#I’m pretty sure the same thing is probably happening with music but I’m not in the know enough to say | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dystopic-view · 3 months ago

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My roommates concert (+18)

Geto x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: After two months of being roommates, and kissing on the first day you met, you and Geto have grown close, enjoying each other's company without crossing any lines. But one night, when you go to watch him perform at a small gig, everything changes. A quiet moment backstage leads to something unexpected, leaving you both questioning where things will go from there.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: fluff, bassist geto, jealousy, slow burn, nsfw, longing, sexual tension, teasing, foreplay, body worship, oral sex (female receiving) unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

𝐖.𝐂: 6.7K 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: the contents of this story are a part 2 to this one. make sure you read it first. ♡

You had been Sugurus roomate for two months now, and while neither of you had labeled anything, there was definitely something there.

The air between you had shifted.

There was a comfort in being around him, but the tension from that first kiss still lingered.

Not only that, but nothing else had happened between you two since.

You were sitting on the couch, legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone as Geto tuned his bass across the room.

He had been talking about an upcoming small gig for a couple of days, and that night had finally come.

“It’s nothing special,” he said, looking over at you as he plucked at the strings. “Just a few guys from my old band, jamming at this little place we used to play at back in the day.”

You smiled, watching him, noting the excitement in his eyes that he was trying to play off as casual. “You seem pretty excited for it to be nothing special.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted the strap on his bass. “I mean, it’s been a while. I’m just looking forward to it, I guess. And, you know…” He hesitated, glancing over at you. “It’s cool that you’re coming to watch.”

You felt a small warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “I wouldn’t miss it. Gotta see if you’re as good as you say,” you teased, earning a smirk from him.

As you headed out together, the energy between you felt comfortable but charged, the same way it had been for weeks.

There clearly was something going on between the two of you that surpassed the lines of being just roommates, but neither of you had made a move to define it.

Two months of living together, and you had both settled into an easy routine.

Sharing meals, hanging out, talking late into the night, but always with that tension in the air surrounding you, just beneath the surface.

You were sitting at a small, dimly lit table in the back of a bar, chatter and clinking glasses filling the space around you.

The place had a grungy, intimate vibe, with faded posters on the walls and a few scattered tables occupied by groups of friends, mostly locals.

You sipped your drink, trying to shake off the slight nervousness bubbling in your chest.

You had never seen Geto perform before, and even though he had mentioned it casually, you could tell playing meant a lot to him.

The lights were dimmed, and the stage at the front of the room was lit by a single spotlight.

It was almost time for the band to start, and as the minutes ticked by, your anticipation built. Your eyes scanned the room.

There were all kinds of people there, some your age, others older but clearly all were there for the music.

A group of girls near the stage caught your attention.

They were laughing, leaning against the bar, looking a little too eager for the band to come out.

You pushed the thought aside, trying to not let it bother you.

You knew you and Geto weren’t technically together, but still, there was something about seeing other girls there, probably hoping for his attention, that made your chest tighten.

Then, the lights shifted slightly, and Geto stepped onto the stage with his bass slung over his shoulder, his usual calm expression adorning his face.

You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening at the sight of him in a different light.

Literally.

The quiet guy you had been getting to know for months now suddenly looked different, more confident, like he belonged up there.

He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt, that accentuated the lean muscles in his arms and the tattoos that peeked out from under his sleeves, revealing the intricate patterns snaking down his forearms.

Bold, dark lines stood out under the low lights, drawing attention to the ink that usually stayed hidden behind long sleeves.

That night, though, they were on full display, and that added to that air of mystery already surrounding him.

His hair, which he normally wore loosely tied back, was pulled into a slightly messy bun at the nape of his neck, with a few strands falling free to frame his face.

There was something about the way the dim stage lights reflected in his dark hair and highlighted the sharp angles of his face that made him even more captivating.

As he stood there, bass in hand, his presence was magnetic.

You were used to seeing him laid-back and quiet at home, but up there with his tattoos visible and his sharp features highlighted, he looked more intense, more sure of himself.

You could almost hear the gasps of that group of girls in front of the stage from where you were sitting in the back of the room, as Geto walked out on stage.

The crowd quieted down, the buzz of conversation fading as the rest of the band came out and began to set up.

You watched Geto as he adjusted his bass and the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings.

You couldn’t help but watch the way he looked making it impossible for you to stray your eyes away.

When they started playing, the sound was raw and heavy, the bassline deep and steady, and you could feel it vibrating in your chest.

Geto looked focused, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips, a quiet satisfaction as the music went on.

The crowd was into it, heads bobbing to the rhythm, and you noticed those girls near the front moving a little closer to the stage, their eyes locked on him.

A drop of jealousy hit you, sharper than you expected, and you took a sip of your drink to distract yourself.

You knew it was silly to feel that way.

He was performing, not even paying attention to them.

But you found it really hard to ignore the way they seemed to be trying to catch his attention, especially when you had been growing closer to him those past few weeks.

Your eyes were glued on Geto, though.

He was captivating, you were entranced by the way he moved with the music, his focus entirely on the performance.

And yet, every once in a while, you caught him glancing in your direction, almost like he was checking to see if you were watching.

Each time, your heart skipped a beat, the tension between you feeling like it was tightening even more.

The set continued, the music filling the space, but you were caught in your own thoughts.

The sight of him up there, so in control, so confident, stirred something in you.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same thing, the same thing that had been brewing between you for weeks.

As the final notes of the set faded, Geto looked out over the crowd, his gaze landing on you.

For a brief second, the noise of the bar faded away, and it felt like it was just the two of you in the room.

His eyes lingered on yours, and you could clearly feel a silent acknowledgment of the tension between you, the unspoken attraction that had been building for so long.

And then he looked away, turning back to his bandmates.

You were still sitting at the table, trying to ignore the excited energy from the group of girls near the stage.

You finished your drink, trying to ignore the way they began clapping and shouting for another song.

One of the girls from the group started to make her way over to him, her confidence unmistakable as she leaned casually against the side of the stage.

She was smiling, her eyes locked on Geto, and you could already feel that slight hint of jealousy coming back.

You watched, trying to keep your expression neutral, but you couldn’t stop the way your heartbeat raced as she said something to him, leaning in closer than necessary.

She was being bold.

Her hand lightly brushed his arm, and she tossed her hair back, clearly trying to catch his attention.

You sat up straighter, the heat rising in your chest, even as you tried to tell yourself to relax.

It was nothing, right?

Besides, you had seen that before.

Girls always seemed drawn to Geto.

They always seemed drawn to his quiet, mysterious vibe.

You noticed it every time you went grocery shopping with him.

But being used to it didn’t make it easier to watch.

To your relief, Geto didn’t seem fazed.

His body language was distant, his eyes shifting away from hers as if he was barely listening to what she was saying.

He nodded politely, offering a kind smile, but there was no visible interest in him.

Still, the girl didn't notice that.

Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice too distant to hear, but her laughter loud enough to be heard through the noise of the crowd.

Your grip tightened around your empty glass as you watched the exchange, trying not to let the jealousy consume you.

It was irrational.

You knew that.

Geto wasn’t interested, that was obvious.

But it was really hard to ignore the fact she was so clearly making a move on him, right in front of you.

Just as you were about to look away, the girl's gaze suddenly shifted in your direction, her eyes narrowing slightly when she noticed you already staring back at her.

It was like she was sizing you up, acknowledging your presence for the first time.

The corner of her mouth lifted into a smirk, and she turned back to Geto, saying something that you couldn't exactly hear, but could clearly see through her body language.

She was trying to claim him, as if to say,“watch this, he’s mine.’’

You could feel the irritation building up inside of you, but before you could react, Geto followed her gaze and locked eyes with you.

For a split second, the noise of the bar seemed to fade again, just like it had during his performance.

His expression softened the moment he saw you, and there was a flash of something in his eyes.

Reassurance, maybe?

A subtle sign that he didn’t care for her.

Without missing a beat, Geto pulled away from the girl, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped down from the stage.

He made his way toward you, the girl watching in silence, a stunned expression on her face, her confidence wavering as she realized she had lost his attention.

The smirk vanished from her lips, but you could feel her eyes burning into you as Geto approached.

He stopped in front of you, that familiar calmness coating his features as he gave you a small, almost teasing smile.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and casual, as if the entire room wasn’t buzzing with energy.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing.

He didn’t even acknowledge the girl, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of victory. The tension between you thickened, but now it felt more like a mutually shared thing, something that neither of you needed to point out.

He didn’t have to say anything.

His actions spoke for themselves.

As you sat there, the moment between you and Geto was interrupted by that girl.

She had followed him to the table, her energy still high.

She leaned on the edge of your table, her smile dripping with false charm.

She was pretending you weren’t even there, directing her full attention back to Geto, her voice suddenly louder, faker.

“Suguru,” she purred, using his first name as if they had known each other for years. “You were amazing up there. I didn’t know you were that good.”

You rolled your eyes internally, trying not to let the irritation show on your face.

Geto, still standing close to you, just gave her a polite nod. “Thanks,” he said, his tone flat. He averted his gaze slightly, making it obvious that he wasn’t planning on keeping the conversation going, but she didn’t seem to take the hint.

Instead, she leaned in closer to him, her fingers brushing the sleeve of his shirt. “We should definitely hang out sometime,” she said, her voice lowering just a bit, like she was trying to seduce him.

Your grip tightened on your glass, and you glanced up at Geto, but he was still calm, barely reacting to her attempts.

His eyes flickered toward you briefly, as if to check in, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Almost like he was amused by her persistence.

Before he could say anything, though, the girl turned her attention toward you, finally acknowledging your presence.

She looked you up and down, her expression dripping with fake sweetness. “Oh,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Are you a fan of the band too, or are you just here for… moral support?”

You could feel the passive-aggressive energy behind her words, and it took everything in you to keep your expression neutral. “Sure,” you responded coldly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

She chuckled, clearly unimpressed. “Cute,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “But you know, real fans get to know the band… personally.”

Her eyes flashed to Geto again, as if she was waiting for him to back her up.

But he was silent, looking almost bored by her remarks.

Instead of reacting, he finally stepped closer to you, subtly putting some distance between himself and the girl.

He placed his arm around your shoulders, the gesture casual but possessive enough that it was impossible to miss.

And unexpected enough that it made you jump slightly in your chair at the sudden touch.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said to the girl, his voice calm but final. “I’ve got plans tonight.”

The girl blinked, clearly not expecting his bluntness. “Plans?” she repeated, her voice faltering as she glanced between the two of you, the realization finally hitting her.

The smirk on her face disappeared, replaced by a spark of annoyance.

“Yeah,” Geto replied, his eyes locked on yours now, a small smile playing on his lips. “With her.”

“Oh,” she said, feigning surprise, but you could tell she wasn’t giving up just yet. “Well, maybe we can all hang out sometime?”

You felt a mix of annoyance and amusement at her persistence, and quickly acted upon those feelings, shaking your head. “I think we’ll pass,” you replied firmly, the irritation creeping into your voice.

She pouted slightly, clearly not expecting the rejection, but instead of giving up, she leaned in a little more, undefeated. “Are you sure?,” she insisted, turning to him, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’m pretty fun.”

You could sense the tension in the air as she tried to navigate her way back into the conversation, but Geto’s focus remained on you, and you could see the slight shift in his expression.

He was done entertaining her.

“She said, we’ll pass,” he said, a subtle annoyance in his tone that made it clear he wasn’t interested in indulging her further.

She scoffed a little, finally realizing her attempts weren’t proving successful, and straightened up. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone,” she said, forcing a smile. “But you should definitely think about it.”

With one last flirtatious glance, she turned and walked away, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor fading into the background noise of the bar as she went back to her group of friends.

She left, and the air suddenly felt lighter, but still charged.

“Sorry about that,” he said, his voice low, a hint of amusement in it. “Some people just don’t get the hint.”

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “No worries. I get it. It’s not your fault.” But deep down, you couldn’t help the flutter of excitement that rushed through you.

He chose you over her, and that realization sent a rush of warmth through your chest.

“Hey, do you want to come backstage and meet the guys from the band?” he asked, his tone casual but you could see a hint of excitement in his eyes.

“Really? I’d love to!” you replied, surprised yet thrilled at the invitation.

The thought of getting to know his world a little bit better was exhilarating, and you felt honored he was showing it to you.

You followed him to the back of the bar, and he led you to a hallway that ended with a door to a dressing room.

You entered behind him, and looked around.

The walls were also adorned with posters and the faint sound of old rock music played from a distant speaker.

An old looking couch sat against one wall, surrounded by a few scattered bottles of beer and a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting at a low table, giving the room a laid-back, messy yet comfortable vibe.

The lighting was dim and the air was thick with the scent of wood and a hint of cigarette smoke.

Inside, the band members were busy packing up their equipment, but they stopped to greet you with warm smiles. “Hey, you made it!” one of them said, his friendly demeanor instantly putting you at ease.

Geto stood beside you, his body language exuding satisfaction, as if he was proud to have you there.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up red at the way all of their eyes were on you.

They exchanged glances, but you caught the way Geto watched you, his gaze softening.

The guys started asking you questions about your music taste, and soon enough, the room was filled with laughter and easy conversation.

They told you about their old gigs, shared funny stories from their concerts, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying their company.

Each time you glanced at Geto, you saw him smiling, clearly happy that you were fitting in so well.

“Honestly, we need more people like you in our crowd,” one of the bandmates joked, nudging Geto playfully. “He never brings anyone to hang out!”

You laughed, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. “I’m lucky to be here tonight then.”

As the conversation continued, you felt a genuine connection with the band, and it was easy to understand why Geto liked them so much.

They were relaxed, funny, and very supportive of each other.

But eventually, the time came for them to start packing up their things, and the energy in the room shifted slightly.

“We’ve got to get our gear to the band van before the bar kicks us out,” one of the guys says, glancing at the clock.

They all started getting up from their seats, and as the excitement of the moment began to fade, you felt a slight pang of disappointment.

“Thanks for having me, guys. It was really nice meeting you!” you said, trying to hold onto the warmth of the evening.

“Anytime! You should come to our next gig,” another bandmate suggested, giving you a grin as they gathered their things.

Geto looked at you, and there was a moment of shared understanding.

The relationship between him and his bandmates was great, but the connection you had been building felt even more special after that.

As the last of the equipment was loaded up into their van, the band members said their goodbyes, leaving you and Geto alone in the cozy dressing room.

The atmosphere felt different, quieter, and the soft glow of the low lights created an intimate setting that enhanced the tension between you.

You and Geto exchanged glances, and there was a shift in the air around you, a palpable awareness of each other that wasn’t there before.

He stepped a little closer, the distant sound of laughter and chatter outside barely reaching you.

“You did great tonight,” you said, your voice soft but filled with sincerity.

“Thanks. I’m glad you came,” he replied, and there was a warmth in his tone that made your heart race.

In that small, intimate space, the unspoken feelings between you two started to bubble to the surface, and you couldn’t shake away the thought that something significant was about to happen.

The room felt comfortable, the lingering sound of the bar's music fading into the background of the moment you were sharing, where it was just the two of you.

No distractions.

No expectations.

Just the quiet tension that had been building for weeks.

You both settled onto the small couch, the air thick with unspoken words.

You inhaled deeply, and took a moment to collect your thoughts, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.

“I really can’t believe how good you were up there,” you started, trying to keep your tone light, but there was an intensity in your gaze. “You looked incredible, and the way you played... It was amazing. I really enjoyed it.”

Geto shifted slightly, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips at your praise. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”

You took a breath, deciding to be upfront about what you had experienced earlier. “But I have to be honest... I felt a bit jealous when those girls were looking at you like that,” you confessed, your cheeks warming. “I know we’re not together or anything, but I couldn’t help it.”

Geto’s expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face.

“You don’t have to apologize for how you feel,” he said, his tone steady yet gentle. “I get it. It’s not easy watching people try to grab my attention when I’m just trying to focus on the music.”

You glanced down, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it sounds stupid. I shouldn’t feel that way...”

“No, it’s not stupid,” he interrupted softly, his voice firm. “I understand how you feel.” He leaned in slightly, the distance between you shrinking, and your heart raced at the change in his demeanor.

“Really?” you asked, looking up at him, searching for sincerity in his gaze.

“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes locking onto yours. “Even if we’re not technically together, it doesn’t change the fact that I like being around you. You mean a lot to me.” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

You swallowed, the reality of the situation washing over you. “I... I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth in your chest spread, mingling with the excitement of being so close to him, and as he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from him. “I didn’t bring you here just for the concert, you know,” he said, his tone dropping lower. “I wanted you to see that side of me, but I also wanted to spend time with you.”

Your breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Geto...” You tried to continue, but he interrupted again, his gaze sincere and focused.

“You don’t need to feel jealous or insecure. It’s just you and me here. And honestly? I’m glad it’s you.” The sincerity in his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and the tension lingered in the air, thick and electric.

You sat there, stuck in the intensity of his gaze, the world outside the dressing room fading

into a distant memory.

“I’m really glad I came tonight,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the honesty behind your words making your heart pick up pace. “It feels different being here with you.”

Geto leaned in closer, the couch suddenly feeling too small for the two of you “It does, doesn’t it?” he replied, his voice low, intimate.

There was something vulnerable in his eyes that caused your breath to falter.

You found yourself moving closer to him, almost unconsciously, the tension wrapping around you like a rope. “I’ve been thinking about this moment,” you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest. “About what it would be like if we didn’t have to hide how we feel.”

He narrowed the gap even more. “Same here,” he admitted, his voice steady, yet filled with an undeniable intensity “It’s hard not to think about it when you’re around.”

As the words hung in the air, the space between you grew heavier with desire.

You could see the emotion in his eyes.

Something raw and genuine.

And it sent a thrill through you.

“I don’t think I can handle just staring at you any longer…” you said softly, your heart racing as you searched his gaze for any hesitation.

But instead, you found only warmth and a deep longing, matching yours.

Without thinking, you leaned in closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He didn’t pull back, though.

Instead, he closed the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours.

The moment stretched, and you could feel even more intensely the heat radiating from him, the way his presence enveloped you.

Then, without a word, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his.

It was soft at first, a gentle kiss that sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every nerve ending.

But as you leaned into him, it deepened, the kiss becoming more urgent, more passionate.

His hand found its way to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, as if he was trying to erase any space that remained between you.

You responded instinctively, wrapping your arms around his neck, and your legs straddling his sides, melting into him as the kiss intensified.

Your heart raced, the rhythm of your pulse echoing in your ears, drowning out the rest of the world.

His fingers traced the contours of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

He broke the kiss, his gaze locked on yours briefly, his breathing heavy.

He cupped your face, pulling you back in for another kiss, more intense than the last.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,’’ he whispered, his voice thick with need.

You could feel the heat of his body, the evidence of his desire pressing against your core.

Geto’s fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, and settled on your breasts, his thumb teasing your nipple through the fabric of your shirt.

He pulled back again, his eyes filled with hunger, a silent plea for the both of you to continue down this path.

“Geto,’’ you murmured, your voice a soft, breathy whisper.

You leaned into his touch, encouraging him to explore further.“I... I want you too.’’

You reached down, grasping his hand, and guided it under your shirt, feeling his fingers brush against your skin.

The sensation made you shiver with anticipation, the intimacy of the gesture stirring something deep within you.

The room swirled around you, the line between reality and fantasy blurring as you surrendered to the moment.

Geto’s lips found your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body.

You responded swiftly, your hands finding their way to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head.

His breath hitched as you pulled his shirt off, and he watched as your eyes roamed over his body, taking in every line, every curve, every tattoo.

He felt a sense of pride, of accomplishment, knowing that you found him desirable.

Leaning in, he captured your lips once more, his hands tracing the curves of your body.

He knew you were as affected as he was, that the connection between you was as electric for you as it was for him.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his tongue tasting your skin.

He could feel your pulse quickening, your breath coming in short gasps, your body arching into his touch.

He smiled against your skin, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.

Geto’s hands explored your body, his fingers reaching the end of your shirt, tugging at the hem until it was bunched up around his hands.

He slid it over your head and his lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along your collarbone, down to your breasts.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, teasing it into a hard peak.

A moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming.

He moved to the other side, repeating the process, his hands sliding up your thighs, until his fingers reached the limit of your shorts.

His lips crashed into yours once more, his tongue dancing with yours, your taste intoxicating.

He pulled back and laid you on your back, his eyes filled with hunger and desire as he hovered over you on the couch.

Geto’s hands found the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric and pulling it down, taking off your underwear with it, revealing your most intimate self to him.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve, every line.

Geto felt a sense of awe, knowing that you had chosen to share this part of yourself with him.

He leaned down, his lips finding your inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path upwards.

He felt your muscles tensing, your body anticipating his touch.

He smiled against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.

His tongue reached your wetness, his lips parting to taste you, to explore you.

Your breath hitched, your body arching into his touch.

Taking his time, he traced his tongue over every fold, every crease, his fingers joining in, stroking and teasing.

Your body began responding to his touch, your hips moving in rhythm with his tongue.

He looked up, his eyes locking onto yours, watching as you lost yourself in the moment.

The sight of you, so lost in pleasure, so vulnerable, was mesmerizing.

His tongue and fingers worked in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel your body trembling, the tension building within you.

As you neared your climax, he felt your muscles twitch, your body arching off the couch, your moans growing louder, more desperate.

He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync.

And then, it happened.

Your body convulsed slightly, your soft moans turning into breathy whimpers as you reached that peak of pleasure.

Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

He pulled back, his eyes filled with admiration and affection as he watched you recover from the intensity of your orgasm.

He wiped his mouth, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Geto’s heart raced, his own arousal growing with each passing moment.

He could feel his own need growing, aching for release.

Looking at you, his eyes filled with desire, he stood up, unbuckling his belt and sliding down his pants.

His erection sprung free, evidence to his need.

He watched as your eyes locked onto it, your breath hitching in your throat.

He got on top of you, his erection pressing against your core.

“Geto…’’ you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. “Please…’’

You could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, hard and insistent.

You reached down, your fingers wrapping around his length.

He groaned at your touch, his hips slightly bucking against your hand.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire as he gazed down at you. “I want you so badly, baby. I need to be inside you.’’

You nod, your own need perfectly mirroring his.

He paused, taking a deep breath, savoring the moment before he entered you.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his erection nudging against you.

Slowly, he pushed inside, his pace deliberate, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. Your eyes widened, your body tensing as he filled you, your muscles stretching to accommodate him.

He watched your face, reading the emotion that flickered across it, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort.

As he sank deeper, your body relaxed, the discomfort fading, replaced by a growing sense of pleasure.

You could feel every inch of him, stretching you, filling you up like you had never experienced before.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked on yours, waiting for your cue.

You nodded, and he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, gradually building in speed and intensity.

His hands rested on your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

You responded to his touch, your hips moving in sync with his, your moans growing louder, more urgent.

“Fuck,’’ he exhaled, his voice shaky. “You feel incredible.’’

His hands began exploring your body, and you felt a rush of pleasure coursing through you.

Your skin tingled under his touch, every nerve ending lighting up with sensation.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder, deeper.

You moaned, your nails digging into his back, your hips rising to meet his.

The room filled up with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic creaking of the sofa and your mingled moans and gasps.

Geto’s mouth found yours, his kisses hungry and demanding.

His tongue tangled with yours, tasting you, claiming you.

“You're so tight,’’ he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “So perfect.“

One hand slid down your body, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles, a gasp escaping your lips at the contact.

“You’re such a good girl, taking me so well.’’ His heart swelled with pride as he felt your body respond to his touch, your moans and gasps spurring him on.

His fingers on your clit sent shockwaves through you, your muscles clenching around his length.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Your bodies moved in sync with your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.

“Don't stop, please don't stop,’’ you moaned, your voice high and needy.

“That's it, baby,’’ he groaned, his voice strained with exertion and lust. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come undone.’’

His fingers worked your clit with renewed vigor, his thumb circling the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth.

He swallowed your moans, basking in the sounds of your pleasure, the proof of his effect on you.

His hips pounded into you, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours echoing through the room mixing up with your moans and cries.

The sensation of his hard length filling you, stretching you, combined with the delicious friction of his fingers on your clit, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Your muscles began to tense, your body quivering slightly.

“I'm close,’’ you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body arching off the couch. “So close, Geto. Please, I need…’’

He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more erratic.

He felt your body tensing, your walls fluttering around him, and he knew you were on the verge of climax.

“Come for me, baby, there you go,’’ he breathed out, his free hand firmly gripping your hip.

His words, the intensity of his thrusts, the skilled touch of his fingers, it was all too much, the pressure inside you building to an almost unbearable level

With a cry of his name, you shattered, your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body trembled, your vision went blurry, your toes curled as the pleasure consumed you.

Your senses were completely overwhelmed by the intensity of your release.

Feeling your walls clenching around him, the rhythmic contractions surrounding him, urged him towards his own release.

He continued to thrust into you, his pace unrelenting, his movements growing more and more desperate as he chased his own climax.

“Fuck, I'm... I'm going to..." he moaned, his voice strained, his forehead pressed against yours.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin, his teeth grazing it.

Geto’s body tensed, his muscles straining as he neared his own peak.

His thrusts become urgent, losing their rhythm as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

His pacing was cut off by a shaky whimper as his climax hit him like a freight train.

His hips jerked, his length pulsing inside you as he filled you up with his seed.

His body shuddered, his muscles trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over him.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch, his breathing ragged, as he tried to recover.

He lifted his head, his eyes finding yours, his gaze intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.

He smiled, a slow lazy curl of his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I've wanted that for so long,’’ he confessed, his voice soft, vulnerable.“Wanted you.’’

He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, your back pressing against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close.

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in your scent, committing it to memory.

“Can we stay like this for a little?’’ he asked, his voice hopeful. “I don't want to let you go just yet.’’

You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back calming your thoughts.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied softly, leaning back against him, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the comfort of his embrace.

The world outside the dressing room faded away once more, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. “I could stay like this forever,” you murmured, the tension from earlier long gone, morphed into a comfortable intimacy.

Geto chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “Yeah? Just you and me in a tiny room, hiding from the world?” There was a teasing tone in his voice, but you could sense the sincerity behind it.

“Sounds perfect to me,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face.

He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you even closer.. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something more serious, “I really didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his expression.

There was a seriousness to his tone that made your heart flutter. “Yeah? How did you expect it to go?”

He hesitated for a moment, the air between you thickening. “I thought I’d just perform, introduce you to the guys and then... you know, go home. But then I saw the way you were looking at me in that crowd and everything changed.”

You felt your cheeks heat at his admission. “Really? I didn’t think I’d make that much of a difference.”

He chuckled again, but this time it held a hint of vulnerability. “You have no idea. It didn’t feel like I was playing for a crowd. It felt like I was playing just for you.”

His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You took a breath, feeling a mix of emotions.

Excitement, nervousness, and anxiety all at the same time.

“Geto,” you started, wanting to say something meaningful, but the way he held you made it hard to think straight.

He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours. “I know this is all new and kind of overwhelming, but I want you to know that... I’m really glad you’re here.”

You nodded, your heart racing as you looked into his deep, dark eyes. “Me too,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment.

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours, and for a heartbeat, everything felt perfectly aligned. “I don’t want this to be just a moment. ” he spoke, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

The space between your lips closed in an instant, and you felt the spark of connection ignite again as your mouths met.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted against him, the outside world forgotten.

In that small, intimate dressing room, nothing else mattered.

Just you, Geto, and the growing connection that pulled you closer together.

#suguru fluff #suguru x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru #suguru geto #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu smut #geto smut #geto

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na0koz · 26 days ago

Note

Love your toxic/stalker Jinx but like.. what would happen if she got caught? By anyone (Like Vi, Vander, etc) but also/or reader

toxic!jinx masterlist

now i think vi has always known in the back of her mind that maybe jinx loves you a bit too much. but at the same time she didn’t really register all the photos of you on her wall, your name paired with hers written on every surface even her skin, the amount of time she spends out of the house since meeting you.

like vi knows about you, you’re the only thing jinx talks about. she knows jinx, and knows very well that she’s obsessive but she’s never been obsessed to this extent. it concerns vi slightly so she decides to take a look in jinx’s room.

the photos are obvious, they’re literally plastered over her walls. she then notices a corner with a pile of stuff in it, above it is your name in a heart carved into the wall. vi carefully starts to pick apart the pile, finding the nail polish jinx stole from you, the clothes, everything else she pinched from your apartment.

this freaks vi out slightly so she keeps looking around. on her bedside table there is the piece of metal that jinx fashioned a key to unlock your apartment with. the distinct key-shaped cutout, paired with an open notebook listing everywhere you’ve been and everyone you’ve spoken to basically every day in the last 6 months that tells vi everything she needs to know.

when jinx comes home that day, vi is sitting on the couch. unusual for her, she’s generally in her room blasting rock music and wallowing in her sadness over some blue-haired girl. jinx stands opposite the couch, wondering what the look on vi’s face is for.

“are you stalking that girl you’re always talking about?”

jinx freezes. she has no idea what to say.

vi sighs. “you can’t do that, jinx. besides, aren’t you dating?”

jinx looks at the carpet under her feet. “no… i haven’t.. asked her,” she whispers. she cannot believe that she’s been caught. is vi gonna force her to leave you alone? she can’t deal with that, and jinx starts to panic.

vi is close to anger now, “are you kidding? what the hell is wrong with you?! does she know?”

“of course she doesn’t know.”

they argue back and forth for a bit, mainly vi yelling at jinx and jinx cautiously whispering a response, as if you were on the other side of the door listening.

after that, jinx stays in her room for a couple of days with the door locked. every time vi comes knocking, she either stays silent or starts screaming at her to fuck off. her phone is dead and she has no plans of charging it, despite the fact she knows you’ve probably texted and called her multiple times.

instead, she just stares at the photos she has of you, from before the two of you met.

to be honest though, she just goes back to her usual acts after she gets over herself.

if reader found out on the other hand, i had to think pretty hard about what would happen.

i don’t think reader would fully find out what she was doing, but just something surface level. like not the full extremes of jinx’s obsession.

one day, you and jinx had a sleepover and it was the next morning. jinx was laying on your stomach fiddling with the waistband of your shorts when you ask her the question she has dreaded for months.

“have you been following me?”

her hands freeze, eyes widened staring ahead of her. she breathes out a laugh.

“what?”

“have you been following me around?”

“n-.. no? what do you mean?” her voice trembles slightly. she was so fucked.

“i keep seeing you in random places at the same time i’m there,” you talk with an unwavering tone. you need her to know you’re serious about this.

“that’s not me. it could just be someone else with blue hair? i’m not the only person in the world with it,” jinx feigns a small laugh. she’s not sure why.

“no, it’s definitely you jinx. i see your face every time, just watching me from a distance.”

she curls herself into an even tighter ball on your bed. she has literally no idea what to do in the situation.

you stare at her for a bit, noticing her trembling fingers still holding the hem of your pyjamas. you decide you should try and get her to talk, to explain herself.

“i’m not gonna be mad. i just need you to tell me if you have been following me or not.” you’re 98% sure she has been, but maybe it was a coincidence, like the couple of times when you ran into her in public.

more silence follows. a few minutes later, she finally speaks up.

“maybe i have a few times. i just.. worry about you. it’s only ‘cus i love you. i’m just checking you’re okay.” she honestly sounds like she’s about to burst into tears.

“you can just text me and ask how i’m doing, jinx.”

you feel a tear wet your pyjama shirt. this is is honestly not how you thought she’d take it.

“no.. no you don’t get it. i have to see that you’re okay with my own eyes.”

the two of you go back and forth for a while, jinx trying to justify her actions and you shutting her down every time. her arguments have a lot of holes in them.

after a brief pause, you try to reach a conclusion.

“can you just stop following me around, then? it’s scary.”

scary. there is nothing jinx hates more than the idea of you being scared of her.

“i’ll stop,” she breathes. maybe she will for a bit but.. she’ll find a way to keep doing it.

“okay. thank you,” you reply with a sigh, placing your hand on her back to try and comfort her. she had created a significant wet patch on your shirt now, from the involuntary tears falling while she refused to get up from her spot on your stomach.

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m so sorry. i love you,” jinx chants.

you tell her it’s fine.

you’re stuck with her.

#jinx fanfic #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx league of legends #jinx

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twistedpink · 12 days ago

Text

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

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hoonieyun · 1 month ago

Text

now playing...

after midnight - chappell roan

pairing: singer/producer lee heeseung x singer reader "y/n" x singer sim jaeyun

warnings: profanity, suggestive, kissing, heeseung is thirsty, overall 18+ - also this is partially written so please make sure to read the written part so it all makes sense

wc: 954

ignore the time stamps and any possible typos lol

heeseung approaches y/n as she’s mingling with jake and his friends. her smile fading after he taps her shoulder and he comes into view. “can i steal her for a bit?” heeseung asks jake as if jake was the person in charge of you. a recurring behavior heeseung where he felt the need to always show ownership and possession of you when you were dating, rarely ever considering how you felt or how it would affect you.

jake shakes his head and lets you go with heeseung even if you don't want to. heeseung grabs your wrist after failing to hold your hand, dragging you to a part of the venue where you weren’t necessarily seen by a lot of people. “what do you want heeseung? i’m trying to enjoy the party…” you say with a sigh and he tries to reel you in by showing you his big doe eyes and even though it slightly made your heart flutter, you chose to stand on business.

“look, i know i fucked up but just give me one more chance to treat you right.” heeseung says but slows down as the sentence progresses when you just so happen to say the same exact things as him. this was the sentence he had pulled on you in the past and quite frankly, it worked a few times but not this time.

“you didn’t even wanna try a new script to get me back?” you ask coldly and heeseung drops his face like he has been caught. “okay, i just don’t know what to say. i miss you and i know i was a fucking ass but i just can’t stand being without you.” heeseung says and you just watch him, waiting because you know he was eventually going to tell on himself. he had that habit, when heeseung was drunk and he began to ramble at you, if you just stared at him his silent pauses would be filled with more rambling because he wanted to avoid the awkward silence. so he’d fill it with more talking and eventually confess something he didn’t mean to.

“and i don’t know. that sond i made was mean i admit that but did you have to do a collab with jake of all people? you know how much i liked his music and it felt like a low blow.” there it is…

“ha! i knew it! you’re jealous, i can’t believe this is what this is actually about. do you even want me back or are you just threatened with the idea that someone else wants me and that i’m no longer yours?” you ask, anger in your voice and heeseung doesn’t know what to say.

“heeseung, i mean this in the nicest way possible, leave me alone.” you say and although heeseung was expecting something a bit harsher, your tired demeanor and offset to his advances hurt more than your words.

you walk away before heeseung could say another but you don’t rejoin jake and his friends, choosing to find a spot you could be alone for a few minutes.

you turn around to hide yourself from jake as he approaches, half embarrassed that he has to see you like this and the other feeling guilty as you’re bringing down the vibe of his own party.

“you okay, pretty?” jake asks as he pushes open the door to the balcony. the cold air whipping past him as he takes the spot next to you. clearing your throat, “yeah, i’m okay. sorry i don’t wanna be a downer on your birthday.” you say, trying to avoid eye contact but jake softly grabs your chin to make eye contact with you.

“can i be honest..? i wasn’t really feeling the party either.” jake says with a chuckle and he gets a laugh out of you at the same time, smiling even bigger when he hears your laugh that he finds so pretty.

“wanna get out of here?” he asks and as much as you wanted to, you felt bad. “jake, this is your party, you should be here.” you say to him and jake just rolls his eyes with a pout. “nah, everyone in there is probably too drunk to even notice.” he reassures you and for a moment you’re just looking at each other. jake’s eyes are fishing for the small glint in your eyes that tells him you want this as much as he does, and indeed you do.

you take his hand in yours and drag him back inside, past the party, and into the elevator. “where you taking me, huh?” jake says, teasingly and you roll your eyes at him playfully as you drag jake to your car.

the drive back to your place is filled with laughter and singing random songs with jake. he couldn’t believe this was finally, his crush on you was finally progressing to something more. his eyes widened at the sight of your apartment, a high rise but humble home that screamed your style. cute figures and stuffed animals scattered throughout the home and empty cans of energy drinks on your kitchen counter.

jake is taken out of his thoughts when you slam the door behind him and you grab him by the collar. “do you think i’m pretty?” you ask even though you already know that answer to it. jake nods, desperation in his eyes as he looks down at your lips.

“do you wanna kiss me, jakey?” you ask and he nods eagerly, answering faster than the first time. you don’t even get a chance to lean closer to jake before he crashes his lips onto yours. a moment he had been waiting for.

masterlist - back - next

hoonieyun notes: trouble in paradise for heeseung means smooth sailing for jake! what do we think jake and yn are going to do once they get to yn's place? do a puzzle? coloring book? bake cookies?

also please answer the little poll, the result doesn't affect the story but i'd love to see yalls input

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

taglist: @17ericas @wave2hoon @nikiswifiee @kitzzenz @jae-n0 @dreamiestay @milanco @thinkinboutbin @who-tf-soddhi @yourssincerely-mimi @m3wkledreamy @aespaqq @isa942572 @riribelle @st4r-g1rlllsblog @heartheejake @pochakkeu @nyxiebabyyy @l1vw00n @ningningiloveumarryme @softchannie @jakeyverse @payformycoffeeandleave @alpha-mommy69 @starry-eyed-bimbo @insommni4 @wiccangirl29 @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @blockbusterhee @heeaxvhhoon @yjngwon04 @mingyudids @zyvlxqht @sxnmavi @poeticjustice1010 @paririnnn @1starqi @whoa-jo

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parkerflix · 2 years ago

Text

—love countdown

min ho x gn!reader

genre: the lightest angst, fluff

wc: 2.2k

synopsis: minho’s party brought to light a few things.

a/n: thank you for all the love on part 1 ! As of right now there are no plans for a part 3 but if something comes to me it’s possible!

The days after the interaction with Minho, you avoided him at all costs. You still hung out around their dorm, but always checked with someone if he was there. Both you and Kitty had an eventful chuseok and were always asking for advice and to rant to Q.

Today was the same as the other days, you invited your brother and kitty out for coffee.

“Kitty, I love you but can we please talk about something else?” Q said, sipping on his coffee. She let out a huff and turned to you.

“So, what’s going on between you & Minho?” she said slyly, giving you a knowing glance.

“There is nothing going on between me and him. I’d prefer to not talk about it.”

Both Q and Kitty could immediately tell that something had happened, but you were too stubborn to say anything.

Feeling the air grow stale, Q brought up something he had hoped would lift your spirits.

“Have you guys decided what you’re wearing to Minho’s party?”

You glared at him, he was so oblivious sometimes.

“No, I’m not going.”

“Me either, he hates me plus Dae’s going to be there.”

Q sighed.

“Come on, you really wanna spend a Friday night inside?”

You and Kitty glanced at each other before nodding your heads.

“I think it’s a perfect day for a movie night don’t you think Kitty?”

“Why you’re absolutely correct, Yn! We should look at our watchlists and make a spinner for it!”

“That sounds like a great idea!”

Q just watched the two of you act this out, half amused.

“Are you guys really going to let Minho, Dae & Yuri ruin your fun?”

“It’s Minho’s party, he probably doesn’t even want me there.”

“You never know if you don’t go. Please?” Q held your hand and you rolled your eyes.

You hated when he acted all cute, he knew that you’d eventually cave and say yes.

“Fine. But only if you help me look for an outfit.”

“Deal. I’ll text Florian to come with us. Kitty?”

Kitty smiled at the two of you, a look of determination crossing her features.

“I’m going too. I’ll prove to Dae I’m over him!”

Both you and Q stared at each other, knowing that was far from Kitty’s truth.

—

Minho’s date with Lulu had gone just okay. She was great, but his mind seemed to be somewhere else the entire night. He couldn’t get it out of his mind the way you stared at him, and the way he almost kissed you.

If you guys had kissed how would you have reacted? He wasn’t sure if you even remotely felt how he did. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he felt about you. He had always just seen you as annoying, but deep down he knew he saw other things in you. It frustrated the hell out of him feeling this way, and with you acting all strange afterwards, it made him more frustrated.

He had thrown himself into the planning of the party, not even knowing if you had decided to go.

He had gone to Q, pretty much asking him in a roundabout way if you were going with him.

Q had just said some skeptical things, and didn’t clarify anything for Minho. He sighed, and shook his head, trying to figure out the last finishing touches of his outfit.

—

The music was blaring from the speakers and you were already regretting this. Out of the two of you, Q seemed to be the more extroverted one. You enjoyed going out from time to time, but you also loved your space. The music was so loud that you could hear it from outside. The bouncer was letting everyone in from a list, and you weren’t even sure if you were on there.

Did Minho even want you at his party?

You and Kitty finally made your way inside, looking for Q and Florian. Kitty looked stunning, and she really seemed to glow with confidence. You felt comfortable in your outfit, having had Florian and Q have the last say so.

Your shoes were slightly uncomfortable, since they were brand new. You cursed yourself for choosing the new ones instead of your trusty going out shoes, but everyone argued that they matched better.

Minho was sitting with Dae at the bar, happy his friend showed up. They were chatting away, when he saw two people pass by him, both standing out. He excused himself from Dae & walked in their direction, stopping in his tracks when it saw it was Kitty and you.

Kitty looked great and he was surprised she could clean up nicely, but you. You made him speechless. You looked amazing, and also so relaxed. He saw you laugh at something Kitty had said, and he saw the way your eyes lit up when Q found you both.

He wanted to go up and sweep you away from everyone, to tell you how great you looked and how happy he was that you were there.

You had been eyeing the entire club, finally making eye contact with Minho.

Both of you felt as if time stopped for a moment, just the two of you staring at each other, a sense of yearning in the air. You quickly looked away, a faint heat felt on your cheeks.

You reached up and touched your cheek, catching the attention of Florian. He smirked at you, knowing that if he looked in the direction you were staring at a few seconds ago, he would see Minho.

Florian and Q escorted the two of you to the bar, getting you both mocktails. You knew underage drinking was frowned upon heavily in Korea, but had done it in the comfort of your dorm before.

Kitty thought that your drinks had alcohol, slightly surprised when Q told her that they were alcohol-free. Florian quickly remedied that, pulling a flask out and pouring some clear alcohol in all of your drinks.

You all clinked your glasses together, your heart feeling lighter with the presence of the people around you.

—

An hour had gone by, and you had lost track of where Kitty had gone. She could very obviously not hold her liquor, and at this moment neither could you. You found yourself in the lounge, your eyes focused on your cosmopolitan.

You knew you were possibly drunk, but you didn’t really care. The past hour was pretty much spent babysitting Kitty, making sure that she stayed away from Dae, who much to your surprise showed up. You knew this wasn’t his scene, and when you saw Yuri in the crowd dancing with her friends, put two and two together. They came on a “date”, but at least seemed to be having fun together.

Q and Florian had snuck away somewhere wanting some alone time. The very thought of your brother having alone time with his boyfriend made you wanna gag. They were super cute together, and you really were happy that he was happy. You couldn’t help but be jealous, you wanted that.

You sighed, not noticing someone sat next to you.

“Tired?”

You turned to the owner of the voice, seeing one of your classmates sitting next to you.

Jace was an expat like you, coming from England. He was a year older than you, but shared the same chemistry class with you. He was Alex’s TA, and you would strike up conversations with him about topics whenever he looked super bored.

You smiled at him, nodding.

“Tired. Don’t you just hate it when you’re the only one who’s like, alone? alone… a, lone… that’s a funny word.”

Jace had an amused look on his face, letting out a laugh. It was so obvious you were tipsy, the slight slurring of your words making him laugh.

“I do hate it sometimes, but sometimes you just gotta think there’s someone out there for you.”

You leaned in close to his face, evidently unaware of all the personal space bubble rules you were breaking.

“Do you think there’s someone out there for me?”

Jace’s eyes scanned your face trying to figure out what he should say.

“I think so.”

You hummed, nodding your head. You pulled back from his personal space, content with his answer.

Jace held your hand that was next to his, intertwining your fingers together.

“Has anyone told you that you look stunning tonight?”

You gave him a lopsided grin.

“Only tonight? You don’t think I look stunning in our very attractive uniforms?”

He laughed, and shook his head.

“You look good everyday.”

“You’re such a charmer.”

“Is there anything wrong in me telling the person I like that they’re attractive?”

You felt your heart stop for a moment, at his very sudden confession.

“Jace, I didn’t know-“

He smiled at you, gently squeezing your hand.

“I didn’t expect you to. Plus I figured I didn’t have a chance with Minho interested in you as well.”

Minho. You had tried so hard not to think about him all day, and the mention of his name made your stomach turn.

“Minho does not like me, and there’s nothing going on between us.”

That last part of the sentence made your heart ache, but you were too far gone to want to notice it. Minho was someone who you wanted, but didn’t want you. As much as that hurt, you had someone in front of you who did like you.

Jace brushed some of your stray hairs behind your ear, and his hand hovered over your face.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

“Okay.” you whispered to him.

You both inched closer, nearly kissing when a clearing of the throat made the two of you jump.

You both turned your heads and saw Minho standing there.

He had a very neutral look on his face, but his eyes were telling a different story.

“Oh hey, man. What’s up?” Jace said, the slight annoyance in his tone noticeable.

Minho had a tight lipped smile at the two of you.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to take Yn to their brother. It’s very urgent.”

You got up, albeit a bit wobbly, and gave Jace a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, maybe we’ll catch up later?”

“Yeah no worries, go see what happened. You know where to find me.”

Minho rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched.

You made your way over to him, and Minho took you by the hand and led you away.

—

It took you all of two seconds to realize Minho had lied to both you and Jace about Q needing you.

“Minho, where are we going?”

You were met with silence.

You both finally made it to a secluded area of the club, which you assumed was the VIP lounge.

Minho finally dropped your hand and ran his hand over his face. He stepped away from you, clearly trying to create some space between the two of you.

“Minho?”

He sighed and looked at you, clearly annoyed.

“What were you doing before I got there?”

“I was talking with Jace.”

He let out a humorless laugh.

“If that’s talking, I must be the president of Korea.”

You didn’t understand where this was coming from.

“What does it matter to you? My business is my business.”

“It matters.”

“You’re deflecting. What does it matter that I was talking with a guy?”

“Because.”

You were getting frustrated with him now, the alcohol in your system making it too difficult to have any sort of conversation without showing your true feelings.

“Minho, we’re talking in circles. My love life, my friendships don’t pertain to you. I can talk to whoever I want to talk to. Obviously since you can’t tell me why it matters to you then it doesn’t mean anything.”

You blinked and before you knew it, his arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

“Minho?”

He stared into your eyes, hesitant on what he would say.

“It matters because I like you.”

Before you could say anything, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.

When he broke apart from you, he rested his forehead on yours.

“Who you talk to matters to me, because I like you.”

“Minho… I like you too.”

He smiled and kissed you again, making your heart swell with happiness. He peppered your face with kisses, and you laughed, not ever having seen this softer side of him.

—

Some time had passed, you both migrated to the couch.

“So.”

“So what?”

“Can I take you on a date?”

You nodded and kissed his cheek.

“I’d like that very much.”

The music outside of the room stopped, and the both of you looked at each other confused. You checked your phone, and saw that Q had texted you that Professor Lee and Principal Han had found out about the party and were currently breaking up the party.

You quickly got up and grabbed Minho’s hand, sprinting to the doors, as quick as you could.

A bunch of your classmates were also running, and Minho caught on pretty quickly to what was happening. You both ran out of the club, making it a few blocks away from it until you both ran out of breath.

You guys had made it to a nearby night market, and you texted Q that you were alright.

Minho grabbed your phone out of your hands, and put it in his suit pocket.

You looked at him confused and he just smiled at you.

“So, how about that date?”

taglist! @lavnderluv @nellyboosworld @callsignwidow @srslyfngrl @rueluvsharry @n1niunwo0 @valenftcrush @mimihiraijeon @huang-the-geek @saintomie @tocupid @rockinggirl06

name in bold means i was unable to tag you!

#xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty drabble #xo kitty #xo kitty fan fiction #min ho x gn!reader #min ho x reader #minho x reader #lee sangheon x reader #lee sangheon #paris writes

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goodlucktai · 4 months ago

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13 with sunset duo :)))

dialogue prompts

13. “I would believe that you’re fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so.”

Raph probably would have been successful in sneaking to his room if Mikey hadn’t decided to swing by the kitchen for a snack refill. When he flicks the light on, his biggest brother freezes mid-step cartoonishly and they both just stare at each other, one caught, the other confused.

“Uh, hi,” Mikey says. “Is your Goon Gala with Casey over already?”

It’s what the former Foot recruit calls it when she and Raph get together to be rowdy and reckless and somewhat violent but like recreationally. Full throttle vigilantism. Mikey tagged along once and was so exhausted by the end of the night he had to be carried home—allegedly!!

The twins quietly disapprove, but they haven’t ratted Raph out to pops yet. They probably think the same thing Mikey does; that it’s good that Raph has something that’s his. It would be better if it was something safer, shared with someone slightly less likely to commit felonies for fun, but it’s a start.

“Uh, yep,” Raph says awkwardly, standing kind of sideways. “Raph’s actually pretty wiped, I was gonna—”

Mikey’s eye for color pings. That’s the only explanation for why his subconscious was like hey something’s wrong about this picture and his gaze flicks down to follow the thought.

It lands on the hilt of a knife sticking out of the thigh Raph is trying to keep out of view. Deep red drips down his knee.

Mikey drops the empty popcorn bowl, stray unpopped kernels scattering across the floor.

“Hey, hey, no, it’s okay,” his brother says quickly, heading off the very loud reaction he can sense building up between them like an active geyser. “Shh, Mike, come on. I’m fine.”

It would work a lot better if one of the two hands he held up to shush him wasn’t bloody. Mikey’s panic wracked up another three levels automatically.

“I would believe that you’re fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so–”

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote.

“Don’t language me!!” Mikey says shrilly. “What happened? No, don’t answer that. I know what happened, you got stabbed. You should be in the infirmary already! You go, and I’ll get—”

“No!” Mikey is grabbed by the shoulders, actually lifted off the floor so he and his brother are eye-to-eye the way Raphie has a bad habit of doing when tensions are high as Raph goes on, “Leo doesn’t need to know. I’ll take care of it.”

Mikey blinks, processing that. It takes a minute, because it might be the stupidest thing this particular brother has ever said directly to his face. And then he scowls.

When he bellows, “LEO!” it’s in that particular baby brother voice that gets every older sibling in a mile radius moving with gusto. If Donnie weren’t at April’s for the night he would have removed the kitchen wall to get there two seconds faster.

As it is, Leo tumbles into the room wild-eyed, probably wondering what the hell could have happened in the three minutes between Mikey asking him to pause the movie and this targeted attack on every protective instinct in Leo’s body.

It takes him a second to clock that Mikey is present and correct and just sort of dangling in Raph’s hands still. Then he leans against the doorframe, playing it cool. What a nerd.

“Guess this is where the party’s at,” he says, doing that thing where he manages to look at Raph without looking at him. “So what’s the cover fee? Any live music?”

He probably would have kept going, but he’s processing the scene with sharp eyes, and that’s about when he connects the blood on Raph’s hand to the blood on his leg. Every single ounce of disingenuous charm and cheer evaporates from him instantly. His smile drops like a ton of bricks.

“What the fuck, Raph?” Leo says in a tone Mikey doesn’t know if he’s ever heard from him before. “Is that a knife? Casey let you get fucking stabbed?”

He moves while he’s talking, so fast that Mikey isn’t a hundred percent sure he didn’t actually teleport. He has the daisy-printed dish towel formerly hanging on the oven door in his hands and he’s kneeling at Raph’s side, wrapping it around his thigh and pressing down hard.

“Jesus, language,” Raph says, lowering Mikey to the ground before taking a resigned seat in one of the kitchen chairs. “Casey didn’t let me do anything. I’m fine, I’m handling it. You should see the other guy.”

“You’re—you’re handling it,” Leo parrots blankly, as if those words in that order don’t make any sense to him at all. “I should see the other guy. Is this a joke to you?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” Raphael’s annoyance makes sense, since Leo has adamantly refused to take anything seriously since he was given the leader badge to wear. If Leo slacked off before, he is pointedly doing the absolute bare minimum now.

He’s obviously trying to prove something to someone. Donnie just sighs when Mikey brings it up which means that he’s right but also that Donald isn’t going to break the disaster twins’ honor code by admitting out loud that he’s right.

“This isn’t about missing training,” Leo grits out, really, properly angry. “This is about you sneaking around with a knife sticking out of your leg and scaring Angie and letting me find out by accident instead of—I dunno—calling the second it happened? Were you just going to go yank this out of your leg in the shower and put a bandaid on it?”

Raphie is in pain, and his temper has been poked, so he replies, “For the past month you’ve been acting like nothing matters to you anymore! You’ve wanted nothing to do with me, you don’t want my advice, you don’t want my job—the job that’s always been mine, that pops took from me and just handed to you. So where’s the line drawn? For all I knew, you wouldn’t want to help with this, either.”

If Raph had slapped him, the look on Leo’s face probably would have been exactly the same as it is right now. He’s kneeling there on the floor and there’s blood staining his fingers and the big brother he adores so much is telling him right to his face that he thought Leo would have rather just let him bleed than help. And Leo let him think it this whole time, all because he had a point to prove.

Mikey folds his arms tight, tucking his hands away so no one sees if they start shaking. There’s a saying April quoted last week when she was working on a paper for her Introduction to Literary Journalism class, can’t see the forest for the trees. Mikey didn’t get it then, but it makes an unfortunate amount of sense now.

He knows better than anybody how much his brothers love each other. He doesn’t understand how they could be so blind to what’s right in front of them.

Raph is the kindest person in Mikey’s whole life and can always tell when a hit has landed too close to heart. Some of the anger coiled up inside him like an animal has no choice but to relax its jaw.

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head,” he admits. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to stop,” Leo says. It’s not a shout, but it’s loud, bouncing off all the polished surfaces until it fills the whole room. “Stop believing in me. Stop acting like I could ever be half the leader you were. Stop—stop getting hurt and acting like it doesn’t matter. What would we do without you?”

What will I do without you, he doesn’t say, when you’re not there for me to follow anymore?

Raph’s eyes are huge in his face, and he lifts his hands in an automatic response to a little brother hurting within arms reach, but Leo ties the dish towel and steps back. He’s doing the not-looking-while-looking trick again.

“Bleeding’s slowed. Let’s get you to the infirmary, big guy. Angie, Dad and Dee aren’t home so I may need your hands, okay?”

Leo always trusts Mikey to be able to help. It makes him feel three feet taller.

“You got it!” he says, hoping one of them remembers to clean up the kitchen before Splinter gets home and wanders into a crime scene.

When he heaves himself off the chair, Raph staggers a bit. Both his little brothers flock to either side of him instantly, and he says, “Raph’s just a little dizzy, that’s all. Let me lean on you guys for a bit.”

“Of course, Raphie,” Mikey says, willing to carry him if that’s what it takes.

“We gotcha,” Leo adds, every other thing he must be feeling back to being a well-kept secret behind every layer of armor he owns.

Raph puts his arms around them both and holds them close for the walk down the hall. He said he was dizzy, but his steps are steady. Everything about him is as steady as it’s always been. Mikey thinks he’s pretty good at sniffing out a scheme, but if he points out that Raph was only angling for a hug, then Leo’s going to run away like a feral cat who can’t tell the difference between affection and an attack.

So Mikey doesn’t say anything, and squeezes closer beneath the arm Raph has around him—smiling to himself when Leo squeezes closer, too.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #sunset duo #hamato michelangelo #hamato raphael #hamato leonardo #a team #my writing #prompt #anonymous #tmnt fic #me writing the tense part of this fic #my music on shuffle: H O T T O G O 💃🕺

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iloveriddles · 5 months ago

Text

Imaginal Disk Storyline + Lore.

Okay, this is all opinion and my theories.

From What I can tell, “Imaginal Disk” is about two people: our protagonist, True, and a sub-protagonist of sorts, Ghost.

True lives in a house away from town. All she can do in her house is watch TV and journal.

True hates herself, and has never felt loved, or really sees love anywhere. She is very depressed. She can’t bear to look at herself in the mirror, even. She hates the way she looks, as we see on the mirror from imaginaldisk.world in True’s room. Her face is all distorted and swirled if you click it.

She never sleeps because she “spends her days chasing clouds and counting sheep, waiting for the night to creep”.

She does this because in the field outside her house, during night, a mirror appears and in it she sees a person who looks like her. This is Ghost. I am not sure if this happens every single night, or just some, but True seems dedicated to talking to Ghost at any chance she can take.

Ghost sleeps every night well and wakes up to be in the field, opposite to True. At her side of the mirror, it’s daytime.

I know their names because of the journals in True’s bedroom, where the lyrics for Fear, Sex are handwritten with the name “Ghost” at the top, and the lyrics for Killing Time are written on the first page with with the name “True”.

Ghost, to True, is beautiful in every way. She’s pretty, she’s perfect. She is loved and happy, and True isn’t. Ghost is the “Angel on a satellite”, I am 99% sure. True, from speculation, lives vicariously in a way through Ghost. She wishes she could be Ghost, and it kills her. There’s even symbolism here with Ghost’s lover in the Death & Romance video being made of light and featureless. It’s like exactly what True wants, to “be pined for” as she says in Killing Time (“I don’t care if I don’t sleep // but someone better pine for me”), but she can’t imagine by whom because she has no love interest. She just wants faceless love. She wants to feel like she matters in some way, like she is worthy of time. “There’s always time for killing, but never time for me. It only takes a minute”, she sings in Killing Time.

It’s so sad =( she’s right, though. That’s how it feels. People have time to waste and do nothing, but not time to help their close ones when they’re in a low place. It’s neither party’s fault, but still “True”.

True’s room is also the same layout as Ghost’s, but opposite. I think they are maybe versions of themselves from parallel universes or something like that. There is also implication that they start seeing through each other’s eyes in intervals, and we see this a little at the end of the Death & Romance video when she touches the Disk. I think their brains are connected in some way.

As mentioned, True hates herself and is miserable. I think this is why she gets the Imaginal Disk. We know she watches TV, so she probably saw the ad “True Blue Interlude” which is between Killing Time and Image. Image is her getting diskinserted and going to The Doctor. In the advertisement, it seems to be singing to her. It even says her name, “True”. It’s advertised as being a next stage and phase, it’s like the perfect form of escaping for True. She doesn’t want to be herself, she wants to be “Pure” and a “better her”. I also wonder if True Blue Interlude has hypnotic properties in canon, or anything like that. It’s interesting how this changes Image so much if you know the story. “I’m the best you’ve got, *true* or not?”

We are missing music videos so I am not certain about some stuff. They said on Instagram that they’re making one for Tunnel Vision, which I am 90% certain it will be another True song. True’s eyes do the weird blink thing in the Fear, Sex music video. Also, in “That’s My Floor” the camera zooms into her eyes and she LITERALLY has “Tunnel Vision”.

Also from the “That’s My Floor” music video, we know that after getting her disk True wears red like The Doctor instead of her blue, and starts assisting him in diskinserting. There is so much speculative stuff here right now. For example, I wonder if The Doctor is supposed to be True’s universe’s version of the glowing light guy that Ghost is with. I don’t know, but it changes the songs A LOT if you know that the lyrics are in character. Some songs are Ghost songs, and others are True songs.

In “That’s My Floor”’s music video she accidentally kills the people dancing with her indirectly because she gave them the disks (speculation) so she runs away. This lines up with “The Outskirts” from the website. It says to “walk down and atone for your sins”, also also that “the weight of your guilt should be slowing you down more than that”.

I think it’s about True’s guilt for all she’s done with the Imaginal Disk. When it zooms into her stomach camera? It shows what I think is the reality she actually wants. She wants to remove their disks; but she doesn’t. I also don’t know if Ghost is actually there, or if she’s hallucinating/imagining her to be.

“Love Is Everywhere”, is a Ghost song. She says to “look through the holes in the sky” to “find Love”. I also think Cry For Me might be a Ghost song, because she says “Think of Love and you’ll remember me”. I wonder if she’s going to be killed off or something. This would be foreshadowed by “DEATH and romance”. Maybe The solid light guy (whom I assume went into The Cocoon at The Outskirts) dies, so Ghost does too? Not sure. Speculation.

In Angel on a Satellite, a song I believe to be about Ghost, True sings “A thousand eyes turn to stone and monochrome // surprise, surprise // they turn to smile at the same time”

Followed by

“That’s why I don’t look up // That’s why I’m always dancing”

I think this is symbolism for her depression and inability to feel love.

The “eyes�� can’t feel; they only watch. They symbolize people around her. They’re “stone” and “monochrome” because they are cold and reflective onto her, these represent people in her life that she can’t show her misery around. Like being depressed and having to hide it from your family, or friends that say “I’m always here to listen” but do not mean it in the slightest. She’s “always dancing” because she’s masking her loneliness and self-hate for those watching her.

True has never left love. We know she doesn’t truly. She sings about it multiple times. I think this part of She Looked Like Me! Is about Ghost

“Her hair lifted as she stood still

Right there in the light And she felt like a dream

I didn't know what to think

She looked like me

We stood mirrored 'til I leaned in And then you know what she did

She shot at me like an earthbound bullet

And then she wrapped her hands around my neck and I felt love

Just ordinary love

Let me hold you in my arms

Oh, love, that familiar old drug”

I don’t think Ghost literally strangled her, but instead it’s more poetic symbolism.

In Angel on a Satellite, True sings “I swear that through your eyes everything is brighter all the time // ‘cause when I see me through your eyes I love me, so don’t leave my side // you always see the sky, angel on a satellite”

Ghost “sees the sky” by seeing and feeling love. She literally “looks up”. She’s optimistic, True isn’t. She can’t look up.

Another little detail I’ve noticed is how in Love Is Everywhere, I presume Ghost sings “Look inside through the sky all around us” in the same melody that True sings “Angel on a satellite, glad you found us” in “Feeling Diskinserted?”

I think that the album will end with True going to the cocoon and becoming her ACTUAL “Purest self”. If you spell “Imaginal Disk” with a “c” instead of a “k” at the end, it’s literally a part of a pupa. The Imaginal disc turns into portions of a bug’s exoskeleton after it emerges from its metamorphosis. So, on a literal level, the real Imaginal disk that changes you was THE COCOON ALL ALONG. Maybe the Doctor is doing a shady internet scam trick where you change the URL by one letter and pass it off.

The detail here is so interesting. Even down to their names True is literally her True self. She can’t be anyone else. It’s reality. Ghost on the other hand is like the Ghost of everything True wants to be.

I also noticed: The Doctor’s laughter from Fear, Sex plays in the bridge of Cry For Me. I bet we will get a music video for it. I wonder what is happening with the Ghost and aliens storyline.

Anyways, I have so much to say about this. I have more even than this. We are missing music videos so I will be back. I also have to talk about the alien observation plot, but that needs more pondering.

#imaginal disk #magdalena bay

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simp2537 · 1 year ago

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Hey there, I saw your requests were open and just wanted to ask if you’d be willing to do a yandere Percy Jackson x a male or gender neutral reader who happens to be an actor— I myself am male, but I also think it’s annoying to look for a fic about your favorite character, only to find out it’s written for the opposite gender. The reader can either be a demigod (probably a child of Apollo or Dionysus since those two are closely related to acting & whatnot) or just some mortal that can see through the mist like Rachel or something. Either way, would you mind writing about Percy seeing the reader & a co-Star share a stage/film kiss? It could even be Percy & Annabeth since both are pretty cool and I like them both as a couple; plus, poly yandere situations are fun. You can also decide whether or not the reader and Percy/Percy and Annabeth are dating or not; thanks for taking the time to read this, and have a great day :)

-🪑 (I am now chair anon)

Stage Lovers

A/n sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, I took a small guess in a few things. Not sure if everything I wrote was canon but whatever. I wasn’t sure if you meant the show of book so if the books image their older and the same goes for the show. Also I used the Little Shop of Horrors play in this. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, possessive behaviors, slightly(a bit more then slightly) himbo reader, mention of killing someone later.

Anon - 🪑

All Characters are aged up to 18 plus

Percabeth x Male! Reader

Camp half-blood was a buzz with people. Apollo’s cabin was preparing the annul musical/play to celebrate their father’s birthday. Percy and Annabeth hovered around the scene as they watched their boyfriend practice his lines with some daughter of Aphrodite. The girl was too close, too touchy, to smiley for the pairs taste. Their sweet and kind boyfriend Y/n just helped her with a smile in his face. Percy kept an arm around the visibly seething Annabeth as they watched. Everyone at camp knew that Y/n was there. They all got the message but this stupid girl.

Open distain was on Annabeth face as Y/n walked over to them. His script loosely in his hands and a bright smile. He’d been working for weeks on this play, but he wouldn’t say a word about it. Y/n being the sweet boyfriend he is, wanted his lovers to be surprised when they watched him.

Y/n kissed Annabeth’s forehead first, hoping to soothe the anger visible on her face, then he moved to Percy. When he pulled away Percy held his hand.

“Who was that?”

Y/n turned his head at Annabeth’s tone. It’s irritated and annoyed.

“Who?” Y/n questioned unsure. Percy traced the back of Y/n’s hand.

“The girl over there, you were reading with her a moment ago Sunni.” Y/n blushed at Percy’s nickname for him. Looking back quickly Y/n missed the look of hatred his partners gave the girl.

“Oh, Vanessa, she’s my stage partner for the play.” The pair stilted. His partner?

“What play are you doing again?” Annabeth pondered twisting a lock of her hair. Y/n’s face lit up and he chuckled softly. The pair basked in awe of his voice. They could listen to him all day.

“Little Shop of Horror… Wait! No! I’ve spoiled it now! It was meant to be a surprise!” Y/n groaned softly. Percy laughed at his silly little Sunni. Annabeth raised a brow intrigued.

“Who do you play?”

“I’m Seymour!”

“And she is?” A moment of silence filled the air after Annabeth’s words. Percy brought Y/n closer and sent him a look.

“Who is she?” Percy demanded not liking that Y/n wouldn’t answer.

“You can’t get mad.” They pair furrowed there brows.

“Why would we be mad lovely?” Annabeth muttered softly moving some of Y/n hair. Y/n didn’t meet either of his partners gazes.

“She’s Audrey.”

Silence echoes through there conversation. Y/n had shown his partners the movie of Little Shop of Horrors once. In that one time they knew who Audrey was. Y/n took a nervous gulp and his partners shared a look.

“Are you mad?”

“No, lovely we’re not mad.”

Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. One of his other siblings motioned for him to go back. Y/n kissed his partner goodbye quickly and dashed back to the stage.

“I’ll grab her after the show.” Annabeth voiced softly.

“Why can’t we grab her now?” Percy snapped. No one other than them was going to touch Y/n. They could allow that.

“We’re nothing going to mess up Y/n’s play, he’s been working so hard. We’ll throw her in the lake afterwards, then celebrate with Y/n.”

With Annabeth’s words said the pair returned there gaze to Y/n who was singing with one of his siblings who was playing Audrey two.

#percabeth #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase x reader #percabeth x reader #percy pjo #percy series

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secretmellowblog · 1 year ago

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i just dont really understand why theyd target les mis? and like. its interrupting the work of actors and crew and house staff who dont have anything to do with fossil fuel corps. people who just paid to see the show who dont have anything to do with it.

i understand les mis is a show about rebellion and humanity but to me it doesnt make any sense.

( i say this as someone whos probably very unaware and very slow to realize the deeper meaning of things so i apologize if it comes off snobby i am just confused !! /genuine )

I'm very sorry if this comes off as rude but like.... "I don't understand why people would use Les Mis as the symbolic centerpiece of an act of protest/rebellion against the government" is just a very strange thing to say, and I'm genuinely not quite sure how to begin to respond XD. Like....it's literally Les Mis. It is Do You Hear the People Sing. The original novel was written to be a political rallying cry, it was written to bind together activists, and it has been used that way thousands of times since its publication in 1862. It's Les Mis, I don't know what else to tell you XD. Also I know this next comparison isn't perfect, but:

“I don’t understand why Les Amis interrupted Lamarque’s funeral. Obviously I agree with Les Amis’s goals, but was this really the right way to protest? Obviously the government is doing something bad— but was this symbolic event really the right place to talk about it? Why even choose to interrupt this event, and the lives of the workers leading it and everyday people attending it? It wasn’t responsible for what was happening!

Okay, yeah, I get the funeral is ‘symbolically significant.’ I get that Lamarque has become, in popular culture, a symbol of rebellion and resistance against a government’s unfair policies. I get Lamarque’s funeral is a pretty big public event that has a lot of symbolic significance ties to ideas of rebellion against the state.

I get that Lamarque’s words are often seen as a rebellious call to action, so illegally interrupting his funeral could be a statement about resisting tyranny. It could be a call to action playing off the popularity and symbolic role that Lamarque has in the public consciousness.

But at the same time— shouldn’t Les Amis have just gone to the palace and attacked the king directly? Why disrupt this symbolic event instead? They’re not really going after the people responsible!

After all, there were so many people there who just wanted a normal day. They weren’t responsible for what the government was doing and had nothing to do with it. They wanted to see the procession, to hear Lafayette’s speech and grieve a political figure they cared for. They wanted to hear people praise ‘resistance’ in the abstract, without actually doing it.

Weren’t Les Amis disrupting that?

Aren’t Les Amis bad activists? Isn’t disrupting people’s everyday lives for the sake of 'activism' always inherently a bad thing? I’m not against activism, but isn’t doing that kind of disruptive activism rude? Isn’t disrupting the lives of ordinary people just doing their jobs or going out for a special event evil— no matter why you’re doing it, or what your goals are, or whether the government actually is doing something vile that we should start to stage great events rallying against?

Even if this Lamarque's funeral has special significance because of its symbolic pop cultural ties to rebellion against tyranny—shouldn’t they have just avoided rudely interrupting some regular people’s everyday lives?

Protests shouldn’t disrupt things. they should be big parades that don’t make anyone uncomfortable, don’t interrupt anything, and don’t disrupt any aspects of ‘normal people’s daily life.’ No one should ever target symbolic events— like a funeral for a political figure or a musical about revolution— to make a political statement. Protests should be little quiet festivals that cause absolutely no interruption in everyday life so that we can all just safely ignore them, until the climate catastrophe they’re warning us about arrives.”

#les miserables #les mis #sklajdfsf sorry if this comes off as rude its also not my intention. im just a bit baffled XD #but slakdjfsdf #no hard feeligns though kinda #but protest is supposed to be disruptive and to prevent life from continuing as normal #and using Les Mis-- a story that is theoretically about rebellion against tyranny-- as the symbolic centerpiece of a disruptive protest #makes a lot of sense #and protests angrily decrying fossil fuel companies is important!#ive noticed its really easy to glorify the concept of protest/resistnace in the abstract #but its hard to deal with the fact a lot ground-level protest. is disruptive to every day people #because its suppsoed to be #and honestly the climate crisis will affect our daily lives far more than student activists interrupting a show #so people wll need to get refunds XD

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tyunkus · 1 year ago

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these days i’m thinking about … fwb service dom tyun… finals week has been kicking your ass, and all of the stress from your different courses and whatever workload you have has been taking a toll on you mentally and physically. and everyone can see it - especially taehyun, who refuses to let you off the hook, and wants desperately to take your mind off of it all.

so he makes an offer.

let me take care of you. he says it when you’re both drunk on the floor of your apartment, trying to take the edge off the upcoming weeks. you had been whining about it all night, how stressed you are, and now he’s looking at you so soft, so serious, you’re taken aback.

obviously, you refuse. you know what he means by taking care of you - you’ve slept with him before. but you don’t need dick to get through finals season, you can handle it perfectly fine on your own!!! and you tell him this, and he nods, shrugging it off, but the air is so thick between you two you know he’s just itching to prove you wrong.

& he does. there’s this party you attend, the night of your last day of exams - it’s like your reward after so many nights of frustration and cramming. letting yourself loose, getting some drinks in your system, dancing away all your stresses, and taehyun’s there, of course he is, hand placed casually on your waist while you two eye the crowd, holding your drink for you when you slide over to the dance floor. taehyun takes care of you, watches over you like he always does. he even humors you, getting a whole bottle of alcohol and holding it barely above your lips while you tilt your head back and he pours it down your throat. holds your chin after and wipes off a drop from the corner of your mouth. you know, that sort of thing.

but then somewhere along the way it gets too much - the lights, the music, the heat. somehow the same feeling you came here to avoid - that sense of guilt, self-hatred, anxiety - bubbles up in you and robs you of all your energy. taehyun notices, probably from the way you stumble a little bit, and when he holds you close and your face is pressed close to his neck all you can muster is, “can you—can you take care of me now?”

and before you know it you’re locked in a random room with him and you’re on your knees. he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, peering down at you while you sit all pretty between his legs, and you can’t quite tell why or how it happened, not exactly. and now… now you don’t know how to feel. certainly the random surge of anxiety that had hit you earlier has disappeared, and now taehyun doesn’t look too worried anymore - but maybe that’s more concerning, his strange look of relaxation. like he has no care in the world.

then he leans over a bit, closer to you, and he cups your cheek, so gentle, so sweet. “you finally agreed,” he murmurs, his thumb sweeping over your face. “you don’t need to worry. you’ve done so well. you can relax now.”

you believe him. you really, truly believe him. you think about the past few weeks and suddenly none of it seems all that important anymore, not when taehyun’s holding you like this. like you’re precious. you melt a little into his touch and he just smiles, his dimples showing. “you’re ready, then? finally had enough? couldn’t take it anymore?”

you’re breathless, flushed, almost ashamed at the implication. sure, you’ve slept with him plenty of times before, but that doesn’t mean you need him, it doesn’t mean you-

“relax, baby,” taehyun interjects, breaking your train of thought. “let me take care of you, alright? just like i promised. it’s all that i want. it’s all i ever wanted.”

me & my obsession w transactional sex w taehyun that actually has feelings and both of u r too dumb to realize

#in honor of finals week #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #taehyun hard hours #taehyun smut #taehyun hard thoughts

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niragisqueenofhearts · 2 months ago

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~Lured to the music.~

Arthur Fleck (Joker) x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+‼️MINORS DNI‼️ nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, semi public sex, brief mention of violence, drinking, smoking (cigarettes)

Word count: (rechecking...)

A/N: Just a cute little dabble i thought of last night. I’ve been obsessing over Joaquin and his characters lately so i thought why not add him to the roster. I’m not the type to add music to fanfiction but two songs i listened to helped inspired this- I’ve got it bad and that ain’t good by The Oscar Peterson trio and If i tell you I love you by Melody Margot. Do with that information what you will.

More fanfics to come!

Enjoy!

————

This was it, everything Arthur has ever dreamed of was finally happening tonight.

Tonight, he was going to be on the Murray Franklin show.

He strutted down the streets in a red suit, complimented with a green dress shirt, orange vest, a face of clown makeup and a head full of green locks to top it all off. He hummed a melody to himself as he made his way down the sidewalk, taking brief moments to dance and bask in his own glory as he passed by the many windows, each with their respective people inside looking over at him. They were all staring up at him like they had never seen anyone like him before. He smiled, waved, even blew kisses as he basked in his glory.

Arthur's actions soon came to a halt as a sound caught his attention. Down this very small driveway like a path, he could hear the faint sound of a piano playing. A soothing jazz melody wisped through the air and into Arthur's ears, his curiosity peaked, and he'd decided that he needed to find out where it was coming from. Sure, he had somewhere to go, but a little detour never killed anybody, right?...

Arthur followed the music, the notes getting louder with each minute as he searched for the source, and very soon he found it. The music led him to this scenic hideaway. He looked through the windows to see the space filled with the regular white collared joes, all enjoying a drink as they spoke to each other. Arthur hated these guys, the ones who had it easy, the ones who used mommy and daddy's money to fuel their own selfish lives while people like him died in the dirt. No, Arthur would not stand it. Not anymore. Tonight was a night when the world would be set straight, to get him and others like him justice - one way or another.

Arthur pushed open the glass door that stood before him and ventured in. The smell of smoke, alcohol and sweat greeted him immediately. The music had a hold on him and was pulling him closer. The workers around him all took brief glances at him, the usual side eye, furrowed brows and judgement passed all around him, Arthur didn't care, he just wanted the music. The bar seemed like something out of an old mafia movie, it was dimly lit with lamps in the corners.

The bar sat to the left of the area, it's counter lined with the same copy and paste guy wearing the usual black trousers and white button-down shirt. Further down to the back was a stage where the band sat. The gentleman that sat on the piano looked at his instrument with such love as his fingers plucked the strings so diligently. Arthur smiled, swaying his body gently to the melody that danced around him, getting lost to its beauty.

He did a quick spin and as he stopped, there you were. Like the other men you were wearing the matching attire, except a skirt, black pumps and pantyhose. You sat on the stool with a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Your eyes were closed as you swayed with the music's melody, taking the occasional sip of your drink or a drag of your cigarette. Soon you gave up on nursing the drink and just gulped it back in one swipe before placing the glass onto the small table next to you. Must've been a pretty hard day at work. Arthur wondered what you did for work. Probably some type of accounting or something.

Suddenly the piano stopped, the quiet rustling of things filled the room before a quiet "Two, three, four." count. Then the next song began to play, this one was more upbeat, with lyrics of the inadequacies of words and the depth to feelings to prove of love. You took one last drag of your cigarette before stubbing it out into the ashtray next to your glass and rising from your seat. You wanted to dance. You stumbled slightly as you walked away towards the dance floor but managed to keep the rhythm as you made your way onto the dance floor. Arthur grinned at your clumsiness as he watched you, clearly, you've had a bit more than just the one scotch he saw you nestling on.

It all seemed to change once your heels clicked onto the tile floor. The music took over, like a marionette puppet and you begin to twist, and turn and sway with the music that poured in. Arthur watched you like a hawk, even stepping away slightly to adore the full body vision before him. The passion in your body, the anger, the love in every move and gesture. It was all so real. The song seemed to come alive. Like a siren leading a sailor to the slaughter, you enticed and tantalized those around you and a death Arthur welcomed.

Slowly he made his way toward you, watching your body as he mirrored your rhythm with his, and that's when it happened. A single graze of fingers across you looked and gazed upon the clown that stood less than an arm’s length away from you. Maybe it was because you had a few to drink, maybe it was because you didn't care, but there was something about this clown that intrigued you. Something in his eyes, or maybe his outfit or maybe it's the fact that you haven't seen somebody like him before. Whatever it was, you let the magic of this person fill you, he pulled your soul from its cage, leaving you feeling free and wild.

Arthur gently took his hand in yours, in a swift motion he spun you to face him, his other arm snaked around your waist. The two of you stood there just for a moment. He was waiting, waiting for you to do something. Scream, push him away and call him a creep, but you didn't. Instead, you brought your other arm around his neck, and now began this tango of your own making. The two of you moved like dancing figures in a choreographed routine. Now you were no professional dancer, and neither was Arthur, but the two of you together danced like how the ocean flowed. Your intricate footwork like you had rehearsed, the way he pressed you against him, how you both molded perfectly together, and how you both held on for dear life to each other. There was nothing in the world but you two. And it felt so good to have someone so beautiful at your side.

At a point in the dance, he'd release your hand and let his fall to your hip. You'd let your now free hand rest upon the back of his neck, softly playing with his waved ends. The two of you were so close, you could feel his heartbeat against your skin. Your eyes never once left his. In just that moment you both were connected, spiritually, emotionally, physically. As the last seconds of the song played, he dipped you before bringing you back up to him. He leaned closer into you, your noses grazing together as you both fought the urge to just kiss right then and there.

"You're a good dancer." You finally spoke.

"I know." He responded, a smirk beginning to creep on his face.

He held you until you balanced, then finally released your hips. Your body ached for his touch but neither of you made any move to leave.

"What's your name?" you asked, as you stared into the blue depths of his eyes.

"Arthur." He answered quietly. He gave on last polite smile before turning and walking over to the door.

You couldn't just leave it there surely, so you began to follow him. You walked as carefully as you could through the crowd before stumbling on your heel and tripping into two gentlemen, who had now spilled their drinks onto each other.

"Fuck!" One cursed while the other groaned and turned to face you. You stepped back slowly, your hands on your agape mouth.

"I am so sorry." You exclaimed as you looked between the two, a hand over your forehead.

"Jesus Christ, could you have been a little more careful?"

"This stain is never going to come out!"

One by one, the men berated you for a simple accident. You didn't really care about their feelings, you just wanted to speed this up to catch the clown about to leave.

"I'll buy you another drink-"

"Oh, so you can spill it on us again? Jesus what is wrong with you?" One of the men interrupted as he grabbed napkins to clean himself and his colleague off.

"I'm sorry." You said again as you attempted to head toward the door, unfortunately, one of the men grabbed your arm.

"No sweetheart, you need to take care of this. This is a very expensive shirt that you ruined."

"Just send me the bill." You grimaced at the touch of the man as you tried to pull away from him.

"Oh honey, I think it's going to take more than that." The man spoke condescendingly.

You've seen this before all the time. Men not taking you seriously in the working world of corporate. Men who objectified and sexualized you, who thought you were some sort of toy to be used and thrown away, people who thought they were better than everyone else.

"Get off of me!" You shouted as you made another attempt to release yourself from the brute. And just when you thought things we're getting bad, a single punch hit the man that held you captive and he fell to the ground almost instantly. The other gentleman raised his fists, prepared to fight which was interrupted by the cocking of a gun and the barrel aimed in his face.

He slowly unclenched his fists and held his hands up in mercy as he lowered himself onto the seat. "Woah man."

Soon another witness caught sight of the weapon and that's when hell broke loose.

"Gun!" Yelled a voice and soon the entire crowd, including the band members and bartenders all ducked down for cover. You looked up at the armed assailant to see the same clown face you’d known from before. Arthur came back.

He took your hand in his, and with the gun still held tightly in his other hand, he dragged you out of the bar, and started running.

As Arthur pondered where you two were going to go to hide from any potential police on their way, you were more surprised with the fact that you were able to keep up with Arthur while wearing stilettos. The sound of sirens in the distance caught your attention and then you both really started to panic.

Arthur found a shortcut which landed y'all in an alley behind a vacant building that used to be a restaurant. You both ducked behind some wooden boxes and crates that sat there as a police car drove past, coming back out from the cover once the coast was clear.

You panted as you tried to regain your breath, the adrenaline was pumping though your veins and you couldn't stop shaking from both fear and excitement. You leaned against the stack of boxes behind you. "Holy shit."

You hadn't noticed the way Arthur looking you, his eyes roamed you from top to bottom, his gaze travelling from head to toe and back again in wonderment and awe. He licked his lips as he stared you down like he'd been stranded in the dessert for days, and you were a bottle of water. Boy was he thirsty...

He inched closer to you, closing the space between you too. You noticed this, finally looking up at him and your breath hitched as he stood just a breath or two away from you. He placed a hand on the boxes, holding himself up as he leaned into you. His heavy breathing caressed your lips and made you shudder ever so slightly. Your heart was racing at the mere proximity. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel yourself growing hot under his intense stare. He took one more good look at you before finally crashing his lips against yours. At first you were startled by his sudden boldness, but after just a second, you embraced his embrace, returning his embrace.

The kiss started slowly, soft but firm. Slowly, your tongues began to duel with each other as Arthur took control and gently pushed you backwards into the boxes and crates behind you. You moaned as he nibbled your bottom lip.

You brought your hand to cup his cheek and the other to snake around his neck. He followed suit, wrapping a hand around your waist and the other making way to the back of your thighs, beginning to gather your skirt above your knees. His fingertips grazed your skin lightly, leaving trails of heat in their path. You gripped tightly onto him for dear life, trying desperately to make this as perfect as it could be. You gasp as you felt his nails dig into your soft flesh before running his palm over it, soothing the ache. In a swift motion, he lifted you onto the stack of crates. You helped him, removing the hand from his neck to pull your skirt up further. The sound of the unbuckling of his belt soon followed.

He pulled away from the kiss leaving you breathless. You watched as he loosened his pants completely, finally reaching into his underwear and pulling out his more than eager member. For a guy as skinny as Arthur, he sure was very well endowed. You reached between your thighs and pulled your panties to the side, you were ready for him, you needed him.

He placed one hand on the small of your back bringing you towards him as he guided himself to your entrance. You shivered as he slipped inside of you, feeling the tip of his sex stretching you open for him, then the rest of his length followed.

You exhaled a sharp breath as he bottomed into you, holding onto his waist. You stayed there for a moment, Arthur relished the feeling of your wet heat engulfing into him, then he pulled back and delivered a hard thrust making you gasp, then another, then another and another....

Each thrust Arthur delivered, you met with them every time, thrusting your hips towards him. He'd release the crates and wrap both arms around you, one tightly around your waist and the other around your back, his hand gripping the base of your neck as he brought you closer to him. He picked up his pace, thrusting deeper and harder and faster until the sounds of your pleasure filled the quiet night air. You gripped onto his shoulders as the crates rocked with the fervor. Arthur's quite moans and grunts of pleasure filled your ears as yours filled, his strong fingers digging into your flesh were bound to leave bruises.

It wasn't long before you felt that familiar pool of heat beginning to fill your loins, you were close and so was Arthur. He pressed himself fully within you, causing your walls to wrap tighter around him.

You both continued to move with a frenzy, both of you losing control. Both of you moaned out in unison, as you'd finally approached your climax. It felt like hours had passed and yet it wasn’t nearly enough time at the same time. You threw your head back as your orgasm ripped through you, shudders and shivers ran through your spine. Arthur held onto you tighter than ever as he grinded his hips into you, filling you with every drop of essence spilled into you.

The both of you huffed into the air as you recollected yourself from such a powerful orgasm, your chests heaved with each breath you took. Arthur pulled out of you completely, and readjusted himself, placing his cock back in his pants and zipping it up. He smiled softly at the state of you as he helped you readjust yourself, pulling your skirt back down to its respective length and helping you back onto your feet. You were disheveled, your lips painted with the red paint he wore on his face, and your hair a mess from how much sweat and exertion you put forth, and it was all because of him...

He cupped your face before bringing you back into another hard kiss, imprinting the color once more before pulling away with a gleeful smile. "Enjoy the show." Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion to his words. What did he mean? Enjoy the show? That was a weird comment if there ever was one.

It was all he said before he went on his way, pulling a cigarette out of his coat and striking a flame on the end of it.

You took one more deep breath as you can feel the emptiness around you now that he was gone. You shook the feeling as you noticed how late it was getting; you'd better hurry up before protest became more riley.

On your walk home, you caught glimpse of yourself in a window, catching the red paint that stained your face. With your sleeve, you rubbed yourself raw, even spitting onto the fabric to be sure you got every trace of it off. God forbid your roommate caught that when you got home, that'd be a very awkward conversation to have.

"Hey, I'm home." You announced yourself as you entered your apartment, your roommate Marcelle sat on the couch watching tv. She turned to look at you.

"Hey, oh... Are you okay?" She asked, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Yeah..." You answered. "Why?"

"You look really flushed, are you getting sick?"

Your eyes widened at her comment, if only she knew the events that occurred earlier.

"No, I'm fine. Had to walk past some guys fighting because of the protest hubbub, it's got me a bit shaken up." You lied to her.

She shook her head in disbelief as she took her gaze back to the television. "People are just crazy these days..."

You chuckled. "Yeah."

You made your way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, disappointed to see the lack of sustenance that sat inside.

"Don't worry about dinner, I ordered a pizza." Marcelle spoke loudly from the living room.

"I love you." You responded as you made your way toward the couch.

"I know." Marcelle smiled. "Come, watch something with me." She patted the seat next to her on the couch. You accepted taking the seat.

"Okay... What are we watching?"

"The Murray Franklin show."

#joker folie a deux #joker x reader #joker x y/n #joker x reader smut #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x y/n #Joker

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odyssean-flower · 1 year ago

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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

Previous | Next

A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

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#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #my works #the winding path of fate

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miela · 1 year ago

Text

Shattered Memories • Chapter I: The Expo & The Files • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: Angst Chapter Warnings: Flashback Death (writing it hurt me lmao), Mentions of substance abuse and alcholism. Masterlist

↪ divider by firefly-graphics

DIARY / Dream Log #3 / 10 NOV 2024

Dear Diary,

I dreamt of him again last night…the faceless boy

For the past few nights I've been dreaming of this boy. I didn't remember the dreams but I remember him. I can't remember what he looked like. It's like I remember the essence of him. Like he existed but he's nowhere to be found.

Only this time I remembered.

We were at the studio on a rainy day. I was wearing a long sleeve fitted crop top and matching leggings with my ballet shoes on.The pink of my slippers were a stark contrast against the black of my outfit. He was wearing a black fitted muscle shirt with black leggings under a pair of loose fitting Midtown Tech PE shorts. He was wearing a pair of star wars socks, which I found quite adorable. We were dancing playfully around the studio as we laughed at ourselves for not dancing so seriously but instead sliding across the floor and twirling each other as if we were ipart of a dance number in a musical

I wish I could remember his face.

I remember loving his smile. It's such a pretty smile, that much I know…but I don't remember what it looks like. I just know it brought me comfort and joy. His hair is soft and curly. He has such lovely hair. It feels soft and silky in my hands as I ran my hand through them a few times just to feel them. His eyes are puppy-like but I don't know what color they are. I just…know how they are.

It's strange to dream of someone and have no idea what they look like, but knowing little details that explains what they look like. It’s like running to a destination and then having no idea where you’re going.

He likes to kiss my cheek and his lips feel velvety on my skin. He calls me different pet names too.

"Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself."

"My little Lovebug."

"Are you hungry, Darling?"

"Princess, you’re doing great!"

"There’s my Pretty Girl~"

His voice is soft, just like everything about him. (Well…minus his arms and chest and abs…) but his voice is like music to my ears. I would respond with my own pet names for him.

“Don’t worry, My Love, I’ve been doing this my whole life.”

“My Sweet Boy~”

“No, I’m okay, Baby.”

“It’s like you’re my own Disney Prince.”

“And there’s my Handsome Boy~”

We danced around the studio for about an hour until we laid on the floor facing each other tiredly. His fingers traced over my hips and waist several times causing my skin to react to his touch. I scoot closer to him until our faces are centimeters apart. I could hear his heartbeat and I’m pretty sure he could hear mine. We have a special connection that is different from most. It was a biological connection that I couldn’t place.

I wish he was real. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so fucking lonely.

I leaned in to kiss him before something happened. He glitched. He glitched and my head felt like it was splitting in half with a migraine so painful that I woke up dizzy, shaking and sweating.

How strange…and terrifying.

[END NOTE]

The night was in good weather and the streets of New York City were bustling and busy, as per usual. Life was moving on as usual. The sun and moon cycled as usual.

The year is 2030.

Five years had gone by after the incident at the Statue of Liberty. Five years since you were forced to forget him along with the rest of the world.

No one knew who Peter Parker was. Not a single soul. To anyone that would be a terrifying thought, but it was something Peter himself had to accept.

He was swinging across buildings in the city one night, as usual. He was on his nightly patrol doing the same thing he's always done—protect the little guy. He figured it would be a somewhat busy night considering today was a special day so, he would probably have to protect some of the…not so little guys as well. He only stopped when he saw one of the big screens in Time Square and decided that this was a good spot to watch from.

It was showing the Stark Expo.

It had been awhile since he'd been excited about the beloved and annually anticipated event. Before, it hurt too much to bear with everything that happened but he was particularly intrigued with this one this year because this is when you made your official debut as the new owner of Stark Industries, and he knew you always wanted to make a big entrance. Much like your father, Tony Stark.

Only you wanted to do it bigger. Better.

Peter remembered different ideas you came up with for when the tech company torch was passed down to you. You said no to fireworks because the constant loud noises bother you and it was disrespectful to veterans, animals and those who are like you and sensitive to sound, even more so as a mutant human with super hearing.Other ideas you thought of were outlandish like setting something on fire or blowing something up (which Peter reminded you, contradicted your statement about the fireworks) and some were outrageous like blasting out of a giant cake. Eventually you came up with a solid plan that seemed to have fit your personality and mission as the legacy. You had it all planned out in a digital notebook with blueprints, lists, distributors, catering options and many more categories. Peter loved to watch you while you were fixated on something. It showed how much passion you had. He wondered how you felt leading up to the event.

He wished he could have been there.

There was a countdown on the screen for when the Expo was going to begin. Peter's friends invited him to go with them to see the Expo but he decided against it and used the excuse of having a lot of work; for school, for home and his job. Really he just couldn't handle the crowd right now he didn’t think he would be able to handle being so close to and yet so far from you.

Also he's Spiderman. He's got his hero duties to do.

With school, work, trying to function as an adult and being Spiderman, he was a busy guy, and that was the only thing that kept him distracted from thinking about his friends, his family, Mr. Stark, you…

Especially you.

There were times when he looked at the necklace you gave back to him and remembered what you had said to him.

"Give this back to me, I'll remember you."

But he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

Five years ago, he had full intentions of calling you at seven like he promised but...he didn’t. He went to your window later that night instead. You were sitting on your bed sadly looking at a picture of you and your dad. It had been a year since you both lost Tony but it was taking you a longer time to move on for obvious reasons. He was your actual father and you knew him much longer. Tony was like a father figure to Peter, but he's been to this rodeo four times already.

This was the first time you lost someone so close to you in such a way.

Peter recalled that day. He remembered how you were.

Pepper had her arm around a crying Peter’s shoulders. Rhodey had given you a sad and apologetic look as you went over to Tony. You kneeled down by him.

"Dad, we did it." You said going up to him, your voice shaking as you put your hands on his shoulders. "Pops, we won. You did it. You…you…"

You paused when you saw the state of him. Half of his body was fried from using the infinity stones and he was taking his last breaths. Peter put his hand on your shoulder and you glanced at him with a fearful and hopeful look in your eyes. He pressed his lips together in a thin line giving you an apologetic and pained look. He had that same look you had in his eyes a moment ago.

“No,” you shook your head and looked back at Tony. “Dad, please. We….we….we won.”

Tony looked at you one last time and weakly pointed to his heart before pointing to yours. You understood what he meant by it and you sighed deeply, nodding before he forced a small smile on his face that was barely there and took his final breath.

Your lip quivered and you leaned your forehead on his. “I love you, Daddy. I love you so much.”

Then the arc reactor light on his chest went out.

Peter sat next to you after a moment and you instantly wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug and you hugged him back both of you crying your eyes out and attempting to comfort each other. Peter had to carry you back and he didn’t put you down until you had cried yourself to sleep on his shoulder.

Remembering that moment and then remembering how you were afterwards, it dawned on him how things played out. Peter was your rock, and you were his, but he had already made his decision.

Your name was called and you perked up before quickly wiping your eyes and softly calling “Coming!”

You put down the photo on your end table and then walked out of your room. Once it was safe to do so, Peter climbed into your window and gathered any trace of his existence and put it in a box and left with it.

Would he regret this? He had no idea.

He had run into once or twice or three times after that but as Spiderman and when he was saving your life from any danger. Nothing too eventful.

And that is how he ended up here five years later with a new life so different from yours.

The countdown made it to the 10 second mark and Peter was knocked out of his thoughts to pay attention to the screen. Once the mark hit zero the intro began.

Instantly he recognized the song. Back in Black by AC/DC.

Different forms of tech and inventions were brought onto the stage in an almost cinematic way. Lights flashed, sparks flew, and the crowd went wild. Fireworks went off in the sky to Peter’s surprise but he was even more surprised when they made no sound. He concluded that you somehow made soundless fireworks. He wondered when and how you came up with that one.

Once the platforms finished forming on the stage he spotted something flying in the sky. He didn’t sense danger from it but it was headed towards the expo.

“Hey Karen, zoom in on that thing in the sky.”

“Okay, Peter.” and with that the lens of his mask zoomed in on the flying object. It was red and gold and mechanical…

Wait, could it be…?

“It appears to be an Ironman suit.” Karen stated.

“Who is it…?” Peter wondered.

“Activating X-Ray Scan Function.”

“Wait a minute…!” Peter panicked. “What if they’re naked…!”

“Be serious, Spiderman.” Karen retorted while deactivating the x-ray scan.

Peter was taken aback by his AI. “Wow, Karen, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“All Stark Industries AI have been updated with a Bestie Feature created by (Y/N) Stark.”

Peter smirked to himself. “Classic (Y/N/N).”

You landed on a mid-rise platform on the stage as it lowered to the regular height. The crowd was cheering loudly as you stepped out of the iron suit and Peter was taken aback.

You looked amazing.

You wore an oversized blazer with a black dress underneath and knee high combat boots. Your lips were painted a bright red color and your nails were a teal blue that Peter recognized you always wearing. Under the dazzling lights of the Expo. You looked happy, healthy and lovely as ever.

Just how Peter hoped for you.

You danced your way across the stage before you stood poised at the podium, your confidence radiating, much like how Tony was. The audience hushed, anticipation hanging in the air as they waited to hear from the new owner of Stark Industries, Tony Stark's eldest daughter, (Y/N) Stark.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests and partners," you began, your voice steady yet carrying an echo of nervousness that Peter recognized all too well that others wouldn’t. “How are we all doing tonight?!”

The crowd went wild and you grinned in response.

"Good glad to hear it because today marks a significant milestone – not just for Stark Industries, but for a legacy that my father, Tony Stark, entrusted me to carry forward."

The crowd erupted in applause, the memory of Tony Stark's genius and charisma still fresh in their minds, even five years after his passing. Your presence on that stage, the spitting image of confidence of your father with a twist of your own determination, stirred a mix of nostalgia and curiosity in everyone. Even people on the street stopped and watched curiously and anxiously. Once the crowd calmed down, you continued on with your speech. Peter sat on top of the tall building that was right across from the screen that he was watching. You looked a little different but you were still as beautiful as he could remember.

“Tony Stark was many things; a visionary, a genius, a multi-billionaire, a philanthropist, an American patriot, a playboy, a raging smart ass…”

The crowd laughed, and you continued.

“But to me, he was my number one supporter, my greatest mentor, my biggest inspiration and my best friend."

You looked back at the Ironman Suit that you arrived in longingly for a moment before turning back to the crowd.

“When I was nine years old, my dad was taken by terrorists. He told me those three months were a huge awakening for him and changed the trajectory of his life. Through those dark times he went in a man, and came out a hero. A year later, he had learned that he had made enemies and then one day, our home in Malibu was blown to pieces. Each and every attempt to knock him down only made him come back stronger and stronger...and each time he became more and more my hero.”

Peter agreed with you from his sitting place in the building and the crowd cheered once again.

“Obviously, I began to notice at a young age what was happening. I did inherit his genius after all. And I began to ask questions, lots of questions.”

“One day he pulled me off to the side and He told me, ’(Y/N/N), one day this company will be yours and I want this to be a learning lesson for you. I want you to learn from my mistakes, instead of your own. I want you to grow to be a better person than I am’... I still hold those words close to me and I wonder how I can even be half of the genius and a fraction of the hero that he was...and still is to many people? I don't think I ever could. But because he believed in me so deeply, I will be. Even though he is gone from this world, he's still in my heart, guiding me.”

"Change is inevitable, and with change comes the opportunity to create a brighter future,” you continued, your eyes alight with determination but Peter could tell that you did it to hide the pain. "My father once said that his suit was a cocoon, and he emerged as Iron Man. Stark Industries is my cocoon, and I am committed to guiding it toward new heights of innovation and impact.”

“I remember his speech here at the expo, after he revealed himself as the iron hero and how he said ‘it's not about us, it's about legacy’. I stand before you as a testament to my father's belief in progress, innovation, and the power of human potential," you stated. "Tony Stark was more than a genius inventor; he was a visionary who saw challenges as opportunities, who dared to dream the impossible and then turn those dreams into reality."

The holographic screens around the stage displayed images of Tony Stark's greatest creations: the Iron Man suits, the Arc Reactor, the revolutionary technologies that had changed the world and his one of his greatest creations stands in the middle of all of it.

You.

“So I will go on with this genius mind and this heart made of gold and iron that I inherited from one of the greatest people I have ever known and be the heir of legacy that he believed me to be.”

Peter looked at the screen, his heart swelling at your words and the emotion and passion in your voice. He could only imagine how this was for you.

"As the new owner of Stark Industries, I take this responsibility seriously," you asserted. "My father's legacy was not just about technology; it was about making a difference. And that is what Stark Industries will continue to do under my guidance, because with great power comes great responsibility."

Peter could have swore that his heart exploded. That was what his Aunt May had told him right before she died. He wondered where you heard it from. “Now, just because I came down in the suit, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be the new Iron Man. Oh no, I’m trying to be a different kind of hero…but I will work hard to find someone who will be suitable to wear it.” You stated and the crowd seemed to look at you understanding.

After that, you spoke of a renewed commitment to clean energy, sustainable technologies, and global initiatives aimed at improving lives.The audience was captivated, witnessing the torch being passed from one generation to another, seamlessly transitioning from Tony's leadership to your vision. Peter was also captivated by the strong and determined person you have grown to be.

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was better that he was out of your memories and your life.

“Now a few words from the man who walked and the man who ran so that I could fly.” You smiled.

Your words resonated deeply with the audience as you concluded your speech. The applause that followed was thunderous, a testament to the faith they had in your ability to carry on your father's legacy. Peter couldn't be anymore proud of you than he already was.

He just wished he was by your side, supporting you.

As you stepped down from the podium, Peter couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment.

The Stark Legacy was in your hands now, and you were ready to honor it and not by imitating your father, but by carving your own path while staying true to his spirit of innovation, determination, and a desire to make the world a better place. Just as you had told Peter once before.

Peter pressed his lips together under his mask as he watched you. He watched as you walked off stage as a video of Howard Stark began to play. He talked about the initial mission for Stark Industries. Then Tony’s video came on, and he spoke about legacy and the future. It sure seemed like the future of Stark Industries was bright with your mission to push it even further with technology for space exploration of the solar system, and making technology that can advance cybernetics and construction tools.

Peter wished nothing for the best for you, but he couldn’t help but wish he could be by your side while doing all of it. Something told him to go to you and tell you everything but another part of him told him to do the opposite and stay as far away from you as possible, but he had decided a while ago that he would just let you have your own space to grow before he attempted to come back into your life…before he would return the necklace to you, but the more he thought about it the more he feared doing it. He had tried once with Ned and MJ before they left for MIT, but he also chickened out. He couldn't even get close to Celina since she was training with Doctor Strange. He figured by now it would be a dead end anyways.

So he promised to support you guys from a distance. A big one.

The wail of sirens echoed down below fading in and out as they passed by and that was Peter’s signal to resume his duty as the beloved web slinging, wall crawling hero that he was meant to be.

You had left the Expo early.

You left after you actually gave your speech. You had better things to do than to pretend that everything was okay. These five years were tough on you. You have lost so much and so many people and even five years later it deeply affects you. You were definitely better than you were years ago though. You pretty much flew off the handle and went off the deep end. You did some dumb shit and did some bad shit, took some dumb shit and took some bad shit and now you’re trying to forget all of the dumb shit and the bad shit. Lucky for you, you always kept a low profile.

Everyone knew Tony Stark had a daughter but he kept you out of the public eye for good reason.

You preferred it that way anyways. It made life and school easier. You went as far as to take up the name (Y/N) Jarvis and take the bus home from school to keep your identity a secret. You were in no way ashamed to be a Stark, in fact, you were proud of it. You just didn’t want the unwanted attention that comes with being a famous person’s offspring. You could already hear the nepo baby accusations for everything (not that they were really wrong…).

So, when you went on a bender for a year, no one knew who you were. When you decided to take things to forget your pain, no one batted a pretty eye.

Except those who did know you of course.

You’d rather not think about how you broke Pepper and Happy’s hearts seeing you like that. Or how selfish you had been. It wasn’t until you were at your worst one day, where you finally decided that you were gonna get your act together. It wasn’t easy…it was far from easy. You had spent the first half of the first year utterly depressed from the loss of your father and the next half was your party girl bender era, much too young from doing anything that you were doing. The year after that was recovery and the years after that was making amends with everything you made crash and burn.

This year you worked. A lot.

You spent most of your time in your lab at the avenger’s compound creating and inventing while also scolding DUM-E, the help robot your father created, for doing too much. Which is where you were right now instead of networking with people you really didn’t give a flying fuckaroo about at the expo.

You had more important matters to attend to.

Usually you would be working on a new AI format (that wasn’t the debauchery that Ultron was..) or the car you were supposed to build with Tony before he passed, but with the world in near shambles all the time, you have a different project you were working on.

The NAI— New Avengers Initiative.

After the fight with Thanos and the blip coming undone by the hands of your father’s sacrifice, shit went sideways in your eyes. You recalled how people reacted when the world went back to normal, you recalled Sam and Bucky going on missions to stop a literal child from causing a mass murder attempt on government officials, you recalled Sam becoming the new Captain America and his beautiful call out speech to those government officials, and you recalled the day five years ago at the statue of liberty.

Sort of.

You had remembered a battle, you had remembered being there with Ned, Celina and MJ, but you honestly weren’t really sure why you were there and you didn’t understand why you were crying so hard.

Come to think of it, why were you crying at all?

You fought all types of enemies including the Big 3 (Aliens, Robots, and Wizards) as Sam likes to put it. You have fought terrorists, governments, hell you have fought in the civil war of the avengers, and yet you had the waterworks about a battle you couldn’t even remember. You blamed it on the realization that you would have to fight big battles without your biological family and chosen family the same way anymore, but…you felt like something else was missing, like a big part of you was carved out of your life. It was like there was this big hole in your chest and you tried to fill it with everything imaginable. You failed miserably.

It must be the dreams you were having.

You kept dreaming about a boy, and everytime you dream about him you’re super happy. The happiest you have ever been. The only problem is you couldn’t remember who he was and why you kept dreaming about him. Since those dreams began you have been having terrible headaches and nothing has been really fixing them. Morgan would tease you in her oh-so-annoying-little-sibling-way and basically say that your brain is trying not to be stupid for once.

God forbid she knew you were dreaming about a boy. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“FRIDAY,” You stated as you sat in your chair in thought. “Pull up all the files on the Avengers.”

“The remaining ones or All of them?” the voice asked.

“All,” you replied. “Minus me, I know me. Very well actually.”

“Pulling up Avenger’s database right now, miss.”

Holographic screens appear in front of you. “Spread them out. Circular please.”

The screens surround you as if they were a council meeting. You walked to each one studying them as you reminisced on your past relationship and current stance with each of them now.

You heavily looked up to Natasha Romanoff and she was like a big sister to you.

Now she’s dead.

You deeply admired Wanda Maximoff, and even had a mini crush on her.

But she went rogue and is now nowhere to be found.

You adored Vision, since he was the personification of AI Jarvis.

But you don’t know what happened to him either.

You also admired Steve Rogers, and he was like a big brother to you.

But he decided to go back to the past and live his own life.

Thor was like your goofy uncle and you loved him like one.

But he has his own thing going on in New Asgard and with the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Doctor Bruce Banner you felt so much for. You honestly admired him too. You were one of the only people who didn’t fear him as the Hulk but rather felt pity for him.

You decided he needed to be left alone, even though he was better now.

Scott was cool. He was also like a cool uncle figure.

But he has other matters to worry about. Including a family.

Same with Clint. You learned alot from him.

But he only came out of retirement by force. You didn’t wanna bother him.

Doctor Stephen Strange you found amusing.

But you currently hate magic, that’s more of Celina’s thing. Possibly Ned too apparently.

You look at each of them as if this is the only way you could send them off with good riddance…for some of them it was true. Some of them you expect to never see again. You long accepted that already and wished nothing but the best for the rest of them and you hoped they all could find peace as much as they could. You sighed and smiled as you looked over all of them, but your eyes landed on a screen that would change the trajectory of your life.

You let your eyes scan the face of a puppy-eyed figure with brown curls and boyish features. There was something vaguely familiar but so foreign about him. It bothered you. You read the name.

“Peter Parker…” His name tasted familiar on your tongue, like you had spoken it many times before.

Could it be…?

“FRIDAY,” you asked. “Give me all the information on Peter Parker that we have.”

“Certainly,” she responded and pulled up more screens. “Peter Parker. Age: 21. Would have been 26 but he was part of The Blip. Hair Color: Brown, Eye Color: Brown. Ethnicity: Some sort of European descent, seems to be English by the last name.”

“Okay, okay but like ...who is he in the Avengers?”

“He is Spiderman and he was taken under the wing of your father.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “Huh? How…?”

You knew Spiderman. You remember Spiderman as your partner on Missions. You two bonded over the fact that you both had Spider powers. You even built his and your suits and begged your father not to tell him that it was you for some odd reason…oh yeah you had a major crush on him. Your suits synced up to each other making you both the Iron Spider.

Two Spider Mutants + Stark Tech = Iron Spider.

As you scanned your neurons for memories, you tried to remember his face. Surely, you knew his face…but you couldn’t place it. Really, all this time you just thought Spiderman was Harley Keener, but now that you think about it…nothing in that thought process would make any sense. After all he’s from Tennessee and has been in the same room as Spiderman. You recall sleeping on the Quinjet with Spiderman with your head on his shoulder and his head on top of yours. You recall even fighting “against” him in the Avengers Civil War.

That’s a different story for a different day.

You went through a plethora of memories but you could never remember his face and it peeved you to no end. Did he just hide his identity from everyone? He was young and honestly you did the same thing for a while, so you don't really blame him. After you gave the heroic works, he continued being the friendly neighborhood spiderman, helping the little guy. But things weren’t adding up in your mind still.

Especially if he knew your father on a close level to wear he took him under his iron wing.

“Peter Parker,” you said softly again. “Who are you? How did you meet my father…? Are you the boy in my dreams…?”

“The Database says he was part of the Stark Internship. Which was a Pseudonym for his Avenger call.” FRIDAY responded.

“Something isn’t adding up,…” you said, chewing your lip, vexed. “Why don’t I recognize him?”

“Would you like me to do a deeper search, miss?”

Invading his personal information? You thought.

“How deep are we talking, Fri?” You squint your eyes at the picture of Peter Parker, as if you were addressing him.

“I can go as far back as to the day he was born and as deep as to where he is right now.”

You nearly fell out of your chair. “FRIDAY…!”

“It’s the way I was built, miss. You can’t blame me.”

You snorted.

“FRIDAY, that is stalker behavior,” You respond, thinking no more than ten seconds on the idea. After all, if you knew each other personally I’m sure he told you most of this stuff already.

And if he’s the boy from your dreams…

“Do it.”

And this is how everything changed.

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