#defenses that were built up from the time she was a child | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chuluoyi · 5 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, marriage of convenience, explicit smut, pregnancy

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the second part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.2k ! thank you so much for your love in the first part🩵 but as of now, TAGLIST IS CLOSED so i'd appreciate it if the comment section won't be flooded with asks for tags :')

credit header goes to @/mongsanghwa in twitter!

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Heavens, help me... I love her too damn much!

For Gojo Satoru, love was once an abstract concept. At first, he thought it was admiration, or a sense of obsession—

But on the day he watched you become Zen’in Naoya’s bride, Satoru realized it was much deeper than that. It felt like the sharpest sword had pierced straight into him and lodged itself there.

And then, years later— as if hearing his prayers, you became his. Since then, his life was perfect, because he wasn't lying when he said that you were everything he wanted in life.

Yet in a twist of fate, that same sinking, horrific feeling washed over him... as he watched the pagoda he built for you engulfed in flames.

You were there. Satoru felt himself staggering as he took in the mortifying sight. You and his unborn child are inside!

He didn't waste a breath as he dashed towards where you were, crushing everything in his path in the process, but just as he was about to enter the scorching temple—

“Satoru, no!” Suguru grabbed him, restraining him with his own body. “Get back!”

“No!” he screamed at him frantically. “She is there! Suguru, let go—!”

And then the worst happened, as the pagoda completely crumbled into a heap of rubble. Satoru's breath was knocked out of him as he faced the reality that he couldn't save you in time. And he felt like losing his consciousness as he wheezed, and thrashed in Suguru's hold.

It was all too much for him to comprehend as he struggled against the devastation before him.

How... did this happen? You were happy. You were about to welcome a child into your lives! The two of you really were...

SEVERAL WEEKS PRIOR

Your husband is trying to use you to wage a war... against your homeland.

You secluded yourself in your study, trying to make sense what you just overheard.

In a broader perspective, Satoru's actions could be constituted as national defense. If he perceived the Eastern Empire as a threat, then countermeasures were indeed necessary. But if not...

Regardless, it was not the very idea that blew you, but how he planned to use you to sway sentiment in your former country, to weaken them.

Is that what he's been aiming all this time? You felt like a hypocrite to question this since you too were using him. But these days, you were certainly not using him—you were falling in love with him.

It was strange, because you were supposed to be furious if that was his intent from the start. Yet what you felt right now was profound sadness, possibly even denial and heartbreak. You kept thinking how there must be another explanation—

“Sweetheart, hello~!”

You were startled when the door to your study was suddenly flung open, and the man from your thoughts strode in with a broad grin, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"Satoru." You fixed him with a genial smile, even as nausea churned within you. Straightening your skirts, you looked up at him.

"I've been told you haven't been well, and Shoko said you've seen the physician," Satoru frowned, his long fingers cradling your face as he half-sat on your desk. "How did it go? What did he say?"

"Oh..." you clammed up, feeling at loss. "He said..."

Your dashing husband tilted his head curiously, bright eyes softened, worried lines etched on his face were so clear... and despite your conflict, you didn't have the heart to deny him this news.

"I'm with child." This time, your smile was genuine as you pushed back your intrusive thoughts. "Satoru... I'm carrying our child."

For a full ten seconds, Satoru was stunned, staring at you with a blank expression, his lips slightly parted. "H-huh...? Child? A... baby?"

"Mm-hm. A living baby."

"O-oh..." Satoru blinked his eyes rapidly—looking at your face, then your abdomen—before his expression broke into absolute wonder, broadly grinning. "T-that's... oh— it's—!"

To say he was speechless didn't cut it as he stuttered, messed his hair, pinched his own cheek, becoming restless yet looking so incredibly giddy—

"My queen!" Satoru suddenly lifted you and spun you around midair. "My beautiful wife—!" before gently sitting you on the desk and burying his face in your skirts, hugging your waist tightly. "Good lord, I'm— I'm so—!"

It hadn't truly dawned on you until now that you were going to become a mother. Witnessing Satoru's unabashed reaction as he nestled his face into you… nearly brought tears to your eyes.

Right in this moment, you didn't entertain any other thoughts. You were deeply moved by your husband's overwhelming excitement for your baby. And the realization that, despite Naoya's accusations—

Satoru looked up at you the second you sniffled, and he immediately drew you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hey, no tears, yeah?" He rested a hand on your jaw, his eyes sparkling with utter adoration as he gazed at you. "This is wonderful. We're going to be parents. This child... a part of you and me—we're going to bring them into the world."

You tugged his collar close and brushed your lips against his. And he responded with equal fervor. You yearned for this closeness with him.

. . .

But still in the back of your head, that lingering, buried fear whispered—

Is the man who adores you this much... capable of hurting you to the same extent?

With your bare bodies pressed closely, and you under him, Satoru could sense the rapid beat of your heart. And in return, you felt the heat of his palms against your skin and the tremors in his breath.

Yet now, in your marital bed, it quickly became clear to him that you, who were usually so composed and collected, were nervous. Satoru couldn't suppress the smile spreading across his face even if he tried.

"This is far from our first time, Empress." His coy smirk taunted you as he littered kisses along your jawline and chest. "What are you so jittery about, hmm?"

"Ah..." you let out a soft sigh as he sucked your breast with his mouth. "N-nothing... you're mistaken."

"Hmm... not confessing? Right..." He then grabbed the generous mound of your other breast and fondled it, making you squirm and moan.

But in the midst of this eroticism, suddenly your mind was thrown back to—

“That’s why I have her here.”

"Satoru," you breathed out, catching his hands. He looked up to you in slight surprise, thinking that you wanted to stop.

But he was in for a plot twist when you first pushed him, then flipped him underneath you, straddling him and capturing his lush lips, yanking his hair in the process.

"Whoa— hey..." Satoru held your hips, visibly startled but clearly enjoying your sudden whim, snickering. "My queen—ohh— you're a sight to behold, on top of me."

He grabbed the flesh of your bottom, sinking his fingers into it and pulling you forward. You let yourself be moved until your thighs were next to his ears.

Suddenly, it was, at once, the most peculiar experience—the greatest confidence boost you had ever received, and the hottest thing he had ever seen.

"You're so damn wet already," your husband nipped your inner thigh playfully as he observed your folds, and you gasped. "Are you ready?"

In response, you slammed yourself onto his face because, right now, you were in a less than forgiving mood.

"You look good under me," you darkly retorted, but then you choked on your own breath when your husband started licking your folds messily with his tongue.

Satoru smirked at the sound of your breathless noises, responding by lapping even more fervently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tightening their grip on his scalp as you began to grind yourself against his face.

"You a-are really n-nasty!" you moaned, voice breaking at the feeling his sinful tongue parting your opening. "Maybe y-you have lied to me… all th-is time."

Satoru furrowed his brows in slight confusion, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, as he pinched your clit in retaliation, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.

"You're— awful!" but contrary to your claims, your face contorted with pleasure as the tight coil in your belly spasmed. "How m-many women... h-have you beguiled like m-me?"

He almost laughed into your ass. Literally. If being called awful was the price for pleasuring the most beautiful woman in the lands, then Satoru would be happy to be that horrible person every day of his life.

But then, you suddenly shifted on top of him, no longer positioning your hips in his face, and he quickly caught your face, crashing his lips against yours so both of you wouldn’t part for even a second.

"Nobody else," he murmured, wet lips and tongue ravishing yours, so much lust glistening in his eyes. "I'm all yours— forever." Just as he whispered it amidst pants, he groaned when your hand sneakily went to his very hard length.

And firmly grasped it. He got swollen just by tasting you and hearing your noises earlier. He growled, and against his senses, he pushed you down to lodge it inside you, penetrating and splitting you apart in one go.

“Ah—! Satoru— it’s too…!” you babbled breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling his huge cock pulsing inside your tight walls.

“Your fault,” he rebuked, eyes narrowing into darker shades, rigorously moving his hips against yours as he sat up. It was impossible to hold it in any longer, he could feel it already.

He tensed up, adjusting his position, so close to losing it inside you, and when he heard your dirty mewls and felt you shudder—reverberating through his body too—Satoru gripped your waist tighter, groaning, holding you in place to release his load inside you with precision.

Your body gave in as well, releasing at the same moment his cum burst inside you. Your vision blurred as the nastiest of moans escaped you, yet you felt so safe as your husband caught you in his arms.

. . .

"Are you okay?" Satoru asked worriedly after you rolled off him in the aftermath of your bliss. "Do you feel sick?" Your unfocused eyes met his, and he looked panicked, pulling you closer. "Shit, did I go too far? I shouldn't have, especially with the baby still in the early stages..."

"I'm... okay," you croaked, trying to reassure him. "Just tired..."

Heaving a relieved sigh, Satoru pecked you in the lips.

"Am I... a mess?" you leaned on him with a blissful smile, feeling his cum still trickling out between your legs.

"Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is." Satoru chuckled, reveling in the state of your disarray. "Soon enough," his hands traced your skin before settling on your tummy, a fond smile curving his lips. "Our baby will grow here."

"Yes—" you replied, placing your palm over his. "Do you... want a boy or girl?"

A boy would be the much sought-after prince, and you fully expected him to favor it, until to your surprise, Satoru lightly hummed and pressed a kiss on your belly button.

"Does that matter? What's important is you deliver them safely and they're healthy," he chuckled. "A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you."

"But the heir has to be a prince..."

"Nah. I can always amend the succession norms. I'm the emperor."

And you giggled next. Seeing how free you looked, Satoru thought you were the woman overturning his skies and stars, and you truly are—as now you are the mother of his own flesh and blood, his future empire.

There will be a nation-wide celebration for you. Satoru insisted it was a must, and he would invite dignitaries from neighboring empires and kingdoms as well.

Including the Eastern Empire.

. . .

“Your Majesty. I... bring a gift and an invitation from the Western Empire.”

Naoya clacked his heel on the carpet, casting a sharp, yet uninterested look at his aide.

“There will be a celebration for—” the poor man gulped uneasily, faltering as if he could foresee how his emperor would react. Naoya scowled.

“Spit it out.”

“The former empress’ pregnancy, Your Majesty!”

“What...?” At that moment, he snapped his head towards him. It felt like everything he had ever known came crashing down. “Y/N...?”

That can’t be possible. For many years both of you had failed. That was why he took that maid and divorced you. No, upon reflection, it was never truly his intention to divorce you—he had wanted you to raise that child if you couldn't bear one.

But then you completely ignored him and had an affair with Gojo Satoru. He was furious. He couldn't bear the disgrace of it all, so he went with the divorce, if only to assert some control. However, the joke was on him, as you ultimately fled with Gojo entirely.

But if you aren’t infertile... Then, what did that make him?

Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. Was it possible that it was his child instead of Gojo’s? How many months had it been anyway?

...or could it be that he is the one who is—!

“No...” he muttered, frantic, taking sharp breaths. “Absolute rubbish!”

The aide stared at him in fear, as Naoya appeared unhinged now. But soon, that fear gave away to pity, as the emperor trashed his desk and howled in frustration— but contrary to the expected fury, Naoya looked like he was mourning, evident by the way he flung everything but the very portrait from his coronation day.

Of him and you. Even after that disastrous divorce, he had never taken it down from the wall of his study. Now, Naoya was staring at it, a multitude emotions clouding his eyes.

This man, just as the aide had always thought, has thrown away the only good thing he has in his life.

“Are the invitations sent already?” Satoru asked with a blooming smile, rolling the yarn out of his cat’s reach as the poor kitty grappled to catch it. “And how are the preparations going?”

“Banquets are usually handled by the Empress, but you really go out of your way and do it instead,” Suguru shook his head, unamused by the added workload it brought him, especially considering his disinterest in festivities.

“They’re all sent, some of them responded—before you ask, Naoya hasn’t— and I’ve cascaded the preparation to Shoko, since I have no clue what to do about it.”

“Well, not that I care if he’s going to stay sour and wants his name tarnished in the daily papers as a bitter ex-husband…” Satoru shrugged, petting Sugu-chan as the cat purred contentedly. “He is tactless, he very well might be.”

“You really want to spite him, don’t you…” Suguru sighed. “You even sent him a note. It was unnecessary.”

“He was the one hurling curses at me and my empress first. I’m just returning the favor.”

The note in question was of lines after lines of flowery nonsense about gratitude and whatnot. Satoru imagined Naoya's vein would burst after reading his card.

“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” As exasperated as Suguru was, his smile was genuine when he said it. “A royal baby, huh...”

"Suguru." The emperor's voice suddenly dropped an octave, surprising him. "What about the placement of the totem I told you the other day?"

The abrupt shift in conversation made Suguru visibly uncomfortable, and again, they were back to this topic.

"You're seriously going to do this?" the duke asked, almost in disbelief. "Satoru, you're going to become a father. You have everything already. This will lead to war one way or another, and—what if the Empress finds out? How do you think it'll make her feel?"

However, Satoru's gaze was cold as he dismissed most of Suguru's tirade. There was a chill in his expression that made his longtime friend inwardly questioned who the man before him was.

"I'm asking you. Have you done it or not, Suguru?"

"You're going to put a curse on a whole village, Satoru."

"I told Zen'in Naoya the moment I got Y/N, that it would mark the beginning of his downfall. I'm making good on that promise."

Suguru pressed his eyes shut to calm his fury. Morally, what Satoru did was wrong, but politically, this was the art of war. Suguru purely opposed to this out of consideration for you.

Few understood Satoru's actions as well as Suguru did. He might understand, others like you and Shoko wouldn't.

"Just remember, when the Empress catches wind of this, she's going to resent you," Suguru warned. "No matter what your reasoning might be."

Satoru's upper lip curled upwards, his eyes bereft of light, narrowing with indifference.

"Unless you never tell her, that is of no relevance."

Love... has he ever loved you all this time?

Naoya had never been confronted with that question or pondered it, simply because he never considered love existed within the context of something as grand as monarchy.

You were chosen because you were well-bred and well-versed in the arts of nobility. You were indeed the epitome of an ideal empress, a fact evident throughout your tenure.

But...

"Naoya!" you yelled at him and caught his hand. "You're a fool! Why did you keep doing that!?"

It was a long-buried memory, when you were still in your teens, around the time you were just made the crown princess. His hands, bruised and bloodied, and you tended to them.

"I'm not weak, you know," he sullenly barked. "I have to train to be stronger."

"You definitely have to train, yes... but you have to take breaks!" you retorted angrily.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" he snapped back. "It's not like your hands that are injured."

And that moment, you were suddenly almost in tears. Naoya never understood why.

"Don't cry." But his instincts told him to make you not cry. "Don't cry. I'm fine, see?"

. . .

Zen'in Naoya jerked awake from his slumber, realizing he had forgotten what his dream was, that it was still the late afternoon, and he was still in his study.

All he felt was that nostalgic feeling, and it intensified when he glanced up... only to see his coronation portrait on the wall.

It was almost as if you were still here. You were incredibly stunning, he had to admit that. Why hadn’t he realized until just recently?

The way your crimson dress flowed out, and that thin, serene smile on your face... you were a picture-perfect empress, and that was not an exaggeration. No one could measure up to you—

"Your Majesty~!"

Especially not Hanabi.

"Your Majesty, the princess has started holding her head up!" Hanabi, now no longer dressed in rags but rather in one of your dresses, excitedly remarking, "Soon, she will start to—"

Naoya's gaze fell on her dress. He recognized it instantly. That specific deep, vibrant shade of red with serpent-like waistband. It was one of his gifts to you for your birthday. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Huh?" she seems perplexed. "Oh this... I thought it looks pretty..."

But to her surprise, he suddenly flared with fury. "That isn't yours, you dullard," he spat out.

Her expression sank in heartbreak as he continued with his venomous speech. "Know your place." His words cut like a blade. "And I keep telling you, a princess is of no use to the throne!"

Hanabi fought to hold back the tears, because not only had he insulted her, worse still, he showed no interest in their daughter. "She is still of your blood, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling.

"I told you, I only want a heir." His sneer caused her eyes to widen in shock. "Other than that, I won't care."

"Your Majesty, please—" Hanabi was desperate for him to acknowledge their daughter, when she caught sight of your ethereal face on the wall.

He still hasn't taken it down. It made her eyes twitch, and her own anger to rise.

"The former empress..." she stared at your picture resentfully. "You still have her here. We never even have our portraits painted..."

Naoya's icy gaze leveled at her without a hint of sympathy, despite the woman standing before him being the mother of his child.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Hanabi asked, tears spilling from her eyes. "You used to care for me when you thought I would bear you a son. Even if it's a daughter, she deserves love too, doesn't she?"

In the last five years, she had come to know that the emperor wasn't always this manic person. He used to be gentler, or at least not as vindictive.

And she never truly wanted you to be cast away like that. She looked up to you, admired you from up close, and meant it when she said she would carry your legacy as best as she could.

"Are you dumb?" Naoya barked. "I told you to know your place!"

...yet why? Why are people in this palace so harsh to her?

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi. Beware, the emperor is fickle…”

Your unkind eyes, Naoya's disdainful stares even after she gave birth to his child... She didn't even care about becoming the empress anymore. She just wanted a happy life!

"If it was the former empress' child... even if it was a princess..." Hanabi turned to him with determination even amidst her pitiful tears. "You wouldn't cast her aside just like you do now with my daughter, would you, Your Majesty?"

Naoya's gaze, devoid of emotion and filled with blatant disinterest more than anything, shot through her, hurting her more than if it was filled with fury instead.

The lack of warmth in his stare made her feel like being looked through rather than being seen. As if she is that insignificant.

"Leave," he ordered coldly next, turning his back on her.

And there is her answer.

Hanabi had been your maid for five long years. She knew who you were, what you stood for, and your whole demeanor. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could never emulate you in the same way, could she?

. . .

"My lady... don't you know that the former empress is with child?"

Once again, Hanabi felt the sting of ice when her lady-in-waiting delivered the news.

"Empress... Y/N?" she whispered. "How...?"

You were stripped of your titles here, and yet you still remained a queen somewhere else. Hanabi might have won Naoya's favor, but now she was losing it while you had another emperor's affection.

Not much had changed about you. You still occupied the highest seat a woman could possibly attain. Whereas she...

"But she is barren!" she turned to her confidant then, almost in disbelief.

"Evidently not. Emperor Gojo has proven that."

How nice. A part of Hanabi wanted to congratulate you because she knew of your sufferings—how much you longed to hold a baby from your womb in your arms.

How unfair... But another part of her couldn't help but despise you. Because even in your absence, she still had to live in your shadow. Because you, who had lost everything, regained it all so easily.

"And my lady... Emperor Gojo is going to throw a banquet for this occasion next month. You are expected to attend it."

"Sweetheart, you asleep?"

One night, several weeks later, just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt the sheets shift as Satoru slipped into bed beside you.

Though you didn't turn to face him, you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist from behind.

"Satoru... you're back," you murmured sleepily.

"Mm-hmm," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair, taking in your scent. "Shoko told me you've been in your bedchamber since breakfast. Are you okay?"

"I get queasy if I walk too much, so I've been lying down all day... But don't worry, the physician said it's normal in early stages of pregnancy."

His grip on you tightened, as he caressed your belly. "Hmm, naughty baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here..."

"Where were you?"

For days now, he had been away, and you hadn't really questioned him. You had your guesses though—

"I was overseeing the construction of a new pagoda," he said softly, kissing your neck. "For you, actually."

That was so unexpected that it made you open your eyes fully. "What— for me?" Building pagoda was definitely not a small affair. Usually it was for religious purposes.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby. It's expected to be completed before your celebration banquet."

The tower would be the testament of his love for you and your unborn child. Despite yourself, your heart swelled with overwhelming warmth.

"You're so silly... why do you spend the tax funds for that?" you brushed off the faint heat in your face, not daring to look at him still.

"Whatever I wouldn't do for you?" he cheekily retorted, chuckling.

You had never felt this cherished before, and this time you were certain—you were more than ready to fall in love with this man.

But he... is planning to use you, isn't he?

"Satoru." You shuffled to turn and face him, causing him to crack his lidded eyes open. You gazed at him, placing both of your hands on his face, caressing his face softly.

You're so kind to me. I appreciate you for that. You wanted to tell him various things, but the darkness in your heart ever since overhearing his exchange with Suguru made it hard for you to do so.

"Mm? What is it?" he drawled with a small smile, leaning into your touch.

“You... love me, don't you?”

His bright eyes found yours then, sharp and steady. An impossibly fond smile graced his lips, as if finding what you said the most natural thing there was.

“Throughout heaven and earth,” he proclaimed, his voice steady to match his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”

...then you would trust him, if only just for this moment. The genuine sincerity in his eyes, the raw authenticity in his words... it all felt too real.

And so, even when you were well-aware of the bitter possibility of truth, you leaned in and kissed him, giving yourself to his touch as his hand slipped inside you.

And soon, came the day of the lavish banquet solely held to celebrate your pregnancy.

You were seated on your throne, dressed in a stunning aquamarine gown. The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, spilling onto the floor in a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Upon your head perched your crown of diamonds, glinting beneath the light, and your ceremonial veil to make you look as queenly as you could possibly be.

Everyone would agree that you were a sight to behold, and that you were worthy of every praise possible.

"Many congratulations to you, Your Majesty."

"This is a splendid news! A royal baby!"

"To think that the emperor has settled down... sniff, how long have we been waiting for this...? We almost gave up."

You almost giggled at the way Archbishop Yaga wiped his tears with a handkerchief as he presented you with his gift.

Despite your initial reservations, you enjoyed the festivities more than you expected. You had opposed the idea at first, finding it quite unnecessary, but Satoru had pouted for three long days until you eventually relented to appease him.

Speaking of him, he was equally dressed to impress, looking every bit as an emperor he was in an exquisite aquamarine military uniform and robes. Despite engaging in conversation with Earl Nanami, he kept a watchful eye on you, stealing glances in your direction to ensure you were well.

You nodded at him, and he threw you a wink. You smiled.

Everything was truly going well... until the herald announced:

"Prince Megumi and Royal Consort Hanabi from Eastern Empire!"

There was suddenly a hush over the crowd as the two made their entrance. You stilled, looking at the figure responsible for your checkered life—

Hanabi was starkly different since the last you saw her at the courthouse during your divorce. Her dress was now a vibrant shade of burgundy red, reminiscent of a gown you once wore. Gone was her air of humility, replaced by a display of extravagance befitting a noblewoman.

She is no longer your maid, but Naoya's consort. There was no trace of the woman who once served you. You were actually impressed, as she could actually shape herself into the image of a royal consort.

"Empress." However, your attention quickly shifted to Naoya's nephew, and once also your ward, Megumi, as he bowed before you respectfully. "Congratulations."

A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you regarded the young prince who had once been a very shy individual. It reminded you of the days spent with him just to get him out of his shell.

"Thank you, Megumi."

"Diamonds suit you far better than golds do. I wish only for the best for you, Your Majesty."

It warmed your heart, really. Using that reference to your gold crown from your time in the Eastern Empire, you could see how much Megumi truly understood your position and bore no resentment towards you.

Could the same be said for Naoya though?

Right after you received his gift—an ornate box that seemed oddly familiar to you—Hanabi suddenly blurted out:

"So, fate has smiled upon you. Congratulations Empress Y/N." She kept that soft, meaningful smile on her face as she offered her felicitations.

Ever since her arrival was announced, something about her demeanor had bothered you. There was a subtle emptiness that seemed to linger in her gaze.

"Thank you," you responded, and that was when you noticed it. There was never any celebration for the birth of her daughter and Naoya, only a passing announcement.

And so, you added. "Congratulations on the birth of the princess too."

You could have sworn her expression fell for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head to you.

For a while, you lost sight of her in the crowd, feeling quite comfortable in your dais. Soon after, Satoru returned to your side, and the herald announced:

"Attention! His Majesty the Emperor's gift for Her Majesty the Empress!"

You looked at Satoru questioningly, and he gave you a dashing smirk before turning to the crowd.

"Thank you, all of you, for joining us to celebrate this joyous occasion." The way he carried himself and the sheer confidence he exuded was mesmerizing, you couldn't deny how it made you swoon. "I've been infamous for many things, and I'm sure the tales have spread far and wide. So please, allow me one more gesture with you as the witnesses."

The crowd giggled at his words, and you finally spotted Hanabi among them, quietly assessing the scene.

Your husband turned to you, a soft smile on his face.

"This is for you my empress— my lovely queen. Words can't describe how elated I am to know that now you bear our child." He took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "And it's only fitting that I praise you along with the skies and the stars."

A footman arrived and presented a pearly box. Satoru opened it, revealing a necklace inside. The centerpiece was a large, flawless diamond surrounded by smaller, perfectly cut stones of the same kind. No matter how you saw it, it was truly a work of art, meant to captivate and dazzle anyone who laid eyes on it.

You let out a gasp. "This..."

Satoru grinned, picking up the jewelry and preparing to place it on you. "Nothing much. Just a little trinket for you."

"This is not just a 'little trinket'!"

Your banter elicited another round of snickers from the audience as Satoru fastened the necklace around your neck. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into applause.

"Actually, my real gift is the new pagoda in the royal gardens, built in honor of the Empress," Satoru stated effortlessly, grinning unabashedly. "Feel free to stop by later, everyone."

To the ton, for him to gift you with something so sacred was the height of extravagance. Some of them wondered how you had managed to turn the elusive emperor into someone so devoted to you.

And a few... might be harboring ill will against you for it.

. . .

Later that night, you were sorting through the gifts you had received throughout the day.

"I don't understand, why would you give an expecting woman this?" Shoko picked apart a manuscript that was the gift from Archbishop Yaga. "Who would read this?"

"I wouldn't, but I'm sure Duke Geto would," you replied, and soon the two of you were giggling together.

From jewelry to ornaments, you were pleased with all the gifts presented by the guests from day one. While most were given out of formality, it was heartwarming to imagine your baby seeing all these someday.

Your attention soon turned to the box Megumi handed you earlier—Naoya's gift.

You were intrigued, because what could your spiteful ex-husband could possibly give you? And you immediately reached over to open the lid to find...

"What's that?" Shoko asked as your eyes widened in slight surprise.

Inside the box was an intricate gold and ruby necklace. One you knew well. The very one you wore during your coronation as the Empress of the Eastern Empire.

Years ago, Naoya himself had chosen this piece for you, and now he was gifting it to you, again?

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

Reliving years of your marriage with him wasn't easy. You two were childhood sweethearts, and had been happy in the beginning. You couldn't pinpoint when things began to fall apart, but suddenly Naoya turned into such a person you didn't recognize altogether.

Seeing this relic made you nostalgic, and before you realized it, you touched it, trying to get a better look—

"Ah—!"

Suddenly, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your abdomen. You instantly dropped the jewelry, letting it crash to the ground, and clutched your lower belly.

"Empress! What happened?!" Shoko rushed to your side in an instant, holding you up, and you whimpered.

"It hurts—!" Your breath hitched, as a seemingly invisible knife gutted you from inside. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. "Shoko, please—"

And before you could even scream or think, the pain blindsided you and your vision titled, before blacking out completely.

First came the warmth, then a reassuring squeeze on your hand. As your consciousness returned, you felt groggy, with your surroundings sharpening into focus.

The first thing that became your main focus the moment your eyes fluttered open was Satoru's face, a mixture of fright and relief etched across his features.

"You're awake..." He breathlessly muttered, sitting on your bedside, interlacing his fingers with yours. "How do you feel?"

"Sa...toru..." your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as soon as he heard you speak, he exhaled sharply, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Heavens, I—" he let out a long sigh, his breath hot against your neck. "I'm so glad... you are..."

"What h-happened to me...?" you were feeling feverish and a dull throb was pounding at the back of your head, before the shock of it all dawned on you. "B-baby...! Our—!"

"Baby is okay too, don't worry," Satoru assured, pulling away from you to gently touch your cheek and squeeze your hand. "Both of you are fine for now..."

The horror that you might lose your baby shook you to the very core. Your vision blurred with the threatening onset of tears.

"Wh-at happened to me, Satoru...?" you asked again as he wiped your first falling tears, your heartbeat sounding so loud in your ears. "I-I was just..."

His expression took on a sudden shift, as if a dark cloud had passed over his face.

"You came into contact with a cursed object," he stated, his eyes hard as he locked onto yours. "You were cursed, Y/N."

"What...?" You were rendered speechless, feeling your body starting to shake. Cursed object? Your past coronation necklace?

Naoya was trying to curse you?

"It's okay, I'm here now, yeah?" Satoru's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, grounding you in the present. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he repeated, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours with intensity.

“I’m here. I’m here with you. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will touch you so long as I’m here.”

But in that moment, your mind was so overwhelmed with fear for yourself and your unborn baby that you couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of the mess unfolding before you, and you just cried in his arms.

Feeling your feeble fingers fisting his robes and your inconsolable tears staining his collar, Satoru gritted his teeth.

“This won't happen again,” he whispered into your hair, feeling his rage simmering as he felt the tremors of your sobs against his chest. “I swear, I won't let anything like this happen again.”

To Satoru, that was more than enough to justify all his subsequent actions. Putting a curse on his empress essentially amounted to an act of beginning a war.

And it also meant he no longer had to operate behind the scenes.

“Keep them in Clock Tower. No contact. Only food and water at designated times.”

Satoru's icy gaze on the captain of royal guard compelled him to hastily comply with the order, before his eyes landing on the map of the entire continent.

In response to the incident that befell you, he issued orders for open hostility along the eastern and western borders. Soon after, he would formally declare his intention to go to war.

So close. He was so close to achieving his end goal.

. . .

"Satoru!"

Several days later, Suguru burst into his study, visibly outraged. He clenched his fists, looking as if he was about to throttle him altogether.

"You—" he heaved a harsh breath. "You have gone too far!"

"What are you talking about, Suguru?"

"Is cursing the entire winery village not enough for you?" This was the first time Suguru had been this furious with him. "Did you really have to massacre the neighboring district as well?!"

"They have placed a curse on my empress." It was so easy for him to say it. "Anyone who dares to harm her shall die."

"You can direct it at Zen'in Naoya! Not the innocent civilians!"

Satoru remained silent, neither shaken nor enraged, and he had finally had enough.

“Are you even sure it’s because the empress is cursed?" Suguru challenged. In his view, this farce had been going on too long.

“No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You were informed, days later.

“His Majesty has placed the prince and royal consort of the Western Empire under strict watch in Clock Tower.”

Clock Tower was essentially the prison where they kept war criminals. Learning that Satoru had confined both Megumi and Hanabi there left you aghast.

After some days of bedrest and getting better, you realized that the entire situation still didn't make sense to you. As hateful as Naoya was, harming you would do him more harm than good. Eastern and Western Empires stood evenly matched in military power, and hence, a conflict between them would bring devastation to both sides.

And moreover, you knew for sure was that Megumi was definitely not the one responsible for this. He was just a boy!

You had to let him out somehow. You had to talk to Satoru about this.

Or at least that was what you thought when you came close to his study.

“Are you even sure it's because the empress is cursed? No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You stopped on your tracks—stunned into place, to be exact.

“And you’ve struck gold when she did because her influence will provide you with greater advantage.” Suguru scoffed then, lightly shaking his head with a sneer. “Love? How laughable. All these years, you are planning your warpath, how could you claim you love her when you're trying to ravage her homeland without even considering the impact it would have on her?”

It felt like whiplash. Geto Suguru's voice had your feet rooted to the spot, causing all your doubts to resurface and sizzle in an instant. The very question you had tried to avoid, it was suddenly shoved in your face.

What... will Satoru say? Your heart thumped so loud in your ears it made you almost stagger. He couldn't possibly. He simply couldn't. All his actions... they reflected his affection for you and you believed it because you felt it yourself too.

But Satoru's next response was—

“Even when she is derided as the devil, I will bring an end to the Zen’in line in this lifetime.”

And a part of your heart withers then.

The tips of your fingers trembled, finally taking in everything that you had tried to ignore for the past few weeks. It all caught up to you in one overwhelming rush.

Suddenly, it felt as if something inside your chest was torn out and held up for you to see.

"I'm telling you, that day will come sooner than you think, Satoru." Suguru's voice broke through, his frustration palpable. His words snapped you out of your reverie, and you took a step back, retreating to the safety of your study.

The first time you felt utter hollowness wrecking you was when you had suspected that Naoya might have taken Hanabi to his bed. The feelings overwhelming you now were eerily similar to how you felt back then.

Only in this case…

You had used him first, and if he used you in return... you couldn't fault him.

But isn't it still a bitter truth, even when a mutual transaction is very well within his rights, to know that what you believe as love may apparently not really be the case?

Love... of course, he loves you.

Of that, he was certain.

But at the same time… he had his ambitions.

Destroying the Eastern Empire. Was it so wrong that he wanted it? Didn't you want this as well? After all, Naoya had spurned you for a lowly servant and made your life hell, didn’t he?

Satoru strolled through the halls and made his way to your study, where the sight of you, so pretty and regal in your seat, greeted him.

His beautiful, graceful wife and empress of his nation. For so long, he had desired you, and now here you were, perched within his walls. His heart couldn't be more full— his life is complete already.

"Sweetheart, hey... how are you feeling today?" an adoring grin was visible on his face as he approached you. "Does the baby give you trouble today?"

You didn't answer though, and didn't look at him either. It was quite strange, Satoru thought.

"What's wrong? Is there something—" And when you finally turned to him, the look in your eyes was so eerily cold it almost gave him a chill.

"Release Megumi from your dungeon," you told him with a strained tone. "And return him to his home empire."

The smile on Satoru's face vanished that instant.

"I can't do that."

You rose from your seat, facing him. "He is just a child."

Satoru regarded you with a stern look. “That child you speak about is a prince of the Eastern Empire. He has committed a great crime against you.”

“Naoya didn’t do it.” Your steely gaze was unflinching. “He might be senseless, but he isn’t insane enough to deliberately go into a war he might possibly lose.”

Satoru's eyes darkened at your words, as you stood before him with determination. The way you were so adamant somehow took him aback. “How... could you defend him? He has wronged you!”

It was one question you had expected, and you had the answer ready.

“Even if he has, I could never wish doom upon my own homeland, Satoru. I’ve lived most of my life there, I did a great deal of things there— even if you harbor some sort of misguided contempt or just bloodthirsty enough to lay ruin to Eastern Empire, I refuse to be the puppet for your schemes!”

There it was. You had said it. Everything would crumble once again just like your previous marriage.

Satoru was staring at you in slight disbelief, his eyes gleamed with something that you couldn't really pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment?

“Your life was in danger, as was our unborn child’s. Don’t you care about that—!” he actually had to stop to catch his breath. “Don’t you care that our child nearly didn't make it?”

“And? You must have thought it was the perfect grounds for declaring a war?” but you didn’t relent and questioned him with a scoff. “And afterwards, you would try to use me to gain defectors from Eastern Empire, is that it?”

You saw the flash of surprise in your now-husband's eyes right when you recited his words, but you weren't about to hold back any longer now.

“Now you’re using my safety to justify your actions,” you hissed, feeling like suddenly you understood what all of this was. “You’re quite cunning, Satoru. I’ve heard everything—you will do anything to bring an end to the Zen'in lineage! You won’t even consider the repercussions of my reputation being tarnished across the lands!”

“Is that even important now?” Satoru gritted his teeth to suppress his irritation. “You have been cursed. Do you honestly think I would let them get away with cursing my empress? How could I, who seek to protect you, be more vicious than whoever in Eastern Empire who cursed you with that necklace?”

“You’re doing this for your personal gratification!” you exclaimed. “It is never about me. You’re just a warmonger!”

The moment those words left your lips, Satoru stilled. His gaze on you faltered, and you could’ve sworn hurt flashed in his face.

“Just how low… is your opinion of me?” he asked, his tone dropping, eyes devoid of emotion. “You jump into conclusions only after overhearing something in a passing and yet you know for sure Naoya wouldn’t harm you—” he clenched his jaw.

“You… really loved him, didn’t you?” he asked with a sardonic smile. “I know it already. You won’t ever be able to do the same for me. You can’t even trust me.”

You were rendered speechless. Despite your doubts of him, hearing this still felt like a slap in your face.

Won’t be able to do the same for him? No. That’s not true. You are—

Satoru let out a defeated laugh and ran his hand through his hair, leaving you uncertain whether he was amused or heartbroken by your lack of response.

“It’s funny, how I have loved you for so long... but apparently the woman I believed to have even a semblance of affection for me doesn’t even exist.”

It felt like that one part of you that was capable of feeling love had been stabbed once again.

To say this out loud hurt you deeply, unbeknownst to him. You didn’t mean this at all, still it was what came out of you, out of spite—

“In the end, we’re just using each other. That’s all we amount to.”

Satoru bitterly snorted, finding your accusation so unfair to him.

“How cruel is it that I’m the only one who has to prove this love to you? What about you? You’re terribly, horribly selfish!”

You stayed silent, looking away, caught between the scorching knives that seemed to twist your heart and conflicting emotions in it, uncertain of what to believe anymore. And you didn't really know what heartbreak was like before—

“It has been really exhausting, and I don’t want to bother anymore.”

When his gaze next met yours, dark and piercing, you realized he was no longer the same man who once promised you love and devotion.

“You're free to believe whatever truth you wish. But remember, even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions… I won’t hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress.”

You have committed treason.

Satoru had conducted investigation of the sorts just to prove his point. And yet days later, no direct evidence pointing towards Megumi or Hanabi were found in that cursed necklace.

Punishment for treason is imminent death. You were well-aware of that more than anyone, but your consciousness wouldn't allow it if Megumi had to be hanged due to Satoru's antagonism.

"Your Majesty, your kindness knows no bounds," Megumi said, dropping to one knee before you and lowering his head in the throne room. Satoru had chosen not to grace any of you with his presence, leaving you alone to bid farewell to both Megumi and Hanabi.

Since then, you hadn't spoken with him, nor had he visited your chambers. It was as if he considered you nonexistent at all.

And it is really only a matter of time before he finds out.

But at the very least, you were right. It was never Megumi. That boy was fond of you, he could never. So, you shifted your gaze on the woman next to him.

"Royal Consort Hanabi. A word."

It was the cue for everyone else to exit the throne room. Now, you were faced with this woman once again, and yet one thing remained the same— you were still towering over her.

"Why did you do it?" Your calm gaze betrayed a quiet anger that was unmistakably clear. All because of this woman. It was beyond you, how despite having left your past life behind, she had somehow managed to taint your new one as well.

Hanabi looked away, a hint of shame coloring her features. "Your Majesty knows, so why do you spare me?" she asked quietly.

"How preposterous of you to think that I have spared you," you scoffed. "All this time, have you learned nothing at all from standing by Naoya's side?"

She flinched, visibly making herself smaller at your unforgiving tone, still, she dared herself to meet your eyes.

"Can I ask... why you never consider it as Emperor Naoya's doing?" she seemed more confused more than anything, even as her lips wobbled. "The two of you... you don't really hate each other, so why...?"

You didn't want to dwell on why Naoya had chosen that specific piece of jewelry to return to you. If anything, you'd consider it his final parting gift and be done with it.

But the naivety of this woman was astounding. Someone like her wouldn't last long in your seat. You let out a sigh, torn between feeling sorry for her or not.

"You have much to learn about court affairs, Hanabi. And do not think this is an act of mercy. Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

Hanabi trembled where she stood, her breaths were shallow, and her hands shook slightly as she struggled to maintain composure in your presence.

Realizing it was futile to continue the conversation, you decided to conclude it.

"Know that I will never forgive you for what you have done to me." Your sharp eyes squared on her, the cold ire in your tone making her shudder.

In all the years Hanabi had known you, you had never appeared more fearsome than you did now, adorned in silks of deep blue hues, with that crown of diamonds gleaming in your head.

Then, as if sealing her fate, you delivered these parting words:

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

The palace felt suffocating for you. After sending Hanabi away, you took a walk in the gardens, followed closely by your ladies-in-waiting.

Good heavens, what have you done? You definitely didn't regret saving Megumi, but no matter how, you had committed a great crime against your own empire. A sentence would loom over your head!

And what about your baby? Would Satoru execute you while you still had his child inside you?

The very thought made your vision tilt, and you had to lean on the wall for support. Your ladies-in-waiting were immediately clamoring against each other.

"Leave," you commanded, trying to catch your breath while doing so. "I'll… take some time to rest here."

It took you a moment to realize you had reached the pagoda that Satoru had commissioned for you. This was your first time visiting it. The structure was magnificent, towering in height and adorned with exquisite decorations, leaving you in awe.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby."

You wanted to cry. His voice, soft and smooth, conveyed those words so easily to you. He really loved you, didn't he? What made you so unsure about that undeniable fact?

And now you had broken his heart.

Your hand reached for your belly. Though hidden by your dress, you could distinctly feel that it had become firmer these days, holding the product of your love with Satoru.

"I'm sorry, baby..." you whispered, heartbroken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this too..."

You felt nauseous, your breaths come in short pants, and you felt a headache coming. It didn't really register to you that you had crashed into the candle table, before you collected yourself and ventured deeper inside.

You just wanted a sense of peace and quiet. You would think more later, and right now, the darkness inside felt like a comforting lull for you to rest.

. . .

Or at least that was what you had intended, until you looked back and saw the swirling inferno creeping through the halls.

It didn't take long for Satoru to figure out you had really orchestrated Megumi's release.

More than his wounded pride, it was the searing pain of realizing that you truly believed he was only using you for his own benefit. It felt like an insult to everything he had done for you.

Why couldn't you see that? Just how hard is it for you to understand?

And now that it had come to this... what did you expect from him? Should he really make good on his word and punish you? It tore his heart to even consider it.

However, what was worse was… did you think he was really capable of that too?

Amidst his heartache, suddenly he heard loud commotion from outside his study, yells and cries of help— and it roused him from his thoughts that he came out of his study, only to come right into a familiar face.

"Anyone! Anyone at all!" one of your maids was running, sobbing and hysterical. "Her Majesty! Please help Her Majesty!"

"What is all of this ruckus?" Satoru demanded, catching the maid by the hand, as she stuttered in tears.

And then, everything came crashing down with the next words.

"The Empress— is trapped inside the burning tower!"

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gghostwriter · 3 months ago

Note

Something where the reader is like sunshine, but gets cornered by an unsub and takes them down nosweat, the reader used to play ice hockey so they brawl like hell?

And at a dinner Rossi hosts, the reader offers to help cook but Morgan keeps poking the bear, teasing reader about their crush in spencer so reader asks if she can take this outside and Rossi is like "be my guest, knock him down a peg" and reader almost immediately pins Morgan and gets him to tap out

"Motherfucker I played ice hockey, I'll always win" Penelope is just gushing over reader and reader gives a wink to Spence before heading back to the kitchen to help plate up dinner

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Friends who Flirt (?); A bit heavier than my usual fluff but still fluff, I guess Warning: CM violence, vague descriptions of fight scenes A/N: Anon, going to be honest, I had a hard time writing this. I don’t have much knowledge on ice hockey or any sport in general so I tried my best to google moves from hockey and defense that I can incorporate here. Also I know you mentioned Reader to be a sunshine type but I kinda tweaked it so the Reader can be sweet and snarky both at the same time. No further editing was done, hope that’s alright and I hope you still enjoy this! Main masterlist

Ice Princess. // Spencer Reid

You’d like to think you were hired to join the highly sought after, golden child of the FBI—The BAU—due to your well rounded resume and skill set. But a year into being part of the team, you were starting to get the feeling you were hand selected to match Dr. Spencer Reid’s intellect and observation skills. In most cases, the two of you were always teamed up, working on geographical profiles, visiting the autopsy labs, and setting base in the police stations. All were an integral part of the job, you understood plus you’ve built an incredible rapport (crush) on the 187 IQ genius, but sometimes you miss the adrenaline and physical leg work that goes through catching an unsub. How is it that Morgan gets to kick down as many doors as he wants and you can’t?

“Princess, is that what i think it is?” Morgan asked, spotting you enter the bullpen with a large pink Tupperware on hand. “It is isn’t it?”

“Uh huh, but they’re not all for you!” You reached inside to grab two pre-packaged home made cookies and tossed them in his direction.

He looked at the two pieces he had on hand and back to the Tupperware. “That looks like it holds more than twenty pieces. So how is it I only get two?”

You giggled. “Congratulations SSA Derek Morgan, you know how to estimate.”

“Ha ha very funny, Ice Princess,” he stood to take a peek over your shoulder. “But I was right, what gives Y/N?”

A cup of steaming coffee was placed on your desk, courtesy of Spencer. “Hey Y/N. How was your weekend?”

You blushed. “It was great! I spent my time at the ice skating rink and baking. Look, cookies!”

“I see how it is,” Morgan teased, watching the two youngest members blush and flirt with each other. “Does pretty boy over here get more than two pieces?”

“Yes, he does. He gets four to be exact since he’s really nice—”

Morgan averted his eyes and fake coughed ‘crush’ causing you to blush even more than you thought possible.

“—and Hotch gets four, too.”

“Wait wait,” he held up his hands. “Reid, I get. But Hotch?”

You shrugged. “He is our boss, after all.”

“I can smell the lie from a mile away, Princess. What is it really?” He paused, making eye contact with Spencer before turning back to you.

“Bribery,” they both stated.

You stomped your boot clad foot on the ground, in defense. “No it’s not!”

He laughed. “Face it, Y/N. The big man will never put you in the line of fire, not if he could help it. Don’t you think so, Reid?”

“He does have a point. The percentage of you being partnered up with Morgan in the past cases was at a measly 3% and you were only partnered up with him because Hotch was also there to cover your back—” the glare you were giving him was enough for him to backtrack. “—Not that you can’t take care of yourself—that’s not what I’m saying, you’re a great agent, you have the skills—” each word intensifying your gaze. “I’ll stop now.” He squeaked out.

Morgan patted his back. “What he meant to say was, Hotch has a soft spot for you and your lean, glitter wearing build. Which reminds me, when will we ever see videos of you twirling and jumping on ice, Princess?”

You laughed, his assumption of you being an ice skating princess never failed to make you chuckle. If only he knew the truth. “Never, Morgan. Never.”

———

In the grand scheme of things, maybe the universe had heard your grumbles and finally decided to throw you a bone. It happened during the latest case in Florida, a narcissistic male unsub was loose on the streets attacking and kidnapping women that all shared the same physical traits as you. This information was pointed out when the team had found the third victim’s body—mangled and throat deeply slashed that her head was almost severed. They all shared similarities with you—slight build and delicate features. So it came as a no surprise when the unsub set his eyes on you as the next victim.

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” he whispered to your ears, having been caught in a bear hug attack. “I bet I could snap you in half, like a toothpick. I’ll enjoy breaking you.”

Bending forward, you twisted your upper body to elbow his face, and breaking free. “Try me.”

You cursed your luck, having left behind your holster in the hotel room. You were just stepping out to grab a case file left behind in the SUV when the unsub cornered you and made his move.

The smirk on your face seemed to enrage him, enough for him to come charging at you like a bull. You kept your mind cool, feinting to the left—a body fake move from hockey before throwing a heel palm strike straight to his nose, causing it to break and bleed. The unsub howls in pain and while he was pre-occupied, you quickly twist his arm throwing him to the ground.

By the time the remaining members of the team came to your rescue, you were sitting on the unconscious unsub with your hair mused and a saccharine smile on your face. Morgan says nothing, eyebrows raised, as he all but drags the unsub to the nearest police car.

It was during one of the dinner parties hosted by Rossi where the dark skinned, muscular agent goaded you into showing him your moves.

“C’mon Princess, you can flirt with Lover Boy here later,” He slyly said, noting how close you were standing to Reid who was busy steering the pasta sauce. “I got to know how you took down that unsub.”

You laughed. “Spence, do you hear someone whining? Sounds like a yapping Chihuahua.”

Spence laughed having spied the indignation on Morgan’s face. “You’re right, Y/N. I didn’t know Rossi got a new family member.”

“Oh hell, I’m no Chihuahua. Do you see these muscles—” He flexed his arms. “I’m more German Shepherd than anything. All the flirting with genius over here has clouded your eyesight, better get that checked out.”

You scoffed before turning to Rossi for permission who chuckled at the irritation on your usual angelic face. “Be my guest Bambina, knock him down a peg for me but please, do it outside, I’d rather not get blood on my authentic Persian rug.”

Morgan whooped with glee as he all but ran out to the backyard with you right behind him. He rolled his neck and waved you close. “Hit me with your best shot, Ice Skating Princess.”

You smiled, not wanting to correct his favorite nickname of you. Before he could utter another word, you ran straight to him, exerting force on your legs and bracing your arms for impact. The tackle making him lose footing which was what you were aiming for then you proceeded to hook your leg behind his, causing him to tumble down and before he even hit the grass, you twisted making him fall chest first and his hands pinned behind him.

“What the—” Morgan struggled to get up. “Alright, alright. You win.”

You laughed, helping him stand, as the team members all cheered behind you.

“Did they teach you that in skating school or something?”

“Morgan, I played ice hockey, not ice skating and—” you smirked as his mouth dropped open. “—I always win, motherfucker.”

“Bambina, language.” Rossi, the mother hen of the group, chided.

You laughed, sending Spencer a wink before skipping to where he was, awestruck and blushing beet red from Penelope’s teasing.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #gw fics #pau’s request inbox #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

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halfmoonaria · 3 months ago

Text

when she lied

pairing: g!p sam carpenter & female reader

summary: your relationship with sam takes a turn when it’s supposed to be perfect.

word count: 4.5k

author’s note: based on the scene from the last kiss. my posts are flopping so bad its ridicilous, so if this does i wont be surprised.

Dating a professor was never in your plans growing up, let alone one tangled in rumors of being a serial killer.

But despite the unsettling rumors about Sam, you found yourself getting pulled in; as if she was a magnetic force.

You first met Sam at a local bookshop's author event, a quaint spot filled with the scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee.

The moment she walked in, you immediately thought she was the most breathtaking woman you'd ever seen. Her presence commanded the room, and you couldn't take your eyes off her.

It was no different for Sam. She thought you were straight-up gorgeous from the moment she saw you.

However, with her troubled past and a promise to only trust Tara and the twins, it was hard to break through her defenses. But your persistence and genuine care slowly chipped away at her walls.

You showed her kindness and understanding, proving that love and trust were still possible.

Over time, she began to let you in, sharing parts of herself that she had kept hidden for so long. Your patience and love helped her believe in a future where she could trust someone new.

Sam allowed you to take her out on dates, cautiously at first. You spent evenings at cozy restaurants, weekends exploring the city, and quiet nights at home, gradually building a bond that felt unbreakable. Each date brought you closer, and before long, you couldn't imagine life without each other.

It wasn't until Sam had built a solid trust in you that she felt comfortable introducing you to Tara. She was an important person in Sam's life, and she wanted to be sure you were someone who could truly be part of their family.

Tara was skeptical, her protective nature making it difficult for her to warm up to you.

However, as she observed your genuine care for Sam and saw how well you fit into their lives, her perspective softened. Tara eventually grew to appreciate you and welcomed you into the family with open arms.

Eventually, you both had decided on taking the next step and move in together. It was a big decision, but it felt right. You found a charming apartment that was perfect for starting your life together.

During this time, Sam transitioned from being a high school teacher to a college professor. She was passionate about her work and excelled in her new role, gaining respect from colleagues and students alike.

Her career move not only marked a professional milestone but also brought a sense of stability and accomplishment to your shared life.

In your own professional life, you worked as a child psychologist, helping kids navigate their emotions and overcome challenges.

And even though both of your busy occupations demanded a lot of your time, you both cherished the moments you could steal away together, whether it was meeting up after work or spending hours of love making past midnight; not caring if you had work the next day.

And you always made an effort to prioritize each other. Often, Sam would come to meet you after work, witnessing your interactions with the children.

She admired the ease with which you connected with them, the patience you showed, and the gentle way you guided them through their struggles. Seeing you in your element, she felt herself being moved by your compassion and dedication.

It was in these moments that she became even more eager to start a family with you, convinced that together, with your nurturing nature, you could offer a child a truly loving and supportive environment.

She never said or mentioned it to you, afraid you'd find it too soon and leave her because of her sounding too pushy or desperate.

However, when you showed Sam a positive pregnancy test, beaming with joy and excitement. She failed to keep the thoughts inside her.

She couldn't wait to have kids with you. It was all she ever wanted, it was going to make everything even more perfect.

It was all perfect.

You had everything. Everything you could've asked for.

A wonderful girlfriend, a job you enjoyed and cherished, and now; a growing life inside of you.

You were going to be a mother, alongside the love of your life.

In your mind you had it all. And Sam had not yet to disagree.

Until you started to question everything you have.

Cracks began to appear as reality set in. With your pregnancy, you knew that your stomach would soon begin to grow, and you would have to make significant changes.

As your pregnancy progressed, you faced the undeniable truth that you would need to quit working soon. The physical demands of carrying a child meant that your ability to balance work and personal life was diminishing.

More troubling was the fact that the time you once spent with Sam seemed to evaporate.

She had begun to claim she was "working late" or "staying at the office," but these excuses were becoming increasingly frequent.

You started to notice that instead of spending evenings together, Sam was often absent, and it became clear she was spending her time elsewhere.

You had never had second thoughts or hesitation about you and Sam, but as the dinners alone and nights that was spent waiting for her to come home increased, you were starting to.

The life you had envisioned seemed to be disintegrating, replaced by an unsettling uncertainty about your future together.

It was a damp and dreary Thursday, the kind that soaked through your shoes and lingered in your bones.

The clock was nearing midnight, and Sam had yet to come home.

You sat alone in the couch of the living room, remnants of a cold dinner in the kitchen waiting for her just as much as you were.

The clock ticked louder with each passing minute, amplifying your growing concern as Sam continued to miss your text messages and calls. Your anxiety was palpable.

Finally, the front door finally creaked open, and Sam walked in, her face looking weary and her clothes slightly disheveled. You rose from the couch, feeling the weight of your pregnancy more acutely with each movement. Though your belly was still modest, the curve was noticeable.

You walked over to her, standing firmly in front of her, trying to meet her gaze. "Where have you been?" you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady and calm.

Sam seemed momentarily taken aback before she quickly tried to mask her discomfort. "I was at work," she said, though her eyes avoided yours.

You shook your head, hurt seeping into your tone. "You weren't at work until eleven o'clock at night." Taking a deep breath, you added, "Please, don't lie to me."

Sam's shoulders slumped, and her gaze fell to the floor. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken truths, and you could sense the growing distance between you. The warmth and closeness you once shared seemed to be slipping away, replaced by a cold uncertainty that left you questioning everything you had believed to be true.

You watched her closely, noticing the disheveled state of her clothes—her shirt slightly untucked, her hair a mess. Something about her appearance didn't sit right with you. The scent of an unfamiliar perfume lingered faintly in the air, a detail that only heightened your unease.

"Who were you with?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and suspicion. The late hours, the unanswered messages, and now this—everything pointed to something being terribly wrong.

"I was at work," Sam insisted, avoiding your gaze. "There was no one else. I was the only one who had work and essays left to correct."

You stepped closer, your heart pounding, your voice trembling. "Who were you with, Sam?" Tears threatened to spill over as you thought about all the nights she'd been late recently, all the missed dinners, and the growing distance between you.

You needed to hear her say it, to confirm the gnawing doubt that had been eating at you.

Her eyes flickered with panic, her facade starting to crack. The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension thick and suffocating.

She looked down, unable to meet your eyes.

"This girl I met it was nothing," she blurted out, her words rushed and desperate.

Your heart sank, the weight of her betrayal crashing over you. And without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped her across the face.

The slap wasn't hard, it didn't physically hurt her. She just felt the contact, her reaction one of pure shock. Her eyes widened more stunned by the act than the impact.

You were shaking so badly that the force behind the slap was minimal, driven more by your emotional turmoil than any physical strength.

Sam's expression shifted from shock to a mixture of guilt and sorrow, her shoulders slumping. She knew she deserved it.

Trying to calm yourself down, you took a deep breath, but your voice still quivered with anger. "Did you fuck her?"

You didn't care about the specifics—who the girl was or how Sam had met her. "Tell me, did you cheat on me?"

Sam's face was a mask of regret, her eyes pleading for understanding that you couldn't give. She took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but there was nothing that could make this right.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The silence stretched between you, heavy and oppressive.

Her shoulders slumped further, her body language betraying the truth before she even spoke. She took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but there was nothing that could make this right.

She nodded slowly, whispering, "Yes."

The single word struck you like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of your lungs. It was as if the ground had been pulled out from under you, and you were falling into a bottomless pit of despair. The room blurred as your eyes filled with tears.

A searing pain tore through your chest, unlike anything you had ever felt before. It wasn't just the pain of betrayal; it was the shattering of dreams, the destruction of trust, and the end of the future you had envisioned together. Your heart, which had once beat with love and joy, now felt like it was being ripped apart.

You turned around, walking away, your hands in your hair as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions. "Oh god, you make me sick," you almost screamed, the pain and anger tearing through your voice. The tears flowed freely now, blurring your vision as you tried to make sense of the reality that had been thrust upon you.

Sam's eyes followed your every movement, filled with regret but devoid of tears.

She had felt a gnawing disgust with herself both before and after sleeping with her. The guilt had been a constant companion, whispering in the back of her mind and tarnishing her thoughts.

But seeing the raw pain and heartbreak in your eyes now, the depth of your betrayal laid bare, was a torment far beyond anything she had imagined.

The reality of what she had done, the gravity of her actions, hit her with an overwhelming force. Her own self-loathing was nothing compared to the devastation she had caused you, and the weight of that realization made her feel truly sick to her core.

Yet she seemed unable to cry, as if knowing her tears would do nothing to soothe the hurt she had caused.

The tears continued to fall, each one a silent cry of your broken heart. You had given Sam everything, your love, your trust, your future; and she had thrown it all away. The realization was almost too much to bear, the pain so intense that it felt like you were being torn apart from the inside.

As you moved through the house, Sam followed, a sense of desperation in her steps. She knew she had to say something, anything, to try and fix the situation.

"Wait, please," Sam pleaded, her voice breaking. She reached out but didn't touch you, afraid her touch would only make things worse.

You walked into the living room, your mind racing, needing space to think, to breathe. Sam's presence was suffocating.

You began to pace, your movements erratic, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Sam stood a few feet away, wringing her hands. "It was one time," she began, her voice trembling. "And it meant absolutely nothing."

You stopped pacing but didn't turn to face her, your eyes filled with hurt and disbelief. The reality of her words only made the pain sharper, cutting deeper.

"It was a stupid thing, baby" she continued, her tone pleading for understanding. "Just a stupid thing." She repeated shortly after.

"I'm so sorry." Sam tried.

Her attempt at an apology only left a more bitter taste in your mouth.

How can she apologize when she had been keeping this hidden from you for weeks, months even?

Just then, Sam's phone buzzed, the sound cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. You glanced at the phone in her hand, a sudden, cold suspicion gripping you.

Without thinking, you reached out and snatched the phone from her. Sam's eyes widened in shock, but she didn't stop you. She knew she couldn't.

You looked at the screen, and there it was; a name you didn't recognize, but the message was clear: "Had a great time tonight. Can't wait to see you again." You read the message aloud, your voice dripping with disgust.

Sam's face crumpled, the regret etched deeply in her features. She stood there, the weight of her actions crashing down on her, unable to do anything but watch as the person she loved crumbled before her eyes.

Your heart sank, the final piece of evidence falling into place. You turned the phone towards her, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "Who is she?"

Sam's face paled, her eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and fear. "Her name is Lily," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Lily." You repeated.

"How old is she?" you demanded, your voice barely holding back the fury and disgust. The interest of who was worth ruining your whole future together growing.

Sam hesitated, avoiding your gaze. "Is she your colleague? Boss? Student? You've always liked them younger."

"Stop," Sam pleaded, her voice barely audible.

"How old is she, Sam?" you pushed, your desperation breaking through.

"Nineteen," Sam blurted out. "She's nineteen, alright?" The moment the words left her mouth, she seemed to regret it, her shoulders slumping further under the weight of her confession.

You felt a wave of nausea wash over you, threatening to make you sick. "She's nineteen, Sam? You slept with a fucking nineteen-year-old?" you screamed, the reality of her betrayal hitting you with full force.

She didn't answer, her silence only deepening the wound. She stood there, her eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and self-loathing, knowing that nothing she could say would make this right.

Sam had always been the most confident and strongest woman you had ever known. She had faced down her own demons and the judgment of the world, standing tall when people whispered about her being the daughter of a serial killer.

She had protected Tara fiercely, fought off threats both physical and emotional, and had always seemed unbreakable.

You remembered the times she had confronted dangers head-on, her bravery almost intimidating. The way she took charge during crises, her unwavering resolve, and the sheer force of her willpower. Sam had always been a rock, someone who never showed fear or doubt.

But now, as she stood before you, she looked scared. Her eyes, usually so steely and determined, were now wide and pleading. She seemed small, fragile, a stark contrast to the woman who had faced down killers and public scorn without flinching.

As you looked at her, you saw something you had never seen before—pity. Pity for herself, and maybe for you too. Her gaze was filled with it, and it made your heart ache even more. Sam had never felt pity for anyone before, not in the way you had seen.

She had always been the strong one, the protector. But now, she looked at you with eyes that seemed to say she was sorry for everything, for every ounce of pain she had caused.

Although her puppy eyes and guilty stare didn't help. In fact, it made you even more furious. And the rage was starting to boil over.

Your head felt like it was pounding, and you felt sick of the thought that Sam had let somebody else touch her. And you wanted to know why.

"What's so wrong with me then?" you technically shouted, your voice breaking. "Am I too old for you now?"

Sam flinched at your tone of voice, her eyes filling with tears, threatening to fall when she shook her head as soon as the question left your lips.

"No, it's not like that" she whispered.

"Does she have a better body?" You continued, voice breaking.

"No, Y/n please, it's not about that." Sam pleaded, but you were relentless.

"Did I not fuck you good enough?" you demanded, the hurt and anger making your voice tremble. "Is that it?"

Sam's face crumbled, and she shook her head desperately. "It wasn't about you. It was never about you"

"Then what is it, Samantha? What's so fucking special about her? Is she prettier than me?"

"No!" she replied as soon as the words left your lips, the answer immediate and forceful. Sam's eyes locked onto yours, filled with a raw honesty.

Your looks had always captivated Sam, from the way your eyes sparkled with emotion to the way your hair framed your face perfectly. She loved the way your smile could brighten a room, the way your presence brought her comfort.

You were everything she had ever dreamed of having in a partner when she was little, and she hoped you knew that.

She used to tell you all the time, to remind you how much you meant to her. But she had stopped when Lily started showing interest.

She wished more than anything that you could see yourself through her eyes, to understand the depth of her admiration and love for you. But now, as she stood there, seeing the heartbreak in your eyes, she realized she had ruined everything. Her betrayal had shattered the trust and love you had built together, and she feared she had lost any chance of you ever believing in her again.

"Liar!" you screamed, the fury in your voice reverberating through the room.

You knew something had pulled her to Sam, some inexplicable attraction that drew them together, but it only made the betrayal sting more. The knowledge that she had chosen someone else, even for a fleeting moment, was unbearable.

You pushed Sam, your hands hitting her shoulders with desperate force. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and regret. Her back hit the lamp on the drawer, the shade tilting precariously before falling to the side.

"What am I supposed to do now?" you demanded, pushing her again. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" Each shove punctuated your words, your voice breaking with anguish. "You've ruined everything!"

Sam flinched with each push, her hands raised slightly as if to steady herself, but she didn't try to stop you. She knew she deserved every bit of your anger, every word of your pain. Her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed, her heart aching at the sight of your devastation.

"Will you listen to me, Y/n? It meant absolutely nothing!" Sam pleaded, her voice breaking as she tried to reach out to you.

You stopped pushing her, your hands trembling with a mix of rage and sorrow. The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of her words and the betrayal pressing down on you.

"Nothing?" you echoed, your voice filled with disbelief. "You slept with her. You were out with another woman all night. I'm pregnant, is that fucking nothing to you?"

"Yes! I mean, no," Sam stammered, her voice cracking under the pressure.

"How many times did you fuck her?" you demanded, your voice icy and resolute. "And don't you dare lie to me."

Sam's face went pale, her eyes pleading as if begging you to retract the question. She hesitated, her gaze flickering between you and the floor, clearly struggling with the weight of her confession. Each second felt like an eternity as she fought to keep her composure.

You remained silent, staring at her with a mixture of anger and heartbreak, your eyes unyielding. The room seemed to grow colder with the intensity of the moment, the air thick with tension.

Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, Sam looked up at you, her voice barely a whisper. "Three times," she said, her tone cracking with guilt.

You turned away, unable to bear the weight of her confession. Your heart felt like it was being crushed under a mountain of stress, shock, and disgust. "I think I'm going to throw up," you said, your voice barely a whisper as you walked toward the kitchen.

You needed to get away from Sam, to escape the suffocating reality of her betrayal. The sight of her was too much, her presence a painful reminder of the lies and broken trust.

But of course, she followed you, her footsteps echoing in the silence that hung heavy between you.

"But it didn't mean anything, baby," she rambled, her voice trembling with desperation.

"She made me realize I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that now." Her words tumbled out, as if saying them repeatedly would somehow make everything right.

You stopped just short of the kitchen entrance, turning to face her with a look of fierce anger and hurt.

"I'm five months pregnant, and you're already out trying to fuck other women!" you screamed, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions.

The words hung in the air.

Sam stood there in silence, the weight of her actions pressing down on her like a ton of bricks. She knew there was no justification, no excuse that could make this right.

The realization of what she had done washed over her, leaving her feeling hollow and regretful. She had always prided herself on being strong and confident, but now, faced with the consequences of her betrayal, she felt weak and powerless.

The sight of you, the person she loved and admired most, looking at her with such hurt and anger, made her stomach churn. She wanted to speak, to beg for your forgiveness, but the words caught in her throat, tangled in her guilt.

You stared at her, waiting for something—anything—that could make this less painful. But her silence only deepened the wound. "Fuck you, Sam. It's over."

You turned away from her, walking into the kitchen with a sense of finality. Sam followed, her voice trembling as she called your name. "Y/n..." she started, her tone almost pleading as if she couldn't believe this was happening. You walked further, needing to put distance between you and her.

"Get out right now," you commanded, turning around to face her, your voice filled with a quiet threat. "I'll tell you when you can come and get your shit. Maybe Lily can help you pack." You spat the girl's name like a curse, the mere sound of it making your skin crawl.

Your head was pounding, the pain intense and unrelenting, threatening to explode. The pressure of trying to hold back sobs was almost unbearable, and the anger in your voice was the only thing keeping you from breaking down completely. You stood there, trembling, every muscle in your body taut with the effort of keeping it together.

Sam took a hesitant step forward, her voice trembling but attempting to remain calm. "Y/n, we're having a baby together," she reasoned, her tone a poor mask for the panic bubbling beneath the surface.

She knew deep down that her words wouldn't reach you, that her calm facade was crumbling. Her mind was spiraling, grasping at any hope to salvage what was left.

You turned around sharply, your eyes blazing with anger. "No," you snapped, your voice cutting through the air like a knife. "I'm the one having this baby. I'm the pregnant one. Not you."

Sam opened her mouth to say something, but you cut her off, your voice rising with each word.

"Get the fuck out, Sam, or I swear I'll call the police," you threatened, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation. Sam's eyes widened with shock, and she took a step back, realizing the gravity of your words.

You didn't know what you would say to the police, or if you'd even call them to begin with, but you saw how she looked at you as if you were ready to do whatever it took to get her out of there, so she believed you would actually do it.

"Y/n, please..." she started, but the look in your eyes silenced her.

"Leave," you commanded, your voice steadier now, but no less fierce. "I can't stand the sight of you right now."

But when Sam didn't move, you realized you no longer had the strength to scream at her.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You needed her to understand, to listen to you just one last time. "Will you just get out, please?" you said, your tone softer now, almost pleading.

The exhaustion was overwhelming, making your limbs feel heavy and your vision blur at the edges.

You felt like you might faint from the sheer emotional toll of the confrontation. Sam hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness, but finding none.

With a resigned nod, she turned and walked out, leaving you standing there, the silence of the room pressing in on you, suffocating.

Your thoughts swirled in a chaotic mix of anger, sadness, and disbelief. The betrayal felt like a raw, open wound, each memory of Sam's deceit a fresh stab to your heart.

The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in as if to suffocate the last remnants of your strength. You reached out for something to hold onto, trying to anchor yourself in a reality that felt increasingly surreal.

The silence now felt deafening, a stark contrast to the heated exchange that had just occurred. It was a silence that spoke of a fractured future, of dreams and trust irrevocably shattered.

When you two first met, Sam was the one who struggled to trust strangers or new people.

Now, you were the one left with the painful understanding that even those you've loved for years could betray you.

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #melissa barrera x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #ask #jenna ortega x reader #mabel x reader #tara carpenter x reader

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urfavlarry · 8 months ago

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Can I request a Tyler ( or Aiden but please Tyler) x reader fic? Reader has lived in the phantom realm for almost her entire life and because of that she is always sleepy and hungry since she doesn't get transported back like the others. But she is a great fighter. Fem or gn reader please and could you please write a scenario too? Thanks you and a you can ignore this if you like ❤

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, reader has some form of insomnia(??) gender neutral reader

A/N: I tried to make sure that this is gender neutral but if I made any mistakes then please correct me! Also I’m new to the fandom so if I got anything incorrect then again, don’t be afraid to correct me.

I hope I wrote everything the way you wanted and that you will request again some time<3

Tyler & Aiden (seperate) x gn!reader

——————————————

You’ve been stuck in this place for a while, ever since you were about 13. One day you were playing outisde in the yard, when you saw this strange creature. You being a naive child went towards it and tried talking to it. You weren’t really the type of child to be scared of everything and you thought it was just your imagination. When you when to confront it, you collapsed. After that you woke up in this strange place, an exact copy of the real world yet the sky was red and strange creatures started to appear everywhere. Your big brother would get into fights often, so he taught you some self defense so you managed to survive, quickly seeking shelter. At your age many kids would panic and probably wouldn’t survive, but you pulled through. Ever since then you kinda were afraid to sleep, scared that the creatures would somehow manage to get to you and hurt you. Same with food, you rarely went out to get food, only living off what people left in their houses, well at least the houses that weren’t infested with phantoms.

You and your parents would go out into the wilderness often, so you had necessary survival skills and had enough supplies for the first few weeks of being there. You learned to survive the phantom attacks and you have a pretty well built shelter. In the present time you met a group of people your age. You almost collapsed from how happy you were to finally have human interaction after so many dreadful years of being in this horrific place. They accepted you into the group, some being a bit skeptical at first but changed their mind once you told them your story.

You were a more skilled person in the group, taking the role as leader with a girl named Ashlyn. You moved your things from your shelter that wasn’t that far from the “graveyard” as they liked to call it. After a few hours you were done taking your things there and saw they weren’t there anymore. Your eyes widen and you start to panic; “Did they leave me?” “Was I just imagining it?” “Did they get hurt by the phantoms?” You run into one of the buses and see a note on one of the seats. It explained that they have a different experience in this realm. They go to this realm at midnight for 7 hours, then wake up in the human realm. You couldn’t help but envy them but you were glad nothing happened to them and that you weren’t imagining it.

——————————————

Tyler Hernández

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

To say that Tyler would literally turn into your second mother that would be an understatement.

He would constantly bring you food when he could and when he was in the living world he would make you some food before he went to school so you don’t starve while they are away. (things that are moved to a certian place in the living world appear in the “phantom realm”

You two would definitely start dating after some time but you would be the one making the first move lol

He would have some trust issues but once he warms up to you he’s cool

Taylor would definitely be happy that her twin brother is finally happy with someone (even if he can’t see them whenever he wants)

He would cuddle you in the bus and protect you with his life fr

He would be super caring and would scold you if you wouldn’t eat for a long period of time, the same with sleeping.

When you eat and get a normal amount of sleep you have a LOT of energy. Like it’s as if you drank 10 cups of coffee in on go!

definitely praises you!!

He would be jealous if you taught anyone other than him so give him some love right after!!

Admires you for sure like he’s looking at you with heart eyes and is the most love sick guy you will ever meet lmao even if he doesn’t look like it

Overall I believe he isn’t the MOST caring in the group but definitely one of the most caring :3

Everyone quickly started noticing your sluggish movements and the constant rumbling of your stomach. You always had dark eye bags under your eyes and you were exhausted all of the time. Tyler was the first one to notice and comment on it. You tried saying you were fine but he just didn’t buy it. “Come on I can tell you’re exhausted and clearly hungry, come we should have at least an apple for you to eat.” He says and drags you to the bus where they would keep these types of necessities. He mumbled some swears you couldn’t quite understand since it was in Spanish. He handed you the apple and rolled his eyes, acting like he doesn’t care. “After you eat that go and rest, I don’t want you to collapse tomorrow..” He says, looking away from you and sits down on one of the seats in the bus.

You nod and raise a brow at his strange behavior. He never really acted kind or caring towards anyone except his sister, but you didn’t mind the special treatment. You lay down on the seat, curling into a ball and close your eyes, falling asleep in almost an instant. It was a while since you’ve slept for a healthy amount of time. You usually wouldn’t sleep or only had a few minutes of sleep since the phantom noises kept you awake constantly.

You slept for quite a long time, even past the time the group would appear and wake up in the real world. The moment it hit midnight Tyler quickly checked up on you, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t there when you woke up, but when he went to look towards the seat you slept on you were still there, asleep. He was taken aback by this since you slept for literally the whole day! He shook you awake, wanting to make sure you didn’t die or something in your sleep. You woke up, grumbling as you glared at the person who woke you only to see Tyler with a concerned expression. “What?” “What do you mean what!? You slept for like 30 hours!” He says and looks at you as if you were some kind of psycho. “Oh I did?” You ask, stretching your aching body and sit up. “Jeez Y/N when was the last time you’ve slept? And I mean properly.” You chuckle at his reaction and explain how you’ve had trouble sleeping, since you heard the phantoms like Ashlyn, just not so intensely. You explain your situation a bit more to him, not wanting to just leave him without an explanation on why you were the way you were.

You explain and Tyler looks at you with a sympathetic but quickly rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead; “Whatever nerd, come it’s time for you to teach us fighting or whatever..” He rolls his eyes and exits the bus. You usually teach the group how to fight when they can’t practice with Ashlyns parents since.. her parents can’t go into the realm with them. Tyler was sitting on the side while you were teaching Aiden and he yelled “Yea babe beat his ass!” He whistles and claps, having a proud look on his face. He definitely admires your skill but is like “pfft of course she’s strong she’s MY girlfriend” but in private he praises the living hell put of you. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you away from the group who is now resting and catching their breath. He pulls you closer to him and cups your cheek; “You did great princesa I’m so proud of you.” He says and kisses you on the forehead. “Oh well what kind of teacher would I be if I wasn’t any good?” You tease and wrap your arms around his neck. “Stop flirting I can hear you both!” Ashly yells and you both pull away quickly and look at each other, bursting into fits of laughter.

Aiden Clark

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He is a TEASE but like tbh he oblivious asf like bro doesn’t even notice for a good few months even after you start dating

He is really concerned once he finds out tho but still he doesn’t take it THAT seriously but still cares!!

He fr is terrified of you when you have energy tho cuz likeee your really strong

Aiden had seen you fr collapse somewhere from exhaustion and get back up like a few seconds later, beating the phantoms like it was nothing

He is super sad that he can’t see you in the normal world and tries to spend as much time with you as possible

Teases you if your stomach grumbles lmfao he finds that shit hilarious (runs away 2 seconds after he teases you)

Definitely brings you food, even if it’s not the most healthy but if you have a particular food you like expect to get it like at least twice a week

Overall is pretty chill but still caring<3

Aiden didn’t really notice at first, his mind wandering else where like usual or would tease and flirt with you. He only started noticing when you started dozing off in the most inconvenient places like when you were on a mission with the group and they just found you collapsed on the floor, only waking when you heard a phantom and kicked its ass! He was amazed but a little bit concerned but didn’t really show it, teasing you without an end. Once you got back to the graveyard he pulled you away from the rest of the group, finding Ashlyns rambling anout the next plan boring. He leads you to one of the buses and sits down, his back against the window and lays you down on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “What are you—” He silences you with a quick kiss on the lips and smiles, his usual manic like smile no where to be seen, only a genuine soft smile. “Rest, you need it. I can’t promise I will be here when you wake up but just rest, ‘kay? You’re safe.” He hugs you closer and your heart skips a beat. You smile and make yourself comfortable, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

Aiden layed there with you, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. He grew bored after a while, typical Aiden but he let his mind wander, keeping himself occupied by thinking of random things and unconsciously braiding pieces of your hair. He only snapped out of it when he heard a quite loud rumbling. He lifted his arms off you and looked down at you with wide eyes, his manic like smile reappearing. He chuckled, he would definitely tease you about that later.

After a while he awoke in the real world, he texted the rest of the group in the group chat and smiled mischievously. Once midnight hit, you were awoken by noises coming from outside the bus. You quickly sat up, but calm down once you see a smiling Aiden looking down at you. You sigh, relieved it wasn’t phantoms when the door to the bus suddenly opened. You stood up and saw the group holding different kids of food you haven’t eaten in years! You look at the food like a kid seeing a toy they want and look at Aiden who smiled at you. “Surprise.” He says and the rest of the group places the food down on the floor, everyone sitting down and dig in. You sit down and eat a good amount of food yourself, eating to your hearts content. Everyone watches in awe at how much you ate but they were happy, especially Aiden that they could do this for you.

After everyone finished eating you helped cleaning up, Aiden approaching you and hugging you from behind; “Enjoyed the food, love?” He says and kisses your jaw, then cheek. “Yeah, a lot. How did you come up with this?” He smirks and rests his chin on your shouler; “Oh, I heard a little noise~” He puts one arm on your stomach and chuckles; “And I thought you would be thrilled with this surprise!” Your face turns red and you turn around and smack his head, grumbling and storming away.

#aiden sbg x reader #tyler sbg x reader #aiden sbg #tyler sbg #tyler hernandez #aiden clark #aiden clark x reader #tyler hernandez x reader #sbg x reader #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard #sbg webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#sbg #sbg tyler

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satansapostle6 · 1 month ago

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Love The Sinner | Dexter Morgan

Dexter Morgan, a vigilante serial killer hiding in plain sight, loses sleep for the first time in his life when he’s met with the very last thing he expected: a kindred spirit.

Warnings: Violence. Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Part One.

Part Two. Innocent Until Proven Sexy.

Johnny Bertelli, in the many long months of my murder trial, became my favorite fucking person. The jury thankfully didn’t really see it that way, but we were running circles around the prosecutors. Our claim was naturally self defense, and I have to admit, it was a fucking good one. Story goes, I entered George Randall’s house to confront him, for causing my daughter’s suicide. I got angry, and things got heated, with neighbors to attest to the fact that we were both yelling. George got angry, and attacked me. And I defended myself. The story’s so good, even I believe it.

Technically, I did come to return George’s dishes to him, and he did get pretty heated with me when we argued, so really, we weren’t telling too many lies here. As far as George’s various embellishments, this case was pretty clean. I would say the only challenge Johnny and I faced in court was spinning my obvious lack of remorse when I was arrested. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Johnny take on a real challenge. It really is funny to watch this giant Italian guy pacing about the court during his addresses to the court while he’s built like Luca Brasi.

At the moment, I’m sitting up on the stand beside the judge, while the entire courtroom scrutinizes my every move and micro expression. There are about fifty pairs of eyes on me, but right now, I only care about one. A pair of sharp green eyes, that I still recognize from when I couldn’t work that goddamn phone. But I quickly snapped out of it, bringing my attention back to Johnny, and the trial. Somehow, this felt less interesting.

“So. Nicole, I know you’ve been through a lot in the past year or so, so forgive me,” my lawyer began, evoking sympathy from the court, “But did you have any intention of murdering George Randall when you knocked on his door?”

I took a moment, almost chewing on the question as I reluctantly relished its bitter taste.

“No.”

One thing good lawyers tell you: never answer more than the question you’re being asked. Even if you think it makes you sound better.

“Now, Nicole… I’m sorry that we have to go through this… Frankly, hurtful line of questioning. If you need to, just focus on me, alright? For now, this is between us. Not the court.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Johnny nodded kindly. God, we were fucking good at this. I was so close to nominating us both for Academy Awards.

“Can you tell me what you were thinking, as you knocked on George’s door?”

I thought for a moment, calling back to our preparations for this trial.

“I… I was naturally angry, and disgusted, when I read my daughter’s suicide note, stating that George Randall had…”

I did genuinely choke on the word.

“Raped… my daughter,” I told Johnny. “I was appalled, but… More than anything, I wanted answers.”

Johnny looks at me curiously. “‘Answers’?”

I cleared my throat. “I… I just couldn’t understand how someone, a human being, could be capable of that sort of evil. I mean, to rape a child? To cause a twelve year-old girl, my little girl, to take her own life? What kind of monster does that?”

Johnny nods, agreeing with me. “Yes. It’s unthinkable. That’s what it is, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, unthinkable, and unspeakable… But unfortunately, my client, Nicole, does not have the luxury of being able to ignore what this man did… Because this man’s evil claimed two lives; not only the life of twelve year-old Isabella Carvalho, but Nicole Carvalho’s as well, if the prosecution prevails,” he says harshly. “That is the truth; if the prosecution succeeds in wrongfully convicting Nicole Carvalho of murder, she will receive a prison sentence, or God forbid, the death penalty, for defending herself against the man who attacked her, the very same man who raped and drove her daughter to suicide at only twelve years old.”

Johnny nods solemnly, looking at me gratefully before turning to the court.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I believe that this is a crucial factor in this case; George Randall may be dead today, but the fact remains, he was neither murdered, nor a victim. He raped a twelve year-old girl.”

A harsh wave of silence washes over the court, as most hold their breath.

“He raped a twelve year old-girl, driving her to the irreversible act of suicide at the young age of twelve, not even a teenager yet, and when that girl’s mother knocked on her door, he couldn’t handle it, and lashed out at her!”

The jury seemed just as disturbed as they should’ve been at this. I sat quietly on the stand, not having to say a word. Johnny was working the court. Together, we were such good liars, I think we even believed ourselves, on some level. As Johnny continued his argument, highlighting me as the victim in our perfect narrative, I looked around the room with a deep sadness in my eyes. I really was thinking about my daughter. I felt like I was living in some dystopian world, a world where my daughter was dead, and I had become a murderer.

Everything around me felt so distant and surreal, but then, I looked into his eyes. The man I had hardly noticed before, because he looked like every man. It was him, watching my trial, next to another man he’d come with, a short bald man. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but it really was him, the man who had helped me with the phone at Miami Metro all those months ago. It was him, I was sure of it, sitting there lost in the crowd watching the proceedings of my court case with his eyes darting back and forth like at a basketball game. I looked right into his cold green eyes, and suddenly, reality hit me again.

I was no longer lost in my melancholic fantasy. I was brought back to real life, in all its delicious violence and passion. I didn’t believe in God, but this man had the presence of an angel. Not, like, a cartoonish cherub with tiny wings and a halo, but a real, biblically accurate angel. I looked into his cold, icy eyes that seemed to watch me with an almost inhuman precision, and I felt so strange. This feeling was like nothing I’d ever experienced before with any other stranger. I looked into his eyes, felt his austere gaze on me, and I could’ve sworn it was like all the blood drained from my body.

I looked into this man’s eyes, and I felt more things in that one millisecond than I’d ever felt in my life. This man looked to me like an angel. Not because he was so soft and comforting, but because I could’ve sworn I looked into his hawklike eyes and heard a voice tell me ‘do not be afraid’. It felt just as surreal as a human in the bible encountering a real angel, in all its terrifying glory. In that moment, I had no idea what came over me, but when our eyes met, I looked at him for a moment, no longer lying, or playing a character. I looked at him from across the room, electrified, and for a split second, I smiled. I don’t know why, I couldn’t help it.

I risked my entire court case just to look at this strange man across the room, and I just smiled, with no remorse or concern for anything but my own appetites. What was even stranger was that he looked at me, saw my flirtatious smile, and returned it, for so short of a time that afterwards, I couldn’t even be sure if it was real.

*****

After today, I left the court room with Johnny in tears. Real tears. Not many of them, but enough to warrant sunglasses. I was still emotional about Isabella, given that she was practically murdered, and it just so happened that it came out from time to time in public. After walking out of the courthouse with Johnny, with his hand on my back as we ran past the journalists trying to get interviews and photos, I wiped away the last of my tears, brushing mascara clumps off of my fingers.

“You did good, kiddo,” Johnny promises me.

I just smile, nodding. I love this man, because he talks to me like we’re on The Sopranos. I hurry down the street with him in my Jimmy Choos, rushing to our cars just as I accidentally bump into a man on the street.

“Oh, sorry—!” the man exclaims, as his companion turns.

I suddenly stop as, right there on the street, the man from Miami Metro and his bald friend stand right in front of us. Johnny is somewhat confused by my lingering, but waits with me. The bald man looks at me like he’s seen a ghost, staring at me like he’s starstruck. Fuck, I think, he must recognize me. I thought he was about to panic, or act like I have something contagious, given about half of society currently sees me as a murderer, but he seems to have a completely different reaction.

“O-Oh my God!” the little bald man exclaims, as the other man just smiles at me uncomfortably. “You’re—You’re—”

He seems incapable of finishing the sentence.

“Nicole Carvalho,” I finish the sentence for him.

“…Miami MILF!” he exclaims, before I can finish. “Murderer I’d Like to Fuck!”

I frowned, not really expecting that as Johnny chivalrously comes to my defense.

“Hey, pal…” my lawyer begins, before I cut him off.

“Johnny, it’s alright,” I turned to him, not threatened by this man.

The bald Japanese man scrambles before just handing me his coffee cup. “Do you think you could sign this?!”

As far as strange interactions after I became a household name, this honestly wasn’t the worst.

“You… want me to sign this?” I question, needing confirmation as he hands me the mostly empty coffee cup.

He nods. “Yeah!”

But before this can go any further, the man from Miami Metro intervenes, taking the coffee cup from me as an act of courtesy.

“Okay, Masuka,” he says responsibly, “I don’t think we need to do that—”

I take the cup back, smiling as I fish for a pen in my purse. “It’s alright,” I promise them, deciding to just sign the cup, “I’ve always wanted to give an autograph, albeit, under different circumstances… What’s your name?”

The bald man practically jumps for joy as I sign the cup. “Vince. It’s Vince.”

Honestly, his morbid fascination with me was somewhat… well… fascinating. I was probably a murderer, or at the very least definitely a killer, but he didn’t seem to care, because I looked good in a pencil skirt. God, the halo effect is real.

“Okay, great, I’ll make this out to Vince:”

“Thank you!” Vince says far too enthusiastically.

I nod. “Mm-hmm.”

The man from Miami Metro just stands there, awkwardly, frowning sympathetically as I sign and give back the paper cup.

“Here you go,” I say charismatically, “Just… Promise not to lift it for prints, okay?”

This makes even the sandy-haired guy from the police station chuckle, before Johnny chimes in, with perfect comedic timing.

“She’s kidding, of course,” Johnny says quickly, smiling, “You wouldn’t find much if you did.”

I smile as I seem to have made the bald man, Masuka’s, day.

“Thank you,” the sandy-haired guy says sheepishly, “And sorry…”

“Not a problem,” I offer, “At least I get to feel like a celebrity for… two seconds.”

“Oh, come on,” Vince Masuka says, “I’m sure guys ask you for autographs all the time.”

I smile awkwardly. “Surprisingly, no.”

“Really?” he thinks. “Huh. Well, they should, because… All due respect… You’re a dime piece.”

I smile. “Well, that just brightens up my day….”

He laughs a laugh that I can only describe as Beavis and Butthead-esque.

“Alright, well… Thank you for your time,” the Miami Metro guy thanks me politely and apologetically. “Vince… let’s leave the nice woman alone,” he prompted, seeming desperate to get away.

But why? Why was this man who had been watching me for days suddenly so keen on getting away? He must’ve wanted some semblance of distance from me… To watch me in the shadows, without me knowing he’s there. He was trying to get away, but I didn’t let him. I just couldn’t. He was like a fly stuck in my trap.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?” I ask him.

Forget the cat, curiosity was killing me.

“Uh, Dexter,” he says in a friendly manner, shaking my hand.

“Dexter,” I smile, as if trying it out.

Of course it had to be something like that. I considered that maybe he’d given me a fake name, but given that he had a friend with him, I supposed it probably wasn’t.

“Well, Vince, Dexter, it was nice meeting you,” I wave as I walk away with Johnny.

Vince looks at me like a lost puppy, waving hopelessly as I walk away. Dexter, on the other hand, gives me a tiny wave before the friendly smile on his face disappears, revealing a colder, smarter mind beneath the surface, if only for a second. I had no idea who this man was, or why he was really so interested in my case. Logic told me he could’ve been just as pervy of a fanboy as his friend, but something told me it certainly wasn’t that. I didn’t know what his fascination was with me, but I knew it was something dark. There was something just so present, and unnerving, in the way he looked at me, even just as he waved goodbye to me on the street.

I just couldn’t quite place it, and it was killing me. I racked my brain, but still, I couldn’t think of just one instance where somebody looked at me the exact same way this Dexter character did. It was strange. However, there was one memory of someone in particular that wasn’t exact, but a close match. The closest thing to the look I saw in Dexter’s eyes was the look in George Randall’s eyes, right before he died, somewhere between the tenth and eleventh stab wound.

Part Three.

#dexter morgan #dexter #dexter morgan x reader #michael c hall #dexter showtime

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lovezbrownies · 2 months ago

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I’m on my knees begging you. Darling ends up lashing out at Gen because they are done with the pain she causes them and ends up going to Reina for comfort.

Defense. (Yandere!Military Chief x GN!Reader x Maid)

Gen's Masterlist - General Masterlist

Synopsis: Sometimes, when you hurt a weak person so much, they tend to fight back.

Warnings: Gen. That's it, she is the warning. Abuse, and fighting.

Morning sunlight seeped through the narrow window, illuminating the modest room where you awoke, feeling more like a shadow than a person. Beside you, Gen stirred, her form a reminder of the paradox that was your existence. In the light of day, she appeared serene, almost ethereal, but the truth behind her façade was far more complicated. You could hardly remember the last time you felt free, unencumbered by her volatile emotions and the chains of control that bound you. Gen’s affection was often as cold as it was hot, a confusing mix of tenderness and brutality that left you reeling.

You shifted slightly, trying not to wake her, though a part of you was desperate for her to remain asleep. It was in these quiet moments, when she was still, that you felt the weight of your despair most acutely. The memories of her softer moments—the laughter, the fleeting tenderness—would swirl in your mind, but they were always tainted by the sharp edge of her rage, which could erupt without warning. As you lay there, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could endure this emotional tug-of-war, the constant oscillation between love and control.

The sound of her voice, sweet yet laced with something darker, pulled you from your thoughts. “Good morning, love,” Gen murmured, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The warmth in her gaze was intoxicating, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of possessiveness that made your skin crawl. “You look so tired. Did you sleep well?” Her concern felt more like an accusation, a reminder that your well-being was tied to her whims. You forced a smile, a hollow gesture that barely touched your eyes. “Just a little restless,” you replied, your voice shaking slightly.

Gen studied you, her gaze penetrating, as if she could peel back the layers of your carefully constructed facade. “Restlessness doesn’t suit you. You know I can help with that, right?” There was a subtle hint of lust in her words, a reminder that any defiance could lead to repercussions. You wanted to scream that you needed more than her twisted version of help, that you were suffocating under her grasp, but the fear of inciting her wrath held you captive. Instead, you nodded, feeling the chains of your reality tighten around you once more.

Days turned into a blur, and you found yourself caught in an unending cycle of Gen’s emotional outbursts. One moment she would be affectionate, wrapping you in her arms as if you were the only thing that mattered, and the next, she would lash out with words that sliced through you like daggers. You had grown accustomed to the shifting tides of her moods, but the toll it took on your psyche was unbearable. The pressure built like a coiled spring, and with every passing day, you felt more trapped, more desperate to escape the prison of your life.

One fateful evening, the tension reached a boiling point. Gen had returned from a meeting, her mood darkened by the weight of her position as Chief of Military and the idiocy of the rest of the Chiefs. You could feel the storm brewing long before she stepped through the door, her energy crackling in the air like a lightning bolt ready to strike. You had prepared yourself for it, but nothing could shield you from the inevitable confrontation. “What’s wrong with you today?” she snapped, her eyes flashing as they found you in the corner of the room. “You’re acting like a child. Are you hiding something from me?”

Your heart raced, and the familiar dread pooled in your stomach. “I’m not hiding anything, Gen,” you stammered, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just—” But before you could finish, she stepped closer, her presence engulfing you, and the air felt thick with tension. “You think I don’t know when you’re lying?” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. In that moment, the fragile threads of your restraint snapped.

“I can’t take this anymore!”

The words burst forth, a primal scream of frustration and anguish. You could feel the weight of your emotions crashing down like a tidal wave, overwhelming you in a way you had never experienced. “I’m tired of your games, Gen! I’m not your possession!” The room fell silent, your voice echoing off the walls like a haunting refrain. For a moment, you felt liberated, the release of truth washing over you, but the fear of her response loomed large.

Gen’s expression shifted from surprise to anger, her eyes darkening as she took a step back, visibly shocked by your outburst. “How dare you speak to me like that?” she spat, her voice cold and unyielding. “You think you can just throw a tantrum and face no consequences? You belong to me!” The venom in her words sent chills down your spine, and despite the defiance you had just shown, you felt a deep sense of dread settle over you.

“I-I belong to no one!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. With that, you turned and fled, the need to escape her presence overwhelming any rational thought. You raced down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest, desperate to find solace in the only place you could—Reina’s quarters.

You burst into the small, dimly lit room that belonged to Reina, the maid who had become your secret confidante and sanctuary in this life of turmoil. The air was heavy with the scent of lavender, a calming balm in the storm of your emotions. When Reina looked up, her expression shifted from surprise to concern as she took in your disheveled state. Without a word, you rushed into her arms, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you like a cocoon, a safe harbor amidst the chaos.

“Oh, love,” Reina whispered, her voice soft and soothing as she held you close, allowing you to bury your face in the crook of her neck. The comfort of her presence washed over you, momentarily dulling the edges of your pain. “What happened?” she asked gently, her hands stroking your hair, grounding you in the moment. You clung to her as if your life depended on it, the tears you had been holding back spilling over as you let the floodgates open.

“It’s Gen,” you choked out between sobs. “I’m so tired of her hot and cold behavior. One moment she loves me, and the next, I’m nothing but a burden to her. I just snapped! I told her I couldn’t take it anymore, and I…” Your words tumbled out in a rush, the raw honesty of your feelings spilling forth in a torrent that felt both terrifying and liberating.

Reina held you tighter, her body radiating warmth and support. “You did what you had to do,” she murmured, her voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “You stood up for yourself, and that takes courage. I’m so proud of you.” Her words wrapped around you, filling the void of despair that had threatened to consume you. You wanted to believe her, to find strength in her support, but the lingering fear of Gen’s wrath gnawed at the edges of your mind.

“I’m so scared, Reina,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “What if she retaliates? What if she finds out about us?” The weight of your secret hung heavily between you, the knowledge that your love was forbidden casting a shadow over your fragile moment of solace. “We can’t be together like this. It’s too dangerous.”

Reina’s eyes softened, filled with empathy and understanding. “I know, love. But you have to remember that you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll find a way to navigate this together, just like we always have.” Her words were a promise, a reminder that in this dark world, there was still a flicker of hope, a connection that could not be extinguished by Gen’s control.

As you melted into her embrace, the warmth of her body against yours felt like a shield against the storm outside. In that moment, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, to let go of the burdens you had carried for so long. You breathed in the scent of lavender, letting it fill your lungs, grounding yourself in the reality that for now, you were safe. But deep down, the shadow of Gen loomed large, a constant reminder that your love was a fragile thing, existing in a world that sought to tear it apart.

#yandere #yandere oc x reader #gn reader #oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere oc #x reader #tw yandere #gender neutral #yandere x reader #female yandere #female x reader #female yandere x reader #sigh #Gen Ludenhart

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dreamwritersworld · 2 years ago

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Disconnected… part 2. (sully family x reader)

“this is what you’ve made me become.”

…and so Jake watched his creation, the daughter he now realizes he damaged. His body ran cold as he watched her pick up a tree branch…and then he followed her chilling whistles.

Y/n thought that was all…that she got all the soldiers, until she heard rustles in the woods. There was no hesitation in the her shot. The teenage girl kicked the gun away from the soldier arms, looked directly into her fathers eyes..

“This. Is what we do to get rid of the bad people. It shouldn’t take that long for you to realize how badly you protect this clan and your family.”

Her eyes were cold and black, the pleads from the man didn’t stop.

“You can breath, you can blink, you can cry….Eywa, you already are. You’re going to be stuck in that broken shell of a body forever.”

Then she cut the man’s vision clear bashing his head in with the thick tree branch.

“Y/n…Y/n s-stop…please. You killed those soldiers, and did more than killing to Quaritch Y/n, you didn’t even blink.”

“You know why I did it? I did it because I wanted to.”

“Don’t be stupid Y/n please. You can fool yourself and everyone else! But you can’t fool me! What happened to you? Because this isn’t you..”

“How would you know about me.”

The built up tension…over years of being locked away and pushed from her family…she aimed the gun to her siblings and mother who came in…the loudness and facial expression towards Y/n felt so unfamiliar…uncomfortable. They never looked at her..and now? Now they see her.

Neytiri’s eyes and hears rang…all she could hear were her mothers warning on Y/n’s behavior…now, she regretted ignoring her persistence on fixing Y/n. Mo’at said she was a monster but now…Neytiri was convinced, Y/n was the devil.

The Erie silence scared her…something she found so peaceful was now so scary. Y/n took her gun and ran through the woods hoping to just breathe for a moment.

It had been hours and everyone went off looking for her…Mo’at especially. Her poor grandchild couldn’t stand being with anyone because that’s how Jake made her, he made her used to being by herself. He gave her all the wrong traits…angry, aggressive, defensive, closed off and…sad.

*Flashback*

Jake made Y/n so stressed that the simplest thing set her off.

Y/n walked away angrily from training, having a rough day of archery…Neteyam could hear his younger sibling exhaling heavily.

“What happened?”

“All my shots were bad, all of them. Every single one.”

Neteyam turned around to the spots Y/n was supposed to aim, masking a surprised face towards the slightly off target aims, no it wasn’t in the exact center but it was almost there, still a good shot.

…it was always all too wrong for Y/n.

The frustrating memory came to an end when Y/n heard someone approaching.

“…Y/n! Please come back home! This is- it’s just not ok. The decisions your making right now aren’t wise, especially at this hour-“

“You think I’m some idiot! Well I didn’t ask to be made! I didn’t ask to be torn apart and put back together over and over! To turn into some…some monster!”

“Y/n…“

“No! No don’t say I’m wrong! You don’t get to say that! I spent hours on end training just so I could be perfect for him! For my own father..but I wasn’t! I proved myself over and over and over and over and over and over-“

“..ok Y/n I get it now-“

“No you don’t!”

“…I know you act like you’re the meanest and strongest but you’re actually the most scared of all…I know that you push anyone’s who’s willing to put up with you, cause just a little bit of love reminds you of how big and empty that hole inside you actually is.”

“Stop!”

“I know you feel like no one cares about you!…I know who you are Y/n!…because you were me. My parents always pushed on me to be the greatest tsahik..gave me much more harder time than a child can bare..so please Y/n realize that you’re ok now. I’m here”

For a moment..silence stood between the two…and the girl who Mo’at hoped would get better..broke down, into her grandmother’s arms.

“You were born into a family that doesn’t always appreciate you, but one day things are going to be very different..”

Mo’at placed a sleeping remedy on Y/n’s face hoping to buy her grandchild a good rest and time before the storm. Y/n softly fell asleep into her grandmothers arms. The most emotional yet beautiful sight Moat had ever seen…the child who was always overseen was now peacefully shedding tears while sleeping…it hurt her looking at the way Y/n was fully on guard still. Not once did her hand lose grip on her gun, and her body remained tense.

!💓!

There will be one more part to this! I’m so sorry for the major delay, i haven’t had any time to write and i hope this is good! Sorry for it being short but I’d also love if you guys send in requests for Y/n’s ending in this 💓

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll l @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul l @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @hotdsstuff @heart-an0n @he110hon @go-river-flows

#jake sully x reader #angst #loak x reader #neteyam sully #neytiri sully #sully family x reader #neteyam x reader #avatar the way of water #sully family x daughter reader #avatar loak #SoundCloud

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just-a-repa · 2 months ago

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I have finished part 3 of my modern AU

Here is the previous part

Here are teenage Obi-Wan and Anakin

With the exception of Dooku and Jocasta, I drew all the character as teenagers/young adults btw

Again, quick disclaimer: no clue how the foster care actually works in the UK (esp back then), i did a bit of research but it's not going to be accurate

Obi-Wan was born in 1975, his father died when he was a baby, and his mother got into substance abuse, so him and his older brother were sent into foster care. They got abused by that temporary family, but when he was 5, they investigated those foster parents and they shut them down. He got separated from his brother. He got labeled as a "problem child" after this, so not many parents really wanted to deal with him. He got adopted a few times, but it was mostly abusive families so he ran away a lot, rebelled, and eventually got sent back

When he was 13, he got adopted by Qui-Gon. Obi found him VERY wierd. He is thinking like: this strange man came in, adopted ME of all people, who is labeled troubled, AND he lives alone?! What a wierdo

So they bonded. Took a hefty amount of reassurance, love and support (and a few runaway attempts) but they built a trusting father-son relationship that goes into friendship

Obi met Quinlan in highschool, started dating, turned out to be a longer relationship. He then went to lawschool to become a defense attorney

Anakin was born in 1991. He lived with only his mom, up until Shmi was killed by her abusive partner, Watto when Ani was only 9. He ended up with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was already 48 by the time Anakin came into his life (I cannot let him die), so he got spoiled even more than Obi. Ani was a huge technology nerd and was a big gamer. (no one can convince me otherwise) Obi-Wan wasn't thrilled to have Anakin in their lives, but he eventually concluded that he was not that bad

He met Padme at a college party. Ani was studying to be a pilot, she was studying to be a politician. Few years later had the twins, but Padme didn't die in childbirth (I cannot let her die either)

Obi-Wan is bisexual and Anakin is straight

#obi wan #obi wan kenobi #anakin #anakin skywalker #qui gon #qui gon jinn #dooku #jocasta nu #rael averross #star wars #star wars fanart #star wars art #star wars au #star wars modern au #my art

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afanofmanyships · 2 years ago

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Weird idea, but what if Billy, klarion, and Danny all decided to screw with the batfam by telling them a big lie about how Gotham came to be centuries ago only for it to be true in the end.

Batman eavesdropping around the corner: Phantom, Marvel, and Klarion 'recounting the old day’s':

P: “Ya know, Batman reminds of [insert name] when SHE was still Gotham”

C M: “I know right, she had people come all across the land to challenge her and kept the roads safer for travelers.”

K: “Then it’s a good thing she is gone.”

C M: “Says the one that dug a giant that went MILES into the ground and proceeded build a two story house on top of it.”

K: “Oh screw off!🖕”

P to M: “You’re just mad that she stated in her will to have ALL her possessions burned so that no one would be able to use them.”

C M: “If we’re talking about possessions, then who’s the one that made a tomestone that said 'Here Lies Gotham, You May Have Know her as [insert full name], a True Friend and Ally' in front of the house only for it to start trending everywhere.”

P: “In my defense that was how I honored many of my fellow ghosts. How would I supposed to know a passing traveler seeking refuge would come across the house, it was in the middle of nowhere!!”

K: “For decades, people were wondering who wrote those ‘strange symbols’ and if the land was cursed or not.”

Only for Danny retort to tease Klarion on how Gotham mothered him and taught him how to gain control of his powers that lead him to tleek, with Captain Marvel chiming in. Only to stop when they made sure that Batman was gone.

All three burst out laughing

P: “Y-you think he bought it?”

C M: “Probably with how he’s been trying to figure out my identity for years.”

K: “As entertaining as all of this is, who should we go after next?”

Danny (with hands calatps in front his face to hide his smile): “I know just the person.”

A few weeks later in JL Headquarters:

Nightwing, Phantom, and Captain Marvel walking side by side in the hallway, Nightwing does a stunt and Phantoms eyes gloss over with remembrance and a bit of sorrow. Nightwing then panics and asks if he’s okay only for him to say: “It’s okay child, you just remind me of my first student.”

Danny floats a bit ahead of them, trying and succeeding to not break character.

Marvel explains: “A decade after the passing of a dear friend, a traveler came across her tome. Enchanted by the symbols, the traveler spread the word of the symbols and became rich. With these riches came greed and with this greed came corruption that birthed Phantoms first student.”

Phantom continues: “Four decades after the passing of our dear friend, I decided to pay a visit to our friend and saw the most strangest thing. A four year old living inside the house Klarion built.”

Dick: “May I asked why that is strange?”

M: “After Phantom made the tomestone, me and Klarion created a spell that only allows people who have the same goal as [insert name] to walk past the tomestone. And if they do not, they would feel this overwhelming urge to not pass the tome when reaches a 100 feet of it.”

Dick: “Even if people couldn’t approach the tomestone or house, wouldn’t there be some kind of security?”

M: “The traveler had people build a small mansion 300 feet in front of the tome making people pay to just see the stone and cut down those who didn’t pay, foolishly believing that that would be enough to stop people from coming close to the stone and so he never bothered to check on it.”

P: “I decided to watch over the child for the day and found out something interesting. This child liked to soar through the trees at night, all though clumsy and falling off the trees she would always get back up the trees soar through the tree again with a smile on her face.”

M: “He then, almost, scared the ghost out of her by popping into existence and offering to help her perfect her soaring.”

Dick laughs

Danny starts to smile: “It was a fun time for both of us, soaring through the trees, unintentionally stopping a few robberies. The village folk even nicknamed her the Soaring Nightingale, she was so embarrassed and happy with that name that she never got the chance to change it. We were happy, until she turned 10.”

Phantom stops walking

Nightwing and Marvel also stop walking. Dick nervously asks: “What happened after Nightingale turned 10?”

M: “Children aging from 8-11 years of age started to disappear from the streets and homes. Only to reappear in random locations with no reelection of what happened and a new found fear of adults of who they know and don’t know.” Sighs “Phantom never seen anything like it before and called on me to help out.”

P: “Nightingale sacked him right into his sunshine smile face, tried to warn him not to pop out of nowhere.”

M: “Lier! You didn’t try to do anything.”

Dick trying to get them back on topic: “Did you find out who was behind the disappearances?”

P: “As it turns out, it was the traveler that was behind the kidnappings. He heard stories about 'The Soaring Nightingale' and wanted to know if she would be able to privately show him some of her 'skills'.”

Dick eyes widen: “You don’t mean…”

M(nods): “I have never seen Phantom wanting to murder a human being that badly in my life, before that day. It took both of us to convince Phantom to wait a month after we gather ALL the evidence to put the traveler and his associates down forever, for him to do anything he wanted to the traveler and those involved.”

P: “A month and three years later, we gathered all evidence and spread it as quickly and efficiently as we can.”

M: “It worked well with the combination of the traveler being a tyrant and the seeds of doubt that Phantom, pain stickily, sowed in the neighboring villages. Before we know it, their execution day was upon us.”

P: “That day was one to remember.”

M: “You possessed a skeleton, donned on a creepy black cloak, grabbed the biggest sith you can find, came to the execution sight, and pointed at them saying ‘I have come to collect your debt.’ Then you kidnapped them to do gods knows what, only to come back three hours later with them so that we could finish the execution.”

P: “Well I couldn’t let them off that easy after knowing what wanted from my student now can I.”

Dick, being so invested in the story, asks: “What happened after that day? Did she meet Klarion?”

P: “After that day, we slowly fell back into our old routine from before. Not without a few rough patches and changes along the way, of course.”

Marvel pretends to whisper to Dick: “When she turned 18, Nightingale met the love of her life and Phantom summoned an actual shovel to threaten her lover with.”

P: “Thank you, Cap! When she was 19, 'Gale married her lover. A year later she met Klarion and accidentally pied him in the face because she thought that it was her husband walking through.”

Dick winces: “Was she okay? Klarion didn’t do anything did he?”

M: “Contry to what you’re thinking. Klarion just stood there saying ‘You’re lucky that you have a little monster on the way or else you would have me to deal with.’”

Nightwing starts asking about the baby and if they were adorable only to be reminded by Barbra, over the comms, to get back on topic and gather more information: “Did anything else happen afterwards?”

P: “Over the years her family grew. When her children were old enough, Nightingale told them stories about her younger days and taught them how to soar through the trees like she did when she was a child.” A flash of happiness shows through his eyes. “By the time peace was once again restored, Nightingale was on her deathbed telling her children to go see what the world has to offer now that peace was upon them.”

M: “Me and Phantom decided to move Gothams gave deeper underground then buried Nightingale right next to her, made this small cave right above them, and wisely moved the tomestones underground so that that problem won’t happen again.”

Dick: “Did anything else happen afterwards?”

P: “Her children decided that they didn’t want any of their mothers possessions, except for the little gifts she gave them before her passing, saying that she’ll live on whenever they are flying,” smirks at Nightwing when he picked up that last word, “and requested us to burn down the mansion (the 300 feet one) as they didn’t want anything to do with it.”

M: “After they left, Klarion renovated the house and made it more spacious.”

All three decided to chat and walk down the hall to a meeting they no doubt missed or late to.

(M: “After him, how about we do two birds one stone or, in this case, three birds.”

P and K both agree

Billy starts smirking: “Alright! Here’s the plan-”)

A month later in Gotham (Billy wanted to wait at least 3 weeks but was out voted by two sadists who wanted to see the bats sworn in their seats):

Klarion is reported to be causing trouble around Gotham so the bats have to deal with him. Only to see Klarion and Marvel having tea and 'reminiscing' about the 'good old days'.

M: “The dynamic between Red Hood and Red Robin when they first met honestly reminded me of when the Scarlet Sisters reunited.”

K: “The amount of chaos those two created just by being near one another was incredible.”

M: “Only for you and Phantom who seemed to thrive on the same level as you. I had to do damage control.”

Klarion rolls his eyes: “That was exactly the reason why we went behind your back and created a makeshift portal.”

Marvel starts to smirk: “And because of that you gained a little SHADOW.”

Klarion slams his cup down: “IF I had known something like THAT would happen I-”

M: “wouldn’t have done anything because you cared about the kid.”

K:🖕

Clockwork behind the scenes decided: “Ah yes, let’s make this a reality.” And sends them back in time to make the stories believable.

Master List

#dc x dp #Danny phantom #young justice klarion #dc captain marvel

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itsyaboighostie · 2 months ago

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Murder Drones Au where Uzi is a just a fucking door and Khan's love for Doors is just him adoring his daughter.

While constructing the doors, Khan and Nori built Project Unified Zone Intelligence, an AI program that has full access to the entire bunker with the purpose of maintaining and protecting its occupants from Disassembly Drones and environmental threats caused by the planet's toxic atmosphere.

Everything begins with Khan making a joke about the Project being the closest they'll get to having an actual child, which sparked the ever brilliant idea between the two to give the AI a personality and sentience by mixing both of their codes and modifying it to fit the systems non-Worker Drone programming and formatting. Of course the AI is no use if it's infected by the Absolute Solver, so with a bit (read: a lot) of tinkering on Nori's side with the Cross Patch, Uzi was born!

A few things/events/facts to note for this AU:

When they first released the Untrained Neutral Network into the system, they limited her access to just Doors and lights. Having told none of the other Workers about Project U.Z.I. in fear of someone sabotaging it for whatever reason, the entire bunker was left confused when the doors would randomly lock or open and the lights would flicker with no rhyme or reason.

The couple would go around bragging about their new daughter to everyone, but when asked to see her they would bring up a (horrible) excuse as to why no one should see her. For years everyone thought they were just making her up.

Uzi loved to play with her parents by closing the doors on them as they're about to walk through, this of course led to Khan constantly baby talking doors at random, which then led to the nickname "Doorman" given to him by other Drones.

Khan took this as a new badge to wear and thus the Doorman family was created.

When Uzi got older, she was given more access to the bunker. Come time when most young Drones in her generation are given their Adult Models, Uzi was finally given a body of her own and complete control over the entire bunker. This is also when people realize Uzi wasn't just a delusion made up by her parents.

Khan doesn't stop talking to his daughter through doors even after she was given a physical body, which led to a lot of embarrassment for Uzi when he wouldn't stop the "doors are my real daughter" jokes.

Because she was given a body way later than her peers, she often struggled with walking and talking which caused a lot of bullying from her peers.

After mastering basic motor skills, Uzi went on to start building herself other bodies using spare parts she scavenged from outside. These can range from spare bodies in case something happens to her current one to Dissembly Drone-esque models crafted for the purpose of defense should an actual one get in.

Up to the current canon timeline, no one still knows that Uzi has complete control over the entire bunker.

She meets N when scavenging parts for an upgrade she's been working on that requires a lot of Worker Drone cores, an upgrade that consists of allowing the entire bunker to be mobile and move.

Everything basically plays out the same except Uzi has a bit more of an advantage against the Murder Drones mayhaps 👀

#n murder drones #murder drones n #murderdrones #murder drones uzi #murder drones #murder drones au #Doorzi #khan murder drones #murder drones khan #does this scream daddy issues?#absolutely! :D #ghost rambles

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streamafterlaughter · 4 months ago

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Fundamental Differing

prev chapter | masterlist | playlist | pinboard

Chapter XXIII: I Just Might Give My Heart

a/n: thank u for ur patience as i overcome the dreaded plague to continue writing this godforsaken fic. The first leg is officially OVER. so much has happened, and so much time has passed between chapters i could barely recap what’s gone on. thank you for sticking it out with me, we’re almost at the end now. kinda. who knows what that means when it’s me talking, i clearly can’t keep my word on anything.

tags/cw: angst per us, fluff, eddie x gn!afab!reader, pining, tears, idiots in love, soulmates, blah blah blah we love a happy chapter! swearing, bff!steve, bff!robin, these two can’t do shit on their own apparently. use of y/n but you know that by now.

—-

August 1990

Eddie’s POV

He slams the third bottle down on the counter, over which Steve is leaning, a disappointed glare directed at Eddie. “It’s been a month. Go fix it. Or don’t, but you gotta quit doing whatever this is.” Eddie doesn’t answer, only rolls his eyes as he wordlessly beckons for another beer.

“There’s nothing to fix, Steve. It’s over. For real this time, I swear.”

“And that’s what you want?”

Of course it’s not. He’s never wanted this, to watch as if from outside his body as he breaks your heart, leaving you alone and sobbing as he drunkenly drives away from everything you’d built together. But that’s what he’d chosen to do. He chose the life of a washed up rockstar over being with the one person he could trust with his life. Now he’s stuck obeying his label, his rabid fans, letting them drain his energy from his skin while you’re out there, gluing yourself back together when he should be the one picking up the pieces. He fucked up, bad, and there’s no way he’ll ever earn that second chance with you now. All he can do is drink to numb that pain, to maybe forget that realization that you’re gone. That he’ll never get to call you his again.

___

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

”Casanova!” Eddie rolls his eyes at the sound of Robin’s voice, “Wait up, dweeb!” She jogs to catch up to where he loads the trailer with his amps, pretending fruitlessly that he is deaf, ignoring her calls completely. She refuses to play along, though, still yapping into his already ringing ears. “Listen. I know we haven’t been, like, on the best terms. I’m sure you can understand why. But we’re all gonna go to the beach tonight. Hit the arcades, grab some food. I hope you come- ah,” She bites her lip, trying not to snicker at her choice of words. “I hope you decide to hang. Both of you.”

Eddie nods curtly, lips pressed tightly together. He can barely look at her, your best friend, that he pretty much made an unwilling third party only hours ago.

“I’ll do my best.”

She rolls her eyes, making no effort to hide her annoyance. “C’mon! It’ll be fun! It’ll be like we’re back-“

”Back what, Robin? Back in Hawkins?” He doesn’t mean to spit so much venom with his response, but in his defense, she of all people should be able to understand his reluctance.

“No, stupid. Back to normal. Being friends, no worries about fame, that shit. No need to be a dick about it.” Her lighthearted tone carries a slight edge, slicing Eddie with her words. “I’m sure Y/n would appreciate a semblance of normal.”

He rolls his eyes again, irritated at her use of you to convince him, knowing it will work. He will bend at every whim for you. Every time he blinks, he gets a flash of this morning. The sweat on your skin, your whimpers in his ear.

“Dingus!” Robin snaps him back to the present. “Good god, could you be any more pathetic?”

Luckily, he is saved from answering that question. “Munson!” Jeff calls from the steps of the bus. “Cmon, man! Those waves aren’t gonna surf themselves!”

—

Your POV

“Were you, um-“ Steve hesitates, evading your eyes as he saunters forward, head hanging like a shy child.

“Steve,” You start, prepared to ramble a pathetic excuse for why you can’t talk about it.

“Never mind, never mind. Just, y’know,”

“Yeah,” you scoff, shoving yourself into the booth as the driver pulls away from another hotel parking lot. “You worry, I get it.” You pick at your nails, the skin around your cuticles fraying like an old sweater.

“Only because you keep giving me reasons to.” There’s a softness in his scolding, the ghost of a smirk on his sweet face. Poor, sweet Steve. Your best friend, after everything. And you’ve been sending him into cardiac arrest these last six weeks. “I’m sorry, I know you want your privacy from everything. You can trust me. I have no reason to share any of it with the label. I just wanna make sure you’re both alright.”

You nod, shaking your head frantically, trying to shake away the panic. “I told him I love him. I also might have told him about playing Lolla, but I don’t really remember.” You wince, awaiting his reaction, but it doesn’t come. He blinks, face blank, like you’ve only just told him about a book you’ve read. “I give you permission to freak out now.”

He does the last thing you expect from him. Steve bursts into laughter. It’s a bark, a sudden crack in the sound barrier that startles you before you mirror his sounds. Quickly, though, Steve takes a breath to compose himself, ridding the giggles from his belly more quietly, as not to draw attention from the other, crankier passengers. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I promise. It’s just,” He looks for his words on the table before him. “It’s about fuckin’ time, y’know?” His laughter takes over again, and you wipe a tear from your own giggle fit away as you catch your breath. Your cheeks are flushed, heart erratic as you gossip with your friend. That’s all he is right now. Not your manager, not your babysitter. He’s just Steve, and you’re so excited to divulge everything with him.

“How’d it go down? If you wanna tell me, obviously you don’t have t-“

“Of course I want to tell you, dummy. You just have to promise you don’t tell Robin. I don’t care that she knows, but she can’t know I told you all about it before her.” Steve nods in agreement, and you’re off to the races. You tell him how you’d knocked on his door the night before, drunk off your ass. You’d only wanted to tell him about Lollapalooza, you swear. You recall the way he’d looked at you, like he was drinking in your presence, as if you’d been a blessing then, and you let out the one thing you’d wanted to hold onto, at least for a while. You feel yourself blush as you recount the morning after, the way you’d given yourself to Eddie entirely, the relief you’d felt during, and the deep seated worry you feel now. You tell Steve everything, after keeping him in the dark for so long. All the while, he listens as the bus jostles you around, his hand a comforting one in your own. When you finish, you’re breathless, like you’ve just relived the whole thing. Steve only blinks, seemingly digesting it all before he can form a thought.

Finally though, he speaks. “And you expect me not to let any of this slip to Robin?”

You send a half assed slap to his shoulder. “Just for the day, until I get the energy to tell her.” The both of you descend into laughter again.

—

The sun is at its highest point in the sky when you reach the beach. You have no idea what town, what state you’ve all landed in, but the sand is hot and soft under your toes, and the water is a crisp blue to match the cloudless sky. You slide your sunglasses down your nose, and make your way to the dunes.

Behind you, the guys lug the coolers and umbrellas while you and your friends take care of the towels and beach chairs. Eddie is somewhere in the back of your rather large crowd, a boombox on his shoulder. You’re able to find a spot to hold your party further down the beach, and the crew begins to set up the spot like they do the stages every night, in sync with each other without speaking a word. Once they’ve snapped out of laser focus, you spread out your towel near one of the umbrellas, straight across from where Eddie has plopped down his beach chair. You use your sunglasses to your advantage, shamelessly checking out the sight before you. Eddie’s gotten slightly tanner as the summer’s gone on, his shoulders dusted with freckles that remind you of stars, ones you’ve spent hours tracing imaginary constellations on. He shines with sweat in the heavy sun, his shorts riding up on his sticky lotion legs. He’s tied his hair back in a bun to keep it off his neck, and he’s wearing sunglasses that surely must be an homage to Ozzy. Ink litters his arms and torso, pretty pictures you want to ask him about, want to trace with your tongue and lips and teeth.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His voice shatters your inspection, your face blistering and not because of the weather. You compose quickly, though, remembering your camera stuffed inside your tote bag.

“Sure thing!” You chirp, holding the viewfinder to your face. “Say cheese!”

Eddie flips off the camera, a wry smile on his face and you can’t help laughing. “Aw, that wasn’t very nice!”

“I have an image to uphold, doll.” The nickname brings a silence to your group, a quick one, barely noticeable to anyone else. But you sense it. The beat of confusion no ones sure they can ask about.

Gareth comes to the rescue. “Uh, anyone down to surf? Waves look pretty good!”

—

Eddie’s POV

“So,” Jeff paddles his board up to Eddie’s, where he’s straddled as the current bobs him around. “How was your night?” The teasing is palpable.

Eddie speaks through gritted teeth, biting back the biggest smile. “Word travels fast around here, huh?”

“Only when the word is that you two finally got together again!” This time it’s Gareth who speaks, causing Eddie to throw his head back and groan. “Hey, man, we’re happy for ya! Can’t blame us for being excited when we’ve watched you mope about them for a month.” Jeff snorts at the drummer’s comment, and Eddie sends a frustrated splash towards him.

“I hate you both.” He mumbles, absolutely defeated.

“Cmon, man. Give us something!” Gareth is pleading now, pathetically. “At least tell us how it happened!”

Eddie has no choice but to relent. He recounts a summary of the past day and a half, leaving out some minor details to spare his own dignity. By the time he’s finished, his bandmates gawk at him, mouths agape and eyes wide.

“Wait,” Jeff finally says, “So you guys still aren’t together?!” Gareth groans, long and loud, before dramatically falling back on his board, into the water. “You’re a moron!” He exclaims when he comes to the surface, hurling water at Eddie.

“Thanks, man.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’re happy for you, really, but-“ He stops himself, choosing his next words carefully. “I don't think we can watch this happen again, I know I can’t.” His tone is suddenly somber, gentle. “You either have to commit, or you have to let them go. I’m begging you not to put them— or you— through that again.”

Eddie is caught off guard by his buddy’s sensitivity. Gareth and Jeff aren’t touchy-feely, not the way Steve is, not the way you are. They’re usually rather stoic.

“I didn’t intend to go through it the first time.” He’s chosen defensiveness, ready to board up the door to his feelings for the sake of keeping the peace.

“No one intends to go through that, obviously. But, Ed, seriously. Think about it. You’re working the program, you’re doing really well too. Don’t let this be a reason you throw it all away. If you love them, if you really, really mean it this time, fine. But if I have to watch you break their heart again, I’m leaving the band.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Gareth shakes his head. “Don’t try to find out.”

They stare each other down, both convinced they have all the answers, until Jeff breaks the tension. “That’s the one! That’s the best one all day!” And he’s off, paddling towards the growing waves and leaving his friends to stir.

—

It’s almost sunset when they leave the ocean, retreating to the rest of the group still bathing in the golden hue of the sun. Everyone’s there, talking and drinking, laughing and singing along to Celine Dion’s If You Asked Me To. He snickers at the sight, his mismatched group of friends, people he’d never have expected to ever have a bond with, enjoying their well earned rest. Finally, his eyes land on you. Immersed in your book, a well loved copy of Play It As It Lays, you sit stretched out in your beach chair, skin shiny with sweat and sunscreen, a red bathing suit leaving nothing to the imagination. Your feet are buried beneath the soft sand, and Eddie can see that you’re wiggling your toes. Your sunglasses sit on the bridge of your nose, perched like reading glasses as your eyes scan the page.

He feels a presence next to him before he can see it. “You really shouldn’t stare at people like that. It’s creepy.” Robin has planted herself next to him, speaking low enough so you can’t hear her.

“I wasn’t-“ There’s no point. He’d be lying, anyway. “Ugh, whatever.”

She snorts, returning to her less stealthy self. “Uh huh, exactly. Anyway, what’s your plan, Romeo?”

“My plan?”

She nods. “For your month off. Where in the world will Eddie Munson go next?” He can’t answer, and Robin definitely feels him tense at her question. “Me and Lilith are going to Vermont, I think. They have uh, great syrup there I’ve heard.” She’s steamrolling herself, and it brings the beginning of a smile to Eddie’s face. “You ever been? To Vermont?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can’t say I have.”

“Me either. Me… either.” She looks down at her hands, letting the silence fester until it’s unbearable.

“I might go back home.” He says it quietly, not yet sure if the word fits in his mouth anymore. Home.

“Where’s home?”

At that, he glances up at you. You’ve put your book aside to lounge further, the chair further back, legs outstretched in front of you as your eyes flutter closed. Right there. “Well, not home I guess. To Wayne’s. Spend some time with the old man.”

Robin nods, lips slightly pursed as if she’s questioning his response. She can see right through him.

Luckily, though, he’s saved from explaining anything further. “Who’s up for some arcade games? Boardwalk’s only a ten minute walk from here!” Sylvie shakes their bag of quarters, an attempt at enticing the tired group into physical activity.

It seems to rouse you from your catnap. “I’m in. You, me,” you’re pointing at Eddie. “Air hockey. Loser buys the ice cream.”

“What are we, in high school?” Robin snorts, but her eyes widen when she realizes what she’s said. “I am so sorry.”

You giggle, and Eddie feels his cheeks burn. “No, Buckley, it’s cool, you can play Eddie when he LOSES.” You launch yourself from the beach chair and offer your hands out, one crossed over the other. “You on?”

Eddie and Robin each take one of your hands to shake. It’s a deal.

—

Your POV

The boardwalk was once filled with life, you can see that, but has since been discarded like a candy wrapper. Several bulbs on the overhead signs are out, making it spell out A C A D rather than ARCADE. Despite its exterior, the place is bustling with activity. Unsupervised children and bored teens on vacation bounce from machine to machine, yelling to be heard over the cartoonish sounds of claw machines. Further in, you spot the air hockey table in a corner, unoccupied.

“You ready to get your ass kicked, Munson?” You tease, nudging his side with your elbow before taking a spot at one end of the table.

”I think you mean kissed, L/n.” Eddie winks, slotting a quarter into the machine, triggering the bright lights to flash, the canned sound of the game announcer.

You scoff. “Whatever.” You hand the puck to Robin, who’s standing far too still between the two of you, as if she’s decided to referee. Robin drops the puck in the middle, and it starts slowly gliding off to the side while you and Eddie swing your discs wildly. You gain the upper hand, whacking the puck at Eddie’s goal, missing by inches. You groan when it hits the side, now fully in Eddie’s court. He chuckles, swinging hard to send the puck flying toward you, straight into the thin slot. GOAL! The fuzzy speakers blare with exclamation. You take the puck out, placing it in front of you, waiting for Eddie to stop taunting you.

”C’mon, you have to admit that was pretty sick!” Eddie whines, trying to get a rise out of you.

”Are you done?”

”Oh, not even close, sweetheart.”

You bite back a smile, the tips of your ears burning, and hit the puck on a zigzag, gleefully watching as Eddie’s eyes try to keep up. It goes back and forth for a while before you tie it up, hurling trash talk at each other with no malice. A small crowd has even gathered around the table to watch, and you’re not sure if it’s because they’re fans of yours and Eddie’s, or just really invested in the competition.

Finally, you send the puck flying into the opposite goal one more time, winning the game. You celebrate with a cheer, and jokingly chest bump Robin who rolls her eyes when you clench your tit in your hand, cackling.

—

Eddie’s POV

“I’d like a mint chocolate chip shake, extra thick.” You wink, making sure to swing your hips as you walk away from the table with Steve. You’re barely out of earshot when Robin starts flapping her gums. “What the fuck was that?!”

“What was what?”

She flails, gesturing wildly to Eddie, the direction you’ve walked in, the air hockey table. “All that- that flirting. You think I’m stupid?”

Eddie only scoffs, whacking the puck towards her. This game has far less enthusiasm to it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on! You attracted a crowd with how obnoxious you two were being! What happened this morning?”

Eddie stops the puck under his handle. “That’s none of your business!”

“Please, I can get those gory details from Y/n. I’m talking about the important part, the conversation.”

“There wasn’t a conversation! Just having some fun.”

It’s Robin’s turn to freeze, straightening her posture as if it would convince Eddie to take her seriously. “Don’t you dare start this shit again. You need to get your act together. Today. I swear to God if you break their heart again—“

“Robin, what the fuck are you—“

“Let me finish. Please, for the love of all that is holy, unholy, whatever, talk to them. For real. Before we leave. Or I’ll beat your ass myself. They love you so, so much it’s borderline unhealthy. I can’t watch them fall to pieces again because you can’t grow the balls to tell them what you want.”

“Shouldn’t they also be getting this lecture?”

“No! Because they’re letting you set the pace, asshole! You owe it to them, they shouldn’t have to guess what you want. I promise, if you’re honest, they’ll be more than willing to listen to you. Please, Eddie.” Her eyes are soft, and he melts at her pleas.

“Okay. I will.”

“You better.”

“I promise!”

—

Your POV

“So… what the fuck was that?” Steve inserts a quarter into the skeeball machine, the balls clacking together as they roll down.

“What?” You feign ignorance, rolling a ball down the lane. 20 points. You were never great at skeeball. “Do not play stupid with me, L/n! That man loves you.”

“That doesn’t mean he wants more than what we have.” The humor is gone from your tone, and you can feel your throat catch ever so slightly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, Steve, that love isn’t the only factor in a relationship. There are so many things we’re still missing. The trust, the balance. All that stupid bullshit we can’t seem to figure out.” Steve doesn’t respond, he only watches as you half heartedly toss another ball down the lane. “I don’t know if we’d work together anymore. After everything,” You pause, looking for the right words. Of course you want to try, you’d give it all up to try again. He claims he would, too. But there’s a huge, unspecified roadblock preventing both of you from taking that leap. Like a blocked artery, a wedge that won’t budge no matter how hard you both push.

“You’re a chicken shit.” Steve finally deadpans, causing you to whip around to look at him. There’s no hint of joking in his tone, not the tiniest glimmer of it in his eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a goddamn coward! You both are! Constantly making excuses for not even attempting the real thing. You’ll kiss, hold hands, even sleep together before admitting a goddamn thing to yourselves. I can’t believe neither of you have collapsed from exhaustion.” He rolls a ball, sinking it into the top left hole of the lane. Show off

“Maybe it’s not enough. But what’s stopping you from doing what is? From having that uncomfortable discussion?”

You bite your lip, knowing exactly the thing stopping both of you from having that conversation. Steve’s right, you’re fucking cowards. You’re afraid of fucking it up again, of watching him leave, of losing him the same way you did the first time. You have to wonder if it’s worth it, having bits and pieces of him to avoid losing the whole thing.

Steve checks his watch and huffs. “Well, you better figure it out soon, we leave for the airport in an hour.”

—

Eddie’s POV

“Mint chocolate chip, extra thick.” Eddie hands you the styrofoam cup as he sits next to you on the bench, green ice cream already stuck in the straw.

“Did you have some?” You hold the cup out, straw pointed at him.

“I had to make sure they did it right!”

You snort, taking a sip before resting your head on his shoulder. He rests his own on top of your head, closing his eyes when he hears you sigh through your giggles. As much as he knows how right Robin is, he’d still be okay staying like this forever.

“We should probably talk. Y’know, about this morning.” His voice is low, even though there’s no one around to eavesdrop. You lift your head to look at him, and Eddie swears his heart stops at the sight.

“Probably, yeah.” He nods slowly, praying to whoever will listen that he doesn’t fuck this up.

“I meant it. I wanna make that clear. I love you. I never stopped, I don’t think I ever will.” His voice is even, stern.

“So did I.”

He nods. “I know. But-“

“It’s not enough.” You nod, and he feels his heart stutter and crack before you can let him finish. He knew this was coming.

You shake your head, your short hair swinging as you do. “No. It’s not. That doesn’t mean it can’t be the beginning of something, though?” Your voice raises at the end, like you’re asking him the question. He has to stop himself from jumping from his seat. There’s hope in what you’ve said, even if it’s barely a spark. “If you want to try, I guess. If you want to see where it goes.”

Eddie can’t stop himself, he sets his own milkshake aside to cup your warm face in his cold hands, steadying your head. “I will do whatever it takes to try this again, sweetheart. You are still the best thing that’s ever happened to me, the only person I could ever ask for. If you’re willing, if you’re able to try again, to trust that I won’t let you down again, then who am I to refuse that second chance? Who would I be to give that up a second time? I know I should’ve said something sooner, I know I’ve been awful during this whole thing…” He trails off as your smile widens under his palms, and your eyes grow wet with what he hopes are happy tears. “I couldn’t ask for anything more, Y/n. I know I don’t deserve it-“

You shake your head again, despite his grip. “Stop it. Stop saying you don’t deserve another chance, Eddie. I wouldn’t be willing to try again if you hadn’t shown me you’ve changed. I never stopped loving you, I was waiting for the day we could try this again. More than anything, you are all I’ve wanted. Please, be kinder to yourself.” You say it all through squished cheeks, and he feels them warm under his hands. “I didn’t want to ask, because I couldn’t tell if that’s what you wanted. You’re a huge rockstar now, with plenty of bullshit to deal with. This is gonna be hard, I need to know it’ll be a priority.”

“You are my only priority. You are the only thing that matters to me this much. It took me years being a fucking moron to figure that out, but I got there.” His heart is practically breaking his ribcage with how hard it’s pounding. He can barely believe you’re willing to try again, willing to give such a broken man a second chance at true love. It all feels way too good to be true, but he can’t be bothered enough to shut it down. There will be no other shoe this time.

“In that case, Munson, would you do me the honor of being my love again? Strings attached?”

He doesn’t hesitate, even though he’s fucking terrified. “I never stopped.” He moves his hands back to your face, cupping your cheeks gently as he moves closer to you. Your hands mirror his, holding his face in them as his eyes begin to water. Your smile grows as his tears fall, both of you laughing through them like deranged children.

“Then kiss me like you mean it.” And he does, tugging you forward until his lips meet yours, tears commingling as you wrap your arms around his neck, and his move to wrap around your waist. “I love you”s are mumbled between kisses, never fully letting go of each other regardless of how uncomfortable the bench has become.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”

—

next chapter

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