew he was taking off his mask. Your heart beats fast as you resist the urge to turn your head, settling to look at the dark street in front of you instead. Smoke wafts between you both, creating faint, short-lived tendrils in the air.

The two of you were in silence. You wanted to talk to him again but didn't know what there was to say; it could be that he just wants to smoke with a company, a quiet company. He let out a puff of fresh cigarette smoke, and you inhaled it all. Toxins are bad for the skin and lungs, and yet you're better off suffocating than giving the impression that you're disturbed.

“Subway's closed, like you said. No sense waiting in the wet.” He took the last drag and threw the cigarette butt into the gutter. “Come on then. Pub's the best place for now.” His voice muffled again – he had put his mask back on.

You hesitated at his offer, biting your lip as you weighed the options rapidly in your mind. On one hand, the rain shows no signs of letting up, and this awning provides only a little protection at best. But to follow a strange man through the streets, alone, allowing him to take you to a spot where inebriation may be present—where his worst pals might be waiting. Girls your age being spiked is something you hear about a lot.

Shaking your head, you manage a small smile. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I'll be right here. Best not to trouble you further on such a night.”

He tilts his head, his eyes peering from the mask's shadows as if reading your unspoken fears. Does he see the consideration behind your polite refusal—how now you are a vulnerable woman, and this relative anonymity without further conversation is a safe option, despite the discomfort? Within his dark eyes, there was a stirring that you didn't understand. Pity? Or mockery? Under his towering height and massive body, you were nothing but a frightened rabbit.

Gusts of wind drive cold droplets under the awning. You suppressed a shiver, hugging yourself tighter. “Really, I'll be fine. The rain can't last forever." A forced laugh follows your words.

You seize the chance to stare back at him. It was impossible for you to know what calculations were going through his mind, or what emotion lay beneath that mask. It's pretty unfair, you think, that he can hide under a hood that nearly makes him invisible in the dark of night while he can see all of you—a greasy-haired woman hoping the man in front of her will respect her dumb decision. It's the least he can do.

Just when you think this staring game would go on for another minute, he turns his gaze. “Suit yourself, love.” His voice comes out gruff, and your heart drops thinking you've let him down (but, for what?). "But you'll catch your death waiting in the rain."

A pang of guilt crashes into you as he turns his shoe the other way. For safety's sake, you rejected him, thinking you're being sensible; but there's an authoritative voice in the back of your mind telling you, "He's the first nice guy in a long time, and look what you gave in exchange for his kind offer." Self-doubt is playing in your heart. His back was already turning, boots squelching away into the rain.

“Wait!” You called after him, hating how small and frightened you sounded. He paused and searched back, eyes questioning through the mask. Steeling your nerves, you step into the downpour. “I'm coming with you.”

If this guy thinks you're an indecisive woman who can't even commit to a decision for more than five seconds, thank goodness he didn't say anything other than give you another stare. He led the way as he went, holding the door of one of the busy London pubs. More liquor and tobacco smells. You both entered, bringing a burst of damp wind with you. The warmth and noise within are a shock after the storm outside.

He steers you towards the fireplace, shrugging out of his soaked jacket. “Get yourself by the hearth,” he said, nodding to an empty chair. “Dry off.”

You did as he said gratefully, holding your hands out to the flames. The colors returned to your cheeks; fear slowly evaporated away.

“What'll you have, love?” He asked, and you frowned before understanding. Oh, drinks.

“Something light,” is all you say, eyes lowered again. The man gave a nod and went to give the bartender the order.

He returned not long after, setting the drinks down and taking the chair opposite to yours, stretching out his long legs toward the fire. You took the gin with a murmured “thank you.” He settled with his own—whiskey in a glass, neat. You glanced at the remains of rainwater dripping heavily from his clothes in a growing puddle at his boots. The drinks were enjoyed in companionable silence, still trying to find calm after the storm's fury.

The fire crackles merrily as you sit. Finding your voice, you clear your throat gently.

“Thank you, for…” Your fingers tapped nervously on the glass. “Well, for everything, I suppose.”

His eyes lifted from the flames to meet yours, and you offered a small smile. “I’m (Y/N).”

As the name slips out, you berate yourself. How stupid, giving up something as personal as your name! This man was still a stranger, no matter his kindness so far. For all you know, bad intentions could be lurking behind that calm gaze even now. But in the cozy glow of the fire, your sense of awareness wavered, lulled to sleep in a false sense of security.

He merely nodded, moving his hand to the mask hook over his ear without expressing much emotion. Your eyes widened, and your heart was pounding. The breath in your lungs stilled in anticipation as the fabric peeled slowly back, inch by inch. Is he about to...?

The man removed his mask, appearing at ease and lacking in secrecy. He looks at you, and you quickly look aside, pretending to offer him a little privacy. You wait for him to finish, to put it on again, but he never does. Is it okay to look-

Deciding to no longer be the uneasy one (since the guy looks completely unconcerned as he takes a long sip of his drink), you follow suit and allow the liquid to cascade down your throat. There's a slight thump as your glass hits the aged wood. Your curiosity is piqued even more by the fact that he hasn't made any moves to wear it again. Slowly, you raised your gaze, meeting that unveiled gaze – a secret not meant for your eyes.

Blonde eyelashes – pretty. Faint shadows hung under the eyes. Light stubble. Scars dotted his jaw, thin white slashes earned from unknown origins. His nose sat slightly off-center, clearly broken more than once in past altercations—bar fights, perhaps? Though something about the precise thinness of the lines didn't seem right for brawling. Regardless of which one, he is clearly no stranger to violence, and being near him is enough for someone to sense the danger he was capable of.

But, there is something about that powerful jawline, the intensity found only in his hooded eyes, spokes of steel and intricate details that defy explanation. Fire in his eyes. Even after taking off the mask and grasping it between his lengthy fingers—just when you think all the curtains have been exposed—he still remains a mystery.

(And you're just another gullible woman who believes she knows how to solve the puzzle.)

You wait; surely he will offer his own name in return now that you've bared yours. But seconds ticked by in the silence, and still he said nothing.

A flush crept up your neck at the realization that he had no intention of reciprocating. Did you misread this entire meeting? Why did he bring you here if not to talk? You observe his stony profile, wishing you could see past him. Did he intend to remain a mystery—an enigma full of intrigue? Or is it actually a test to see how long your curiosity can last?

Your fingers fidget with the condensation on your glass. Under this new tension, the easy silence fell away. Seeking an escape from the awkwardness, you looked for something, anything. Your gaze landed on a group of regulars in the corner, laughing boisterously.

“Do you, um, come here often?” You ask lamely, cursing your inability to make small talk. But there was an amused glint in his eyes that put you back at ease.

“Aye, I'm 'ere often enough,” he replied, taking another sip. You assume he finds humor in your discomfort, rather than mocking it. The knot in your shoulders loosened, and you relaxed into a smile again.

For good or ill, this man stirred something deep inside you—and you're desperate to scavenge for light, safe conversation topics to continue the conversation.

“So, um, what kind of work do you—” You catch yourself, cheeks warming. Too personal to ask a stranger met by chance. You let out a dry laugh. “Sorry, I don't mean to pry. It’s just… making conversation.”

At the small thud of his glass meeting the scarred wood of the table, your eyes darted up in surprise. Already empty—have you been so lost in thought that you missed him finishing? A swell of questions rose inside you as you watched his movements for a clue. Would he signal the bartender for a refill, extending your time together? Or was this the end—the strange encounter came to a close because you somehow offended him for prying too much?

“Military.”

Unexpectedly, he gave a single-word reply. Military—that explains a lot, from his physique and bearing to the scars and the lingering scents that cling to his coat.

"Oh!" was all you could think of as a response. More questions swim to the surface, demanding to be asked, but you quash them, not wanting to risk being presumptuous a second time.

Feeling indebted, you then offer, "I do ballet, with the Metropolitan Opera." The words slip out before you can check them, and inwardly you curse yourself once again. 

Great. Name, job, and workplace. Why don't you give him your address next?

You bit your lip. Risking a glance up, you hope he won't take your openness as foolishness. His quiet acceptance has so far calmed your nerves, and now you find yourself craving that ease again.

“Must be rewarding,” is all he offers—you grow accustomed to his terse responses. Plain, perhaps even half-hearted, but you smile as though he had read you a lovely poetry full of flattery.

“Yeah, it's really rewarding to dance and like, share that joy with others.”

Liar. What can a soulless ballerina have to share? So far, frustration is what you inflict on your director, and criticism is secretly a “reward” for your fellow dancers. You understand perfectly well, from the top of your head to the balls of your toes, that there is no joy that you can share. However, this man didn't know. He doesn't know who or how you are. Since the very beginning, you have spoken truth to him; allow this one deception to pass.

Your fingertips made a gentle squeak as they rubbed across the condensation on your glass. “If I may ask… what inspired you to serve?”

For a moment, he was quiet, considering with eyes turned to the flames.

"It was a calling, I suppose," came the gruff reply. “The world had its darkness even then. Felt a duty to stand against it.”

After providing an answer, the two of you returned to silence. You gazed thoughtfully into the flames, thinking of how you might spark another conversation that didn't rely solely on question and answer. The last thing you want is for him to view you as overbearing or pushy.

“What drew you to ballet, then?”

It was unexpected for him to pose a question, and you were taken aback when he did. Your lips curved into a smile as you thought about the answer, and your mother's role in starting it all.

"Well, I think it started because Mom thought ballet was 'cute'." A tone of amusement permeates your voice. “She had no idea about the art or discipline—she just wanted to see her little girl swirl and spin in frilly costumes. But I had fun dancing, dressing up, and listening to the music...”

Somewhere in your head, your mother's voice echoes again. Bitter and resentful, encased in an everlasting nightmare. Your mother stood in the audience, and you ran towards her, tutu skirt fluttering gently. She wiped her eyes and knelt down in front of you, whispering, "You were marvelous, sweetheart," as she drew you in. She smiles, but it stops short of her eyes. Then a string of apologies, saying that he’s gone—that she knew he had promised you to be here, but he's gone. Dad is gone. And he'll never see what you can do.

“My first real performance, in elementary school… I was so proud when the curtain fell.” You continue, remembering another face that has long been a ghost in the past.

("Why did you let that man walk away?")

You clear your throat softly. “After that, it just felt right, you know? Like I'd found where I belong.”

Liar.

Steering away from the bitter past, you change the direction of the conversation again. “Are you from around here?” It's a simple question, maybe even stupid. His accent alone makes it plain he grew up in this land, but, no matter how long you've lived in England, you have a small grasp of regional dialects within the country.

“I mean, I know you're obviously from here—your accent kind of gives it away.” You waved. “I just meant—is this area home for you? Or are you from elsewhere originally?”

The barest upturn of his lips catches your eye. Was that a smile? On this gruff, grumpy stranger who has only revealed so little so far? Your heart beats at the sight, rare as a summer snowflake. He reached into his pocket, took out a cigarette, and held it between his dry lips. The lighter ignited, and white smoke was blown out.

“Manchester, originally,” he said, intonation hanging. He took another drag of his cigarette before exhaling slowly and adding, “A different world now. You?”

“I've been in the city for years now, but I'm from San Francisco.” You said. “When the chance came up to transfer here from my old opera house back home, I leapt at it. Felt it was time for a fresh start, to spread my wings and live on my own. And maybe get out from under my mom's feet—love her to bits, but she can be a bit much sometimes.”

From your own remarks, you can't help but question if mothers are as harsh on their sons or if this is solely reserved for daughters. Girls are taught to keep close to home and their hearts, while boys are free to roam and explore. Is it any wonder, then, that spreading your wings felt like escaping? You wanted to ask him but ended up lacing your tongue tightly.

The fire's burned low, just embers burning gently in the fireplace. Time passed unnoticed as the two of you sat chatting quietly. But outside, the rain began to subside until it was a fine patter on the roof.

“Storm’s passed, seems.”

As he speaks, you glance up to find his guarded mask has fallen once more into place. The easy openness that had soothed tired nerves now closed again – strangely making you bereft. A feeling of melancholy welled up in your chest at the thought of parting, of kissing away the intimate bubble the two of you had crafted and going back out there into the cold reality where you would be strangers again. Your fingers fidgeted in your lap as you searched for words.

“I suppose you're right… it has eased off some.” Your voice came out small and awkward to your own ears. Licking your dry lips, you added, “thank you, for your company. It was…nice, not to feel alone.”

 He stood up, stretching his tall frame. After this, the spell of the evening will evaporate, and everything will return to the reality of loneliness once again.

“C'mon then, let's get you home,” he said gruffly, offering a hand to help you up. His strong hand envelops your smaller one—rough yet tender, sending warmth through your limbs that have little to do with the fire now dying.

Pushing through the heavy doors, the night air is a contrast to the warmth of the pub. Thick fog covered the streets, rain-slick stones glistening under the street lights. He waved at the first cab that passed—and you prayed it wouldn't stop so you could buy a little more time with him.

It stopped. The night was set to end.

He holds it while you slip inside. Through the open window, your eyes met his; he crouched beside the window, broad shoulders hunched. He's talking to the cab driver, but you can't hear it—not when your heart flutters madly in your breast over a single question. The ache of still not knowing his name. It seems wrong, unfair, that he knows you so well, yet you know nothing of him in return.

The cab lurches into motion, snapping the spell. Panic rises in your throat; you can't let him disappear into the night—to the back of your head like another passerby.

“Wait—please! I don't know your name."

Before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out in a desperate rush.

The second ticks by as you wait. He finds you foolish, for sure—just another desperate, nosy girl who wants to play detective the second she sees a puzzle. The clinginess in your request must have given the impression that you were a fool in love—gullible and name-obsessed.

Something shifts in his dark eyes, and you hope it's a wall crumbling away. Then, in his low rumble – “Simon.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, almost parting your lips in question before—

“Name's Simon,” he repeats.

(And the sun breaks through storm clouds.)

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

[calisources]

CHILDREN   OF   THE   NIGHT.   a   collection   of   quotes   and   scenarios   about   vampires.   change   pronouns/names   as   you   see   fit.   These   were   all   taken   from   different   sources   of   fiction,   both   in   literature   and   audiovisual   media.   all   known   triggers   for   vampire   media   apply   (blood,   death,   murder,   gothic   horror, obsessive love   and   more).

SENTENCES AND QUOTES. change pronouns and names, locations as you see fit.

"I took mythology a lot more seriously since I’d become a vampire."

“None of us really changes over time; we only become more fully what we are.”

"A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age."

"How do we seem to you? Do you find us beautiful and magical?”

"The strength of the vampire is that people will not believe in him."

"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!"

"The blood is the life!"

"Loving the monsters always ends badly for the humans. It's a rule."

“When people see good, they expect good. I don't want to have to live up to anyone's expectations.”

“Love is a vampire’s greatest weakness. And we are not weak.”

“You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one's better in bed.”

“For a hundred years I offered ugly death to everyone I met, and I did it with a song in my heart.”

"I'm not human. And I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world. That is my secret."

“I'm in love with a woman I can never have. The point is I'm in love with her and it's driving me crazy. I'm not in control.”

"Your life is pathetic. Your after-life doesn't have to be."

"Life sucks either way, Jeremy. At least if you're a vampire, you don't have to feel bad about it if you don't want to."

"You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure and even a little danger."

"Sometimes the world turns good people into bad people."

"People have been after me for a thousand years, but I'm always one step ahead."

"Mother made us vampires. She didn't make us monsters. We did that to ourselves."

"Perhaps one day, in a year or even in a century. You'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."

"Do you have any idea how rare love is? In a thousand years, I have found it but twice, and when I have, I have honored it."

"You're a vampire, sweetheart. I don't think you'll ever be okay again."

“When you feel the blood rush in, you tell yourself that you’re gonna get through it; that you’re strong enough.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to forget the past, Elena.”

“I wanna rip into your skin. And I wanna feed on your blood. Under your skin.”

“I just want one taste. That''s all I need. I just want one taste.”

“There’s the briefest of moments before we kill, where we literally hold their life in our hands and then rip it away, and we’re left with nothing.”

“Do you know the secret to immortality?”

“The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent.”

“He was my mentor, my murderer, my maker.”

“When was the last time you drank blood?”

“Left you with a bit of a craving, didn’t it? One day that craving is gonna grow.”

“That's cause you took my life! I got nothing. I lost everything. I lost my brother. I lost my family. About to lose the last fucking thing I care about.”

“And then I watched you pull over and drain a dog. And run down an alleyway for two more rats. This is not a life!”

“Hunting is an art. You have the power to subdue anyone you want, but sometimes restraint is your most powerful weapon.”

“What does this taste like to you?”

“There is one thing about being a vampire that I must fear above all else, and that is loneliness. You can't imagine the emptiness. The void.”

“Vampires are killers. Apex predators whose all-seeing eyes were meant to give them detachment. The ability to see a human life in its entirety.”

“Don’t underestimate the allure of the darkness. Even the purest hearts are drawn to it.”

“End of the day, human life is just a means to an end. Our means to our end.”

“A mutual law of nature is the strong always take from the weak.”

“It’s better to have a flawed life lived than wasted rotting away in clay.”

“Hatred, a pure and perfect hatred that’s greater now than the day I first took your life.”

“A thousand years of history isn’t going to write itself.”

“I can’t be killed.”

“I’m the monster lesser monsters fear.”

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you."

"You don't know what you are asking of me. To drink from you."

"You need blood, take it."

"To walk with me you must die to your breathing life, and be reborn to mine."

"I love you, Stefan. We will be together again. I promise."

"You loved me once, you will love me again."

"I made him. Did you know that?"

"I never compelled your love. It was real, and so was mine."

"What did you think was gonna happen? She would look at you, see your real face and give you a kiss?"

"I could swap this life of shame. Swap it out for a dark gift. You just have to ask me for it."

"Vampyrism is, by definition, an afterlife."

"I'm not the one who was sleeping with one vampire while half in love with another. Your morality is a moving target. Mine is not."

"A man damaged by his demons and those demons are not dormant, they are hell-bent on killing me and everything I find beautiful. And you, you are beautiful."

"You are stronger now. Meaner. Sexier."

"They are like vampire royalty. The oldest among us."

"He is the original hybrid. Half vampire, half werewolf."

"We both know I could snap your neck and do my nails at the same time."

 “Viktor. The oldest and strongest of us. That night, he made me a Vampire. "

"Stop fighting who you are."

"I'll tell you what I know about death, Camille. Death dances silently in everyone's shadow, and she doesn't give a damn."

"Turns out, I have complicated feelings for a monster."

ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. Add a +reverse for the inverse action. Change names as you see fit.

[YOU ARE NOT HUMAN]: sender figured out receiver is a vampire and confronts them.

[FEEDING HOUR]: receiver finds sender feeding on someone's blood.

[WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER]: sender touches receiver's vampire face, showing they are not afraid.

[YOU NEED TO]: sender offers their blood to receiver.

[ECHOES OF THE PAST]: receiver is a doppelganger/looks like a person the sender knew in the past.

[DEATH AND THE MAIDEN]: receiver and sender can't be together as one is immortal and the other is a vampire.

[MY MAKER, MY LOVER]: sender is receiver's sire and they reunite after centuries after.

[BOND]: receiver is senders fledgling and sender can feel them.

[ELIXIR]: receiver is hurt and sender, a vampire, feeds them their blood.

[SHARING]: sender tempts receiver to share a meal of blood.

[HUNTING THE HUNTER]: sender is a vampire hunter, and they found receiver.

[THE INVITATION]: receiver receives an INVITATION to stay at sender's gothic/ancient manor.

[DRACULA'S BRIDE]: sender wants receiver to be one of their wives/lovers.

[BLOOD FAMILIAR]: sender is a vampire familiar, a human bloodbag under receiver protection. receiver finds out another vampire had bitten them.

[CRAVING]: sender tasted receiver once and craved them again.

[INVITED]: after bring invited inside, sender shows up at receiver's home.

[LICK]: sender licks receiver's blood remains from their mouth.

[LAST RESORT]: receiver has to turn sender into vampire because they are dying. sender wakes up in transition.

[ANCHOR]: sender calms receiver down after receiver went on a bloodlust spree. sender reminds them their humanity.

[RIVAL COVENS]: sender and receiver are from rival vampire covens and they talk in neutral ground.

[HUMANITY]: sender is human and because of them, receiver is starting to feel humanity again.

[I'LL BE YOUR GUIDE]: receiver is guiding sender through the early stages of vampirism.

[RIVAL SPECIES]: sender is a werewolf/witch and receiver is a vampire. they fall in love/ally with each other.

[DHAMPIR]: sender is a half human, half vampire who just had their first taste of human blood. receiver finds them.

[REFLECTION]: sender looks in the mirror and finds out that receiver has no reflection.

[isagispuzzle]

haha happy 200 followers pookie don't u just LOVE ENEMIES TO LOVERS it's so basic BUT ITS SO GOOD 😫🙏🙏 also GOOD JOB ur writing is so DELICIOUS U SHOUKD BE PROUDDD🫶😼

AAAAA TYSM!!! i racked my brain for a bllk boy i could imagine in an enemies to lovers scenario, hope you like it!! cw: alcohol

you glare at reo from across the banquet hall. as usual, he's surrounded by important shareholders, bosses, and advocates, all clamouring for a second of his attention. he has a polite smile on, attending to each one of them diplomatically yet with his personal humorous flair. you're surrounded by just as many people as he is, all of them equally greedy for your regard, so you slap on your best smile and entertain their conversations with practised ease, because there's no way you'll lose to reo.

with mikage corporation being the only company that could actually rival your family's, you were naturally wary of everyone from that side. through watching your parents interact with the mikages, you learnt to slide through conversations with a sweet smile and sharp words, which served you especially well when you talked to the only mikage your age, reo.

although you've seen him laugh happily without pretense with his friends in school, he never did so with you. instead, he sized you up cautiously and looked away when you tried to talk to him first. you decided you didn't want to be his friend anyway, so you shot him a snarky comment that started this rivalry that carried into your adult years.

twenty years later, you're both the ceos of your own companies and your conversations with reo still consist of just backhanded compliments and thinly veiled insults, which is why you're gritting your teeth behind your smile when someone tells you about the talk going around recently. there have been speculations about the possibilities of you and reo getting married, since it would bring great success to both companies and it seemed only right that you both marry someone of similar status. you momentarily lose your composure and your eyebrow twitches, because even if you respect reo's business acumen and acknowledge his good looks, you can't forget all the petty remarks he's made to you.

the gala reaches its tail end and several guests are starting to leave, so you catch a breather at the bar and sip a glass of whiskey. reo appears by your side with a cocky smile on his lips, and he teases you about the marriage rumours. you're aware of the many pairs of eyes on the both of you, so you stretch your lips into a smile and quietly hiss that he'll only be able to marry you in his dreams.

you start to drink faster, unnerved by both the whispers behind your back and reo's presence right next to you. reo raises his brows, but you look away. you're already ignoring the warnings in your head telling you not to get drunk here, so why will you listen to his?

reo sits with you as you drink past your limit and helps you out of the hall, away from the prying eyes of the other guests. sure, reo didn't particularly fancy you, but his conscience couldn't let you make a fool of yourself in front of those important people and ruin the hard work of your parents and yourself. he prides himself on being an upright man, after all, and the only way he wants to win is through his hard work.

he takes your phone out of your purse as he guides you down the hallway and calls your driver to get the car ready for you. you seem to react to reo's voice, and in your drunken stupor, you lean your head against his shoulder. reo shifts his grip from your elbow to your waist so that you don't fall, and his eyes are wide as he glances down at you.

you've never been this unguarded around him, and you've always shot him a glare when no one else was looking, so when you snuggle into his side and mumble his name, reo thinks his ears are on fire and fears that his feelings for you may finally come unraveled.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Dwayne Would Include:

He will be very overprotective, kind, loving, but also he can get very jealous. He might even get violent if someone else tries to get close to you. You are his and no one else's, which he happily proves every day since meeting you.

He will always be around you, constantly checking on you and making sure you're safe. If he does leave you or you're out on your own, he makes sure someone is there to keep an eye on you at all times. He takes the term ‘you are mine’ to a completely different level.

He absolutely cannot stand anyone else trying to flirt with you or look in your direction. He will glare at them until they look away and give you an 'I'll deal with you later' look. But if someone were to lay a hand on you, no matter if they were male or female, he wouldn't hold back.

He doesn't like you hanging out with anyone without him present. If he can, he'll try to sit as close to you as humanly possible, almost as if the distance between the two of you hurts him somehow. He will almost act like a lost puppy if he can't be near you.

This boy knows no meaning of the word 'privacy'. That door you closed and locked when you were getting changed? Doesn’t mean anything to him. He will pick the lock and walk in on you, making some flirty comment and telling you how good you look. And forget about showering alone. He always finds a way to join you.

He also likes to pick out outfits for you and does not like you wearing anything revealing. You are his to look at, no one else's, so you will almost always find yourself in baggy clothes and a coat, no matter the weather.

No matter who it is you're talking to, the boys, the girls, teachers, your family members, it doesn't matter. If he sees you having a conversation with them, he's making his way over as fast as he can and pulling you away from them, either putting you behind him or keeping a hand around your waist to keep you against him and away from whoever it was you were talking to.

In front of other people, he acts as the definition of a gentleman. Holding doors, letting you walk in front, pulling out your chair for you, holding your stuff, all of it. But he only does this when other people are around. If it's just the two of you, he can be quite the opposite of a gentleman, often becoming almost more possessive than he already is to begin with.

He's very clingy, but in a caring way. He's constantly asking if you're okay, if you need anything, and reminding you over and over who you belong to. He's almost like a lost puppy; as soon as you walk into a room, his eyes immediately find you and he practically glues himself to either your side or right behind you.

He will reward you for just about anything. Got a good grade? He's taking you out to eat and probably already booked a hotel room for the two of you to 'celebrate' in. You did something as simple as saying his name? He's going to pull you to him, push you up against the nearest wall, and kiss you so deeply you wonder if you'll have to remind him you both need to breathe.

His way of punishing you usually consists of withholding physical contact, ignoring you, and not sleeping in the same room as you. The man lives for physical contact, so if you do something he doesn't like you can expect him to make sure you can't touch him in any way that isn't professional. He will also refuse to look at you, and will sleep on the couch instead of next to you in your shared bed, and he will not give in to any of your attempts to get him to give in and let you touch him again.

Fighting with him is never a good idea. It never escalates past screaming at each other over something stupid since that's where he tends to draw the line when it comes to you. You will not win a fight against him. The man will fight dirty just to make sure your argument loses. He does, however, know how to properly apologize. He'll come crawling back with his tail tucked between his legs, begging for your forgiveness.

They often just roll their eyes any time he does something. The boys often joke that he's the possessive one of the group and make comments about how whipped he is and that he's always got to be by your side.

The man is very affectionate. He loves giving you hugs, kisses, cuddles, and if you let him, he will almost be all over you twenty-four seven. He will make you sit on his lap, no matter where you are, and if you protest, he's most likely going to pick you up, plop you there, and refuse to let you go.

Dates with him are often a mixture of him showing you off and him making sure everyone knows you're his. He will shower you in compliments, buy you basically anything you look at, and is constantly all over you, whether it's keeping a hand on your hip, holding your hand, or just pulling you into a kiss. He's also very handsy; often letting his hand wander anywhere it goes.

Killing for you? It didn't take him very long to get rid of any competition he had, including any boys that tried to make moves on you and any girl that even just so much as looked at you for longer than any other person. Anything or anyone that he deemed a possible threat to the safety and happiness of yours.

He does have a shrine, actually. It started as a small collection of anything he could get that belonged to you, but it slowly turned into taking photos of you and putting them all over a specific room. A few photos he has are of you asleep on his chest, one of you laughing, one of you making a silly face, and even a few of you in the shower

He absolutely would make you a vampire if you asked him to. Hell, he would probably do it without you asking. It's the best way he knows to make sure you can be with him for eternity.

He loves the idea of marriage to you more than anything else. He wants the entire thing to happen; the proposal, the wedding, the honeymoon, all of it. He wants you in a beautiful big wedding dress, saying vows to him, having your first kiss as husband and wife, and of course, all the physical stuff that comes afterward.

He wants children with you. A whole brood of them, each of them being little clones of the two of you. The idea of having to go through the 'making' of the kids makes him happy. Once you get pregnant, he's going to want to shower you with affection and keep you as close as he can, even refusing to let you work, cook, or even walk around by yourself.

If you couldn't have kids he would be fine with it. He's a little upset but fine. If you didn't want kids, well, then he's not very happy. While he won't ever outright force you, he will certainly try to convince you to have them. He probably won't ever give up trying to convince you to have kids with him.

"You complete me. The world makes more sense when I'm with you. You're the only one who sees me for who I am, and you don't judge me for it. You're the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I go to bed at night. I can't imagine life without you, and I never want to. You're my best friend, my lover, my other half. I don't know how I ever lived without you, but I never want to go back to that emptiness again. You're my anchor, my home."

Teasing - Keeping you desperate and horny, denying you release until you're practically begging, then giving you just enough to keep you wanting more.

Spanking and discipline - Giving you a hard spanking, especially when he feels you've wronged him, watching you squirm and cry out. Makes him rock hard.

Exhibitionism - Flirting openly, making out, groping in public, anything to show off your relationship and make others jealous.

Choking - When he wraps his strong hands around a throat and squeeze, watching you struggle for air before letting up is pure bliss for him.

Topping from the bottom - He's great at guiding you exactly how he wants you to fuck him without you realizing he's in charge until it's too late.

[winterlynightlystories]

Still worth fighting for? Part 1

Tw; mention of murder, Geto’s racism, future poly relationship angst.

Please do not copy/steal my work

Geto Suguru/Male Reader and past Satosugu

Future Geto Suguru/Male Reader/ Gojo Satoru

Summary; As you are remembering how you and Suguru ended up together, his ex-boyfriend shows up at your place. The presence of Satoru doesn't seem to be appreciated by anyone in your little familly. Yet, there isn't other choice, since Satoru is there for a mission. But his presence awake old memories… old feelings.

Note; not proofread! And yes… I'm starting yet again a new series, but I couldn't resist writing about this dynamic and how the story would have gone if Suguru hadn't become a cult leader/Curse User. But don't worry, I am not forgetting the rest of my stories!

~~~~~~~~

You woke up with sweet kisses all over your face. You chuckled, feeling Suguru’s long hair tickling your bare chest and neck. Slowly opening your eyes, you were greeted with the sight of your tired boyfriend. Dark circles under his eyes and skin sickly pale, you could see the effect of the sleepless nights Suguru went through. You gently passed a hand in his hair, pulling him closer so you could kiss him.

- “Good morning gorgeous.” you said, feeling Suguru melting in your arms and smiling against your lips.

- “I don't think I look that gorgeous right now.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

- “Nonsense, you'll always be the sexiest man in my eyes.”

He laughed, pushing you away as you kissed his neck, putting your hands under his white shirt. Suguru’s skin was warm… too warm.

- “How are you feeling? I'm sorry I've been neglecting you and the girls. You shouldn't be the only one taking care of them. You'll end up as sick.”

- “It's okay, I'm fine. The girls haven't gotten back their voices, but their fever is almost gone. They finally fell asleep.” Suguru replied, laying down next to you, resting his head on your chest. “You have been busy with work, I can't hold it against you.”

- “Still, you need to rest as well. I'll call sick so you can enjoy a good hot shower and some sleep.”

- “No, you don't have…”

- “It wasn't a proposition, I'm going to do it.”

Suguru sighed, yet you still could feel his tired smile against your skin. You kissed his forehead, hating how sweaty and warm it was. Nanako and Mimiko had caught a terrible flu at school. The poor things were coughing so harshly that they were throwing up and losing their voices. The fever went so high one day that Suguru had to take them to the hospital. You remembered the fear and panic you felt when Suguru called you. His voice filled with worries had broken your heart. Thankfully, you were able to leave and join him.

Playing with Suguru’s hair, you remembered how all of this started. It was at school when you both were only seventeen. It was soon after the death of that poor girl, Riko. How her terrible faith had broken Suguru and, besides you, no one seemed to notice it. Not even Suguru’s then-boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.

Suguru and you grew closer as you became his only support, keeping his head out of the water as much as you could. You often went on the same mission, because you asked for it, feeling like Suguru could break anytime. It was during one of your missions that you saved the girls. You still could remember how Suguru almost snapped. The coldness in his eyes, the murderous aura around him. It had taken everything for you to calm him down. You basically kidnapped Nanako and Mimiko, but in the end were able to keep them.

Well, Suguru did, while you lost everything. You took all the blame, trying to protect him.

It was always obvious that you loved Suguru. You were often mocked by Gojo and teased about how Suguru was his. How, even with his six eyes, did Satoru never realize you also liked him? That was a mystery that would never be solved.

So it was a surprise when Suguru abandoned the school, and everything before he left Gojo to follow you. It wasn't long until you found a place to call home far from Tokyo, almost on the other side of the country… then you started a romantic relationship.

Suguru stayed mostly at home, taking care of the girls and teaching them everything about their world. About becoming Sorcerers. You noticed how your man had a bad tendency to call Non-Sorcerers ‘monkeys’, but in the end, you understood him.

So while Suguru took care of the twins, you went to school and became a police officer, but quickly was promoted to detective. It was a job that cost you a lot of time. Being called days and nights, sometimes not even coming home for a day or two.

Just like now.

You were on the strangest case you ever saw. An ungodly amount of blood had been found in a back alley, enough to assume the victim had died from blood loss. Yet, there was a report of sighting. But the witnesses all said the same; the man wasn't acting normally and he had a new large scar and stitches all around his head.

It didn't make sense.

So, when corpses began the pile-up you contacted the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, knowing damn well you were dealing with Curses. Something had taken control of a dead body and you preferred letting them deal with that weirdness.

You were supposed to meet with the Sorcerer affiliated to the case today, but seeing how Suguru and the girls were, you preferred calling sick. You'll meet later at night or tomorrow, it wasn't urgent after all.

A knocking at the bedroom door had both you and Suguru sighing. You kissed him on the forehead before slowly getting up.

- “Go take a shower and then rest. I'll take care of the girls.” you said as Suguru closed his eyes and nodded.

You found Nanako standing behind the door, her eyes red and puffy. Her hair was soaked with sweat and she was slightly shaking. Without a word, you scooped her up with an arm, putting your other hand on her forehead.

She was burning.

- “Okay. Let's do another round of pills and syrups, okay? I'm going to take care of you, Suguru is resting.”

She said nothing, after all, she still couldn't talk. Instead, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and rested her head against your neck. You almost flinched, feeling just how burning her skin was. You cursed mentally, thinking about taking her immediately to the urgences. But you couldn't leave Suguru and her sister behind. You would wait and if really the fever wasn't going down, then…

You carried Nanako back into her bed, grabbing the medicine on your way. You gave it to her after helping her to bed. You didn't leave the room until she was fast asleep and made sure her sister was alright too.

You hated seeing the Twins so sick, but there was nothing you could do but wait until it passed. It was, after all, the first time they were so bad. Normally they would have the flu for a few days then it would go away.

You sighed as you got out of Nanako and Mimiko’s bedroom. You hoped that Suguru wouldn't get as sick as them.

You could hear the shower which made you smile, wanting nothing else than to join your boyfriend under it and take care of him. But, you had a few calls to make. A single look at the clock told you all you needed; your boss wasn't going to be at the police station before at least one more hour. So you called your partner.

- “Oi, mate! Why are you calling so early?” the voice of your old partner and friend asked, as he chewed on something. “Is everything alright?”

- “No. Haru, I'm afraid the girls aren't doing better and Suguru definitely caught the same thing. He's already having a light fever.” You sighed, putting the kettle on the oven. “I won't be able to make it to the post today. Can you pass the word to the captain?”

- “Of course! I hope you don't need to go to the hospital again?”

- “I don't know. Nanako was burning hot and passed out after I gave her her medicine. If her fever doesn't drop I won't have the choice.”

- “Shit! Keep me informed. I’ll ask Inko to drop you some soup. My wife’s cooking is the best when sick! You'll see, your girls are going to be better in no time.”

- “Thanks. Can I ask you to take care of our Sorcerer friend? Just give him the big lines, I'll meet with them tonight or tomorrow to give him the rest of the case.”

- “Yes, yes! I will. Do you know who they are going to send?”

- “Nan. Probably a first or second grade, this isn't something big enough to require one of their best elements. Probably some trashy Curse trapped inside a corpse or something like that.”

Haru was one of the rare persons around you who had Cursed Energy and could see curses. But the poor fellow was mediocre at best when it came to any kind of fighting style and he knew it. So he never even tried to become a sorcerer. Instead, he married his wife when they were freshly out of school. They both knew your and Suguru’s history and had always been a comforting presence in your lives ever since. They always loved to keep the girls from time to time, giving you and Suguru some alone time.

So you felt relieved knowing Inko would be coming around during the day. She would be such a great help to take care of your sick family.

After hanging up, you poured yourself a hot cup of tea before sitting at the table, trying to relax your nerves. In the silence of the apartment, you heard Suguru turning off the shower. Your boyfriend was probably drying himself before going to bed. You want nothing more than to go back to bed and cuddle him, but it is your turn to stay up and take care of the house.

So you did. You washed the dishes and cleaned the living room, grabbing the girls’ stuff they had left around. Mostly school things. You found Nanako’s pull under the sofa, somehow and Mimiko’s socks under the TV. You sighed, throwing them in the washing machine before starting the laundry.

You took the time to make sure the girls were fine. You found them sharing the same bed, unable to tell which limb belonged to whom. You smiled, touching their forehead. They weren't as warm as earlier. You pulled a thin blanket on them before leaving their room.

You found Geto sleeping curled up in the mess of the blanket and discarded clothes. He had a pale grey shirt and his boxer, but nothing else. His shirt was slightly pulled up, revealing his flat stomach and ribs. He had, again, lost some weight.

You heard your phone ringing, but you ignored it, deciding to lie down behind Suguru. You gently wrapped an arm around him, pressing your body against him. You felt his body relax as if he recognized your presence even in his sleep. You closed your eyes, nose buried deep in his damp hair.

You needed to call work and take a longer leave, at least until your little family was back on its feet. And you needed to take Suguru on a date and spoil him after he did so much. Maybe you needed to think about leaving your job for a less demanding one. Suguru and the girls needed you too after all and you hated missing on special occasions.

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

You woke up feeling Suguru moving, grunting you tried to keep him in bed with you.

- “Someone is knocking at the door.” he said with a tired voice and you sighed.

- “Stay in bed, it might be Inko. She is supposed to come give us a hand and some soup. Maybe she forgot her key.”

You got up, leaving Suguru in bed.

But as you approached the door, you knew it wasn't your friend. The shadow at the window was way to tall and that hair… You stopped in your tracks, refusing to believe it. But the figure knocked again and you had no choice but to open the door.

And there he stood.

Gojo fucking Satoru.

Somehow the man got taller, but he was still the same. Instead of his round sunglasses, a black blindfold covered his Six Eyes. A smudge grin painted his lips. He chuckled, seeing your shocked expression.

- “What? You haven't gotten a call from your partner?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

- “No, I didn't pick up. I was focused on tacking care of my sick family. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

- “Ouch. No ‘Happy to see you!’ or ‘It's been so long, but you still look good Satoru!’?”

- “Yes, yes, but it's not what I mean. Why are they sending you for something so banal? Anyway, come in. Tea?”

You got out of the way, letting the man enter. You closed the door behind him and, as you went to the kitchen, saw him freeze at the entrance of the living room. Gojo must have seen the picture of your family.

You poured two cups of tea before joining Gojo. You found him sitting in the sofa and staring at the wall where you had hung many pictures of you, Suguru and the girls. You couldn't tell which one Satoru was staring at. The one from last year at the beach? Maybe the one of you kissing Suguru outside as the snow fell around. Or the one where your boyfriend sat at the table, helping the girls with their homework? Either way, you could see how tight Gojo's jaw was closed. You almost feared his teeth would crack under the pressure.

- “Here. So, why you?” you asked, giving him the tea before sitting in the armchair facing him.

- “Because it's not the first time a situation like this one happened. We think it might be a Curse User.” He said, not even moving his head. You could tell he wanted to ask question, but didn't press him.

- “Really? I haven't heard of anything similar around here.”

- “Not here, in Tokyo.”

- “Ah…. Yes, we don't really look at the news from there.” you mumbled, sipping at your own tea.

The silence was loud and heavy.

You two were supposed to be talking about the case, but you just couldn't talk. You had this mass in your throat making it difficult to swallow your tea or even your saliva. A part of you had, ironically, missed Satoru. Even if the man had been a dick all the time you were at school, you still had good memories. Because he still gave you a hand when you needed it.

And you stole his boyfriend.

Which was making you the bigger asshole in the room.

- “What the fuck is he doing here?” Asked Suguru, making you jump and drop your tea on you. Suguru came to you, hearing you curse. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

- “It's okay, don't worry.” You replied, letting Suguru take your empty cup. “Satoru is here for the case. Apparently, it's not the first time it has happened.”

- “And you believe him?” He asked, grabbing your phone as he sat on your lap. He had put on your pair of jogging.

- “Su’ what are you doing?”

- “Making sure he isn't lying”

You sighed, wrapping one arm around Suguru's waist while caressing his knee with the other. You gave an apologetic look at Satoru, mouthing a ‘Sorry, he is sick.’ while Suguru talked to whoever was on the other side. Poor Gojo was so tense he seemed frozen in place and you felt bad for him. The man didn't ask to be here, didn't ask to witness you loving on his ex. You knew that Gojo definitely still had feelings for Suguru. How could he not? Everyone knew just how in love they used to be.

You sighed, watching Suguru throw your phone on his own lap, grinding his teeth.

- “True?”

- “Yeah. They did send him.” he sighed, giving Satoru the side eye.

- “I’m sorry. Want me to go…” you tried to talk, but Suguru signalled you to shut up.

- “No. It's okay, but I’m staying with you.”

- “Babe, I need my suitcase.” you pointed out, but without a word, Suguru got up and left.

You sighed and passed a hand on your face, knowing damn well this was going to be one hell of a case.

- “I see he is still angry at me.” Satoru said, voice so low you almost didn't hear it.

- “Honestly I don't know. I don't even know what happened between you two. Suguru doesn't like talking about it, so we don't.” you replied, looking at him.

- “We fought… about you.” Gojo admitted, looking away.

- “About me?”

- “Yeah. About how I acted toward you, especially after your expulsion. Suguru left me, pointing out how you were the only one who had noticed how he was truly feeling after… after Riko. Well, that and more.”

You were silent, not knowing what to say. They had broken up, over you? Suguru had defended you, even before you were an item?

You felt your heart swollen with love for Suguru. He was such a strong and kind soul. You loved him even more, if that was possible.

You smiled, almost stupidly, as Suguru came back into the living room, throwing your suitcase at Satoru before sitting back on your lap.

- “Come on. Quite at talking about that day, why don't you repeat what you told me?” Suguru asked, his voice filled with so much venom you almost didn't recognize it. “Are you doing it or should I?”

- “I…”

- “You told me, and I quote “Well, if he is such a great and good man, why don't you leave me for him? Clearly, he would be a way better boyfriend than me!” that's what you told me, right? And yes, he is a way better boyfriend than you ever were.”

You gasped, looking back and forth between the two men. Gods, you really were behind their break up!

You wrapped your arm tightly around Suguru, pulling him closer to you. You took his hand in yours, kissing his fingers. You hated seeing him like that. Angry, hurt and uncomfortable in your own house. You wanted to leave and go somewhere else, so Suguru wouldn't have to face Satoru, but it was clear your boyfriend wasn't going to leave the two of you alone.

This situation was more than awkward and uncomfortable.

The silence that followed Suguru's statement was heavy. Terribly heavy. But, surprisingly, it was Satoru who broke it.

- “I'm sorry. I was cruel and neither of you deserved it. Especially you, Suguru. And I'm not looking for forgiveness, because I know I don't deserve it. I don't want revenge either, I'm just happy you got to build a family and be happy.” He sighed, looking away. “But we have a job to do and a Curse User to catch.”

Against you, you felt Suguru slowly relax. Had he been afraid that Satoru came to try and conquer him again? Or hurt you? You kissed Suguru’s fingers again and he gave you a weak smile. The dark circles under his eyes seemed worse, but his eyes had found back their softness. You mouthed an “I love you” while Satoru was opening your suitcase and pulled out all the documents and photos you had about the case.

You also relax, thinking that maybe working with Satoru wasn't going to be so hard finally.

No.

The hard part was going to try and forget how your heart still missed a beat when you felt his eyes looking at you. Or how Suguru refused to meet Gojo’s gaze.

Yes.

The hard part would be to act as if there were no more feelings when, obviously, they were still there. Intact and waiting.