#now im happy and i REALLY like my reflection and i know i look like myself. like who i want to be
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HAIR IS PINK AND SPIKY I SHOULD HAVE DONE THIS MUCH EARLIER NEVER AGAIN NORMAL COLOURED HAIR I AM THRIVING I AM HAPPY I FEEL LIKE MYSELF AND I LIKE WHO I AM THIS IS MEEEE AND IT'S GREATTTTTTT WHOOOOOO
#i didnt even REALISE how much having faded redish blond tips and a somewhat normal passing hairstyle messed me up#like it didnt mess me up exactly it just didnt make me happy#and why would i have hair that doesn't make me happy?#now im happy and i REALLY like my reflection and i know i look like myself. like who i want to be#idk hair is abig thing for me now. mohawk was the best thing i ever did for my mental health#anyway colourful hair supremacy#a biscuit's rambles
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Something profoundly funny about getting snap memories where I adore and dote on my candle tattoo when I look back on it today as one of my worst decisions
#sorry stevie its not personal 😭#just the association of it with self harm bc that is what it was all about to me is terrible#and the fact that its lopsided and the flame is faded so it doesnt even look very good just makes it worse#like it just reminds me of how much i disrespected myself at 16 and 17#i had no love for me at all and at the time i was so happy to rub it in and leave irreversible reminders of my self hatred#and now i dont feel that way but i know that little girl is tucked away inside of me. my little eraserhead baby that sleeps deep in my heart#and i know that all it took to bring that out of me was one really nasty fight with my mom#so even though i've grown a lot around her i dont think she is gone and i dont think she ever will be#like diane in her final episode monologue#i feel her and im not mad at her but i dont recognize myself in her. and i know she would not recognize herself in me#i was so full of pain and anger and i wanted it to last Forever. i never wanted to heal and move on#and be happy. because i felt like if i was then when things fell apart i would feel so betrayed and scorned just like i did when i was 16#and now i dont feel that way but i cant take anything i did back then back. and thats really sad to me now#but i see the snap memories and i see this tattoo and i see the scars and i know that i wanted this extended release pain for myself#i wanted to never be able to let it go and now i cant. and i dont feel happy about it and im not supposed to#and as humbling as it is to remember how ugly and violent and vindictive i can be... its very hard#im sorry that i can be that way because i dont admire any of those qualities in myself at all#omg i cant believe i started this post off with this is so funny im literally crying rn actually thinking about it#i did chuckle when i saw the memory but its not so funny to reflect on
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i have the face of a man and the body of a hairy woman i love being transgender so much
#ive rly been coming to terms w where im at in transition and in life and i love it#ive been on t for a decade now(!!!!!!!!!!!!) with no surgeries and honestly im happy with it#i go back and forth on top surgery all the time#but HONESTLYYYYYY i kinda love my little tiddies#theyre funny and cute#my outward apperance is completely cis tho everyone immediately assumes im a man#and idk how i feel abt that#i want to be known as trans as soon as ppl look at me#i realized i identify more with the lable Trans than any of the lables it can encompass#like no im not a man or a woman or nonbinary im just trans#im on a neverending gender journey i am always in a state of transition#i am CAPITAL T [T R A N S]#i need to start reflecting this in my apperance i know passing is a huge privilage but its just not what i really want im realizing#ill figure it out :-)#i love being transgender <3
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on a night like tonight
wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠
prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"
pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)
warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption
~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx
The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.
Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.
You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.
The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.
"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"
Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.
"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."
"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.
Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?
And did he really return them?
You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.
You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.
~∞~
It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.
You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.
You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.
"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.
"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.
"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.
"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.
He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.
"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.
He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.
"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.
"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.
"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"
"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.
"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.
"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.
"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.
You've always been my favourite, darling.
The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.
Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.
~∞~
The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.
"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.
"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.
"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.
"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.
"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.
"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.
"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.
"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.
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activities to improve your life
(in no way do you have to do these or all of them in order to improve, these ade just little things to do to help you feel good about yourself <3)
- go on walks outside, or just get outside in someway. in the summers my boyfriend and I would walk a couple blocks to get a snowcone. now that's its spring I walk to the gas station near by to pick up energy drink for my boyfriend (spring semester)
- wake up earlier, now this one is important to me because I am a huge morning person and so is everyone in my family. but some people aren't naturally morning people. so dont feel like im saying wake up at 5am. I more mean wake up with enough time to enjoy your morning and look forward to the day, you don't want to rush to get ready
- drink an appropriate amount of water, I personally aim for about 60oz now, which I don't hot everyday, but when I first started trying to drink more water I started out with 20oz because I just wasn't drinking water. so don't push yourself because you'll only hate the water rather than appreciate what it can do for you
- journal every day. I normally don't journal about my day until the next morning as I reflect on the previous day, because I don't want the day to "end" before it's actually over. but I try to write reviews about episodes of the shows i like or take notes over my audiobooks and try to think about why I like/dislike them. I find that this helps me so that whenever I start getting emotionally overwhelmed to slow down and put into words what's wrong rather than just being overwhelmed
- working out to feel good rather than look good. I've had a terrible relationship with my body most of my life and so by working out to feel good i have different goals and schedules i followed than when I was trying to lose weight, and it's helping like my body even if it's not changing how it looks. I try to exercise at least 3 days a week, but if I don't feel good enough to i don't force myself (the walks outside are exercise too, so thats also helping me feel good even if I eat a snowcone immediately afterwards ^^)
- positive affirmations. I really struggle with this one, but I have a widget on my phone that rotates through different ones and im liking the ones that are good and at the end of the week in my journal I wrote them all out.
- look for long lasting happiness over short term happiness. this one is a lot harder i just wanted to add it on the end because sometimes I put off doing something I know will make me happy in the end because of short term gratification. I normally feal with this by letting them merge if I can (so like everything shower tiktoks while I get ready for my shower)
#motivation#aesthetic#clean girl#routine#vanilla girl#photo collection#peachy days#glow up#it girl#that girl
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right people, wrong place — nanami kento.
“And what about us? Was I something you could just walk away from?” The question hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his gaze—regret, maybe—but it vanished just as quickly. “I never wanted to hurt you, you know that.” he said quietly, almost like an admission of guilt. “But this was always going to be the cost.”
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!
WARNING/S: romance, fluff, angst, marriage separation, salvaging the marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, car-fuck, making out, smut, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, hurt/comfort, alcohol, crying, drunk, emotional, pining, happy ending, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of breakdown of a marriage, depiction of alcoholic beverages, depiction of getting drunk, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of sexual tension, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, sorcerer! nanami, non-sorcerer! reader;
WORD COUNT: 7.7k words.
NOTE: finally!!! im putting out this chapter on my birthday which is crazy but i feel like putting it out on my birthday shows how much i really love nanami. i really wondered a lot how to do this because i don't think nanami's the sort of person who would end up hurting his lover/partner like this. but hm, i suppose it works out in the end!!! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this a lot like i did!!! i love you all <3
masterlist
kinktober 2024 - kayu's version
if you want to, tip! <3
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IN YOUR YEARS LIVING, YOU’D NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN. You never thought you would find yourself in this position, but sometimes marriages just don't last. It’s been a while since your husband, Nanami Kento, and you became estranged. His constant absence, wrapped up in his work as a sorcerer, eventually took precedence over your marriage.
At first, you understood, even tried to be patient. But over time, the long hours, missed moments, and growing distance became too much to bear. You found yourself frustrated, feeling as though you were competing with a world you couldn’t fully understand or be a part of.
Slowly, that frustration turned into resentment. Despite your efforts to keep things together, the silence between you grew louder. Eventually, the separation felt inevitable. Now, standing on the other side of it, you reflect on the painful truth: sometimes love isn't enough when life pulls you in different directions.
You sighed, staring at the empty side of the bed where Kento used to sleep. The memories of better days flickered in your mind, but they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else’s life. The silence of your apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of the outside world.
“Did you ever regret it?” you whispered, almost as if speaking to the ghost of your past, hoping for an answer you knew wouldn’t come. “Did you ever think… maybe I was worth staying for?”
You shook your head, frustrated with yourself for even asking the question. It wasn’t fair to him. You knew how much responsibility weighed on Kento's shoulders. Being a sorcerer wasn’t just a job; it was a duty. But sometimes, you wished he would have chosen you, just once, over the weight of the world.
Your minds rushed to those memories again. That night when he left the house. You looked as he packed everything he could carry. His clothes, his books… small pieces of a life you once shared now reduced to what he could fit into a suitcase. The silence between you stretched, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air, almost suffocating.
“Is this really it, then?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had hung in the back of your mind for months, but now, with him standing here, packing the last remnants of your life together, it felt real. Permanent.
Kento paused, his hand resting on one of his neatly folded shirts. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I don’t know.”
“That’s all you can say? After so many years?.....Kento....this is…” you replied, your voice cracking despite your best effort to keep it steady. “Not even a reason?”
His shoulders tensed at your words, but he still didn’t turn around. “If I say something, it would be a fight and then that fight would hurt you and I again. Do you really want that?”
“No, I don’t.” you shot back, the frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface. “But maybe it should. Because then I would know if it actually mattered. Because it didn’t feel like it mattered, Kento. It felt like I was always second place to your work, to the missions, to everything else.”
He finally turned to face you, his expression unreadable but the exhaustion in his eyes undeniable. “I never wanted it to be like this. But you knew what I was from the beginning. Being a sorcerer… it’s not something you can just walk away from.”
“And what about us? Was I something you could just walk away from?”
The question hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his gaze—regret, maybe—but it vanished just as quickly.
“I never wanted to hurt you, you know that.” he said quietly, almost like an admission of guilt. “But this was always going to be the cost.”
You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh even to your own ears. “So that’s it? We were just collateral damage to your sense of duty?”
Kento didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the suitcase with a soft click, the finality of it settling like a stone in your chest. “I thought I could do both. I thought I could be there for you and still do what needed to be done. But I was wrong.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, waiting for something more—an apology, a plea, anything. But all you got was that same calm, distant resolve that had driven you apart in the first place.
He picked up the suitcase, his fingers tightening around the handle. “Goodbye.”
And just like that, he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, and the emptiness of the apartment swallowed you whole. You stood there, staring at the spot where he had been, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. It was over.
But somehow, it still didn’t feel like closure.
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EVERYTHING THAT CAME AFTER WAS HARD. In the days that followed, the silence in your apartment became both a comfort and a curse. It was quiet—almost too quiet—but for the first time in what felt like forever, the suffocating weight of uncertainty was gone.
Kento was gone, too. But in a way, that absence, painful as it was, felt like a step toward something else. Healing, maybe. And it didn’t help, how empty the rooms were. Half of his belongings were gone and packed up when you weren’t in the apartment.
It was slow at first. You’d wake up some mornings expecting him to be there, just a shadow of his presence lingering in the air. You’d make coffee for two out of habit, only to pour the second cup down the sink. Little reminders of him still clung to the edges of your life, and each one was like a small tug at the thread of your resolve.
But as the weeks turned into months, you started to piece yourself back together. You learned how to be alone without feeling lonely, how to fill the spaces he left behind with your own life. You started to find joy in the little things again—quiet mornings with a book, walks in the park, laughing with friends who had long been neglected while you tried to hold onto something that was already slipping away.
Still, there were moments, late at night when the world went still, that the ache of missing him crept back in. It was like a dull, persistent pain—manageable, but never quite gone. You’d find yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing, if he was thinking of you, too. If he ever would come back and say that he regrets walking away.
Because the truth was, you still loved him. Deeply. And that was the hardest part. No matter how much you tried to move forward, to heal, the love you had for Nanami Kento never fully disappeared. It lingered, bittersweet and aching, tucked into the corners of your heart.
Some nights, you found yourself replaying those last moments with him—the way he stood in the doorway, his back turned to you, the finality of his goodbye. You couldn’t help but wonder if things could have been different. If you had fought harder, if he had tried just a little more. But those thoughts always led to the same conclusion: no matter how much you loved him, love wasn’t enough to fix what had broken between you.
And yet, despite everything, there was still a part of you that wanted him back. It was foolish, you knew that. But the heart rarely listens to reason. You missed the way he made you feel safe, even when everything else in your world felt uncertain. You missed the way he’d brush his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while reading or the quiet moments where words weren’t needed because you both just… understood.
But loving him came with a cost, one you couldn’t ignore. You knew that being with him meant sharing him with a world that constantly demanded more of him than you could ever give. It meant always being second place, always waiting for him to come home, always wondering if this time would be the last.
You weren’t sure if you could live like that again.
It was hard, knowing that despite how much better you were feeling, the part of you that still longed for him wasn’t ready to let go. You tried to distract yourself—work, hobbies, anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of something that reminded you of him—a certain tie in a shop window, a scent in the air—and the pang of longing would hit you all over again.
One evening, after a particularly long day, you found yourself standing at the edge of your balcony, staring out at the sunset. The sky was painted in hues of gold and pink, the world so quiet and still that it almost felt like a dream. For a brief moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like if he were here beside you. If, somehow, you could make it work. If the love you had was enough to outweigh everything else.
But as the colors faded and dusk settled in, you realized something—wanting him, loving him, would always be part of you. But so would the pain. And maybe, just maybe, the best thing you could do was let both of those things exist without trying to fix them. To let the love you still had for him be a memory, something you carried with you but didn’t let define you anymore.
It was hard. But you were learning that sometimes, healing isn’t about forgetting the past. It’s about accepting it and finding a way to move forward anyway. Even if part of you will always wish things had been different.
You sighed, staring at the empty side of the bed where Nanami used to sleep. The memories of better days flickered in your mind, but they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else’s life. The silence of your apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of the outside world.
“Did you ever regret it?” you whispered, almost as if speaking to the ghost of your past, hoping for an answer you knew wouldn’t come. “Did you ever think… maybe I was worth staying for?”
You shook your head, frustrated with yourself for even asking the question. It wasn’t fair to him. You knew how much responsibility weighed on Nanami's shoulders. Being a sorcerer wasn’t just a job; it was a duty. But sometimes, you wished he would have chosen you, just once, over the weight of the world.
The doorbell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. For a moment, your heart raced—an absurd part of you hoped it was him. But you quickly brushed the thought aside. That chapter was closed. Or so you tried to convince yourself.
When you opened the door, there he stood—Nanami Kento.
“I came to pick up the rest of my things.” he said, his voice low and steady, as if the weight of the words didn't matter. But they did. Every syllable felt like a punch to your chest.
You nodded, stepping aside to let him in, though the sight of him in the apartment again felt like a knife twisting in an old wound. He walked past you without another word, heading to what used to be your shared bedroom. It was strange—after all the time that had passed, he still moved like he belonged here, like nothing had changed. But everything had.
You followed him, your footsteps quiet as you watched him start gathering his things. His clothes, his books… small pieces of a life you once shared now reduced to what he could fit into a suitcase. The silence between you stretched, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air, almost suffocating.
“This is it, huh?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had hung in the back of your mind for months, but now, with him standing here, packing the last remnants of your life together, it felt real. Permanent. “Is….is this what’s left?”
Kento paused, his hand resting on one of his neatly folded shirts. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Anything, everything.” you replied, your voice cracking despite your best effort to keep it steady. “I just want to know if any of it ever mattered to you.”
His shoulders tensed at your words, but he still didn’t turn around. “You know it did. You matter to me. More than you know.”
“Did I?” you shot back, the frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface. “Because why have I never felt it? When will I feel it?”
He finally turned to face you, his expression unreadable but the exhaustion in his eyes undeniable. “I showed you everything I could. I gave you everything I could. Was that never going to be enough for you?”
“And what about us? Was I something you could just walk away from?”
The question hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his gaze—regret, maybe—but it vanished just as quickly.Nanami didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the box with a soft touch, the finality of it settling like a stone in your chest.
“I thought I could do both. I thought I could be there for you and still do what needed to be done. But I was wrong.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, waiting for something more—an apology, a plea, anything. But all you got was that same calm, distant resolve that had driven you apart in the first place.
He picked up the rest of his belongings, his fingers tightening around the handle. “I have to go.”
And just like that, he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, and the emptiness of the apartment swallowed you whole. You stood there, staring at the spot where he had been, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. It was over.
But somehow, it still didn’t feel like closure.
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YOU DIDN’T EAT MUCH IN THE PAST FEW DAYS. But that was to be expected. You couldn’t eat in the place where you had so many memories. Yet you were feeling unwell as time went on and so slowly, gently, patiently — you tried to be good to yourself. Tried to be understanding. Going through separation, this suffering, it was never going to be easy.
The silence in your apartment became both a comfort and a curse. It was quiet—almost too quiet—but for the first time in what felt like forever, the suffocating weight of uncertainty was gone.
The emptiness felt different now. It wasn't just about loss or absence; it was about space—space to breathe, to think, to feel without the constant dread lurking in every corner. Still, the quiet held an echo of everything you had left behind, and that made moving forward all the more difficult.
But as the weeks turned into months, you started to piece yourself back together. You learned how to be alone without feeling lonely, how to fill the spaces he left behind with your own life.
You started to find joy in the little things again—quiet mornings with a book, walks in the park, laughing with friends who had long been neglected while you tried to hold onto something that was already slipping away.
Still, there were moments, late at night when the world went still and you’re watching television alone by yourself — you could feel that the ache of missing him crept back in.
It was like a dull, persistent pain—manageable, but never quite gone. You’d find yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing, if he was thinking of you, too. If he ever regretted walking away. Or if he missed you just as much as you did.
Because the truth was, you still loved him. Deeply. And that was the hardest part. No matter how much you tried to move forward, to heal, the love you had for Nanami Kento never fully disappeared. It lingered, bittersweet and aching, tucked into the corners of your heart. And perhaps, maybe it will always be like this.
But you had to move on. Life wasn’t going to wait for you to get better, to be better. It demanded that you keep going, even when you weren’t sure how to, even when the ghost of what you had still weighed heavy on your soul.
So, you kept going, step by step. Some days were easier than others, filled with the distractions of work, the warmth of sunlight on your skin, and conversations that pulled you out of your own head. Other days were harder—when memories of him resurfaced without warning, when a familiar scent or an old song hit you with the force of a tidal wave, threatening to drown you in nostalgia.
But you had learned by now how to weather those moments. You’d remind yourself that healing wasn’t linear, that some days you would falter, and that was okay. You had to let yourself feel the sadness, the longing, without letting it consume you.
And in time, you began to see the future more clearly, not just as a continuation of what you lost but as something entirely new. You began to make plans for yourself, not the version of you that existed with him but the person you were becoming on your own. You started to imagine new possibilities—new experiences, new places, and maybe even, eventually, new love.
But for now, it was enough to simply live. To wake up each morning with the quiet acceptance that the pain would fade, slowly, until it was just another part of you, like a scar that healed over time. And though Nanami Kento would always hold a piece of your heart, you knew that piece was no longer all you had. There was more to you, more to your life, and you would find it, one day at a time.
And maybe, tonight was just one of those nights you didn’t plan. Tonight was one more night where you tried to forget. It was just a spontaneous meeting with the friends you made because of your estranged husband.
In a way, you think that Shoko and Utahime, were the only people who had really been there for you throughout this entire mess. You met up at a quiet bar tucked away in a corner of the city, a place that felt far removed from the chaos of sorcery and everything that came with it.
Shoko sat across from you, her usual laid-back demeanor a source of steady comfort, while Utahime leaned in, her voice soft and warm, coaxing you into laughter with her lighthearted banter. The night had started out innocent enough—a few drinks, some stories, and shared frustrations. But as the alcohol flowed, so did your emotions.
“Honestly.” you groaned, swirling your drink before downing it, “I don’t even know what I miss more—him, or the idea of what we could’ve been if his work didn’t always come first.”
Shoko raised her glass, giving you a sympathetic smile. “It’s never easy, is it? Being with someone like him. The duty comes first. Always.”
Utahime nodded, her eyes full of understanding. “But that doesn’t make what you feel any less valid. You loved him. That doesn’t just disappear.”
The alcohol in your system made you bolder, more honest than you’d been in a while. You leaned forward, placing your elbows on the table, and slurred slightly, “It’s not fair, you know? I tried, I really did. But how long am I supposed to wait? How many nights am I supposed to spend alone, wondering if he’s even coming back?”
Shoko reached across the table and squeezed your hand gently. “You’re not supposed to wait forever. You deserve more than that.”
But instead of finding solace in her words, you found yourself feeling more emotional, the weight of everything you’d been holding back finally cracking open under the influence of too much alcohol. A tear slipped down your cheek, and before you could stop it, you were sobbing into your hands, overwhelmed by a mix of heartache and frustration.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry!” Utahime said softly, sliding into the seat beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re doing great. This is just… part of the process.”
Shoko, usually so calm and collected, looked a little more concerned than usual. “Okay, I think it’s time to slow down on the drinks, girlie.” she said, gently pulling your glass away from you.
But you were too far gone to care. The mix of pain, regret, and alcohol had you in a place where you didn’t want to think anymore—you just wanted to feel something, anything other than the ache of missing him.
You let out a half-laugh, half-sob and raised your hands in the air dramatically. “I’m a mess! A total mess! And you know what? I miss him. I still miss him even after everything!”
Utahime tried to keep you grounded, but your emotions were all over the place. “We know. We get it. Just breathe.”
Shoko sighed, reaching for her phone. “I think we might need backup here.”
You were too busy giggling uncontrollably to notice her dialing a number, the alcohol buzzing in your veins, making you feel invincible, heartbroken, and foolish all at once.
“I’m calling Nanami.” Shoko said, her voice firm as she stepped away to speak quietly into the phone.
The name hit you like a punch in the chest, and suddenly, the laughter was gone, replaced by a pit of regret. “Wait… Shoko, no. Don’t… don’t call him.” you mumbled, slumping against the table.
But it was too late.
Half an hour later, as the bar started to empty out and the world around you became a blurry haze, you felt a familiar presence. Nanami Kento stood at the entrance, his expression unreadable, though his posture was tense, like he wasn’t sure what to expect. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on you—wild-eyed and completely drunk, your face flushed from crying and too many drinks.
Shoko and Utahime exchanged a glance as Nanami walked over to the table. “She… might’ve had a bit too much tonight, you know?” Utahime said sheepishly, standing up to give him space.
Nanami didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at you—really looked at you, like he was seeing you for the first time in months. You could see the subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, even if his face remained calm, composed.
You, on the other hand, were a mess. “Kento….” you slurred, your voice thick with emotion. “Why did you come?”
He crouched down beside you, his voice low but steady. “Shoko called me.”
You frowned, trying to process that. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
For a moment, you both just stared at each other, the air between you heavy with everything left unsaid. You wanted to say so many things—to tell him how much you missed him, how much it hurt to love him, but your thoughts were too muddled, and the alcohol made everything feel distant and surreal.
Nanami sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Let’s get you home.”
Too tired and drunk to argue, you leaned into his touch, letting him guide you out of the bar. As he helped you into the passenger seat of his car, you felt a pang of sadness wash over you. Even in this state, the warmth of his presence made you remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place.
But as the car started and the city lights blurred by, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you’d ever be to him now—a fleeting responsibility, a problem to fix.
Through heavy-lidded eyes, you glanced over at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you still care, Kento?”
For the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Of course I care.” he said quietly, almost like it hurt to admit it. “I always have….I always will.”
But as the darkness of the night pulled you under, you couldn’t help but think that maybe caring just wasn’t enough.
The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine and the distant noise of the city filling the silence between you and Nanami. You leaned your head against the window, feeling the cool glass against your flushed skin, the alcohol still buzzing faintly in your veins. Everything felt muted, distant, as if you were floating just outside yourself, watching the scene unfold from afar.
Nanami’s presence was steady, calm as always, but there was something different about it tonight—something almost tender in the way he glanced over at you every few moments, checking to see if you were okay. He was a man of few words, but the weight of everything left unsaid between you felt heavy in the small space of the car.
You closed your eyes, letting the rhythmic motion of the car lull you into a state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Your thoughts drifted in and out, a hazy mix of memories and half-formed feelings. The pain of your separation, the love you still held for him, the impossible wish that things could’ve been different.
“Do you need anything?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, something restrained.
You shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts through the alcohol fog, but the room spun, and you could feel the tears welling up again, unbidden and unwelcome. The frustration, the love, the hurt—all of it crashed over you at once, too heavy to hold in any longer.
“I miss you, Kento.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I just…..I don’t want to miss you anymore.”
He didn’t respond right away, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid of what you might see in his eyes. Afraid of the truth you already knew—that no matter how much you wanted him, how much you loved him, some things were just too broken to fix. Your face contorted in distress as you felt like you were going to hurl.
Kento stopped the car on a quiet side of the road and took a breath. He moved towards your side of the vehicle. He opened the door and brushed his hands on your back as though to soothe you. But nothing came out of you. Instead, you were just hiccupping. Tears were falling down your face by this point, as your eyes met his.
Nanami Kento sighed softly, kneeling down in front of you. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek with the back of his hand, his touch gentle, hesitant. “You shouldn’t have to feel like this about me, about everything.” he murmured, his voice low, filled with regret. “You shouldn’t let this hurt you. Not anymore—”
“But you did.” you cut him off, your voice cracking. “Every time you left, every time you put your work first… it felt like I didn’t matter.”
He bowed his head, the weight of your words sinking into him. “I know.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands trembling as you clutched the fabric of the couch beneath you. “I loved you, Kento. I still love you. But I don’t know if I can keep doing this… if I can keep feeling like I’m waiting for something that will never come.”
He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, and for the first time in a long while, you saw something break in his calm façade. “I never wanted you to wait. But I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know….I didn’t know how to stop saving people.”
The vulnerability in his voice, the raw honesty, made your heart ache even more. You could see it now—his struggle, his conflict between the duty he felt as a sorcerer and the love he had for you. But that didn’t change the fact that you had spent so long feeling alone, abandoned in a relationship that demanded more from you than you could give.
“Why did you come tonight?” you asked, your voice shaky, desperate for answers. “Why didn’t you just leave me there?”
Nanami was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Because I couldn’t. No matter how much I tell myself it’s better for you if I stay away… I can’t stop caring about you. Nor could I just….Nor could I just leave you like that. You don’t need to be alone, not like this.”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. It was the truth you had always known, deep down—that he loved you, that he cared. But caring wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between the life he led and the one you needed. And that was the most painful part.
“I don’t know how to stop loving you.” you admitted, tears streaming down your face now, unrestrained. “But I also don’t know how to keep living like this. I don’t want to keep living like this.”
Nanami looked at you then, his expression conflicted, torn between his duty and the love he had for you. “I wish I could give you more. I wish I could be what you need.”
His honesty only made the hurt deeper, and you choked back a sob, turning your face away from him. “I wish that too, Kento. But wishing doesn’t make it real.”
For a long moment, neither of you said anything, the silence heavy and suffocating. Nanami stood, his movements slow, deliberate. He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.
“If you ever need me.” he said quietly, his back to you, “I’ll be there. Always. No matter what. I…I’m telling you the truth.”
His voice was low, a smooth, steady rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The way his fingers touched your skin, soft yet firm, made your breath catch in your throat. You hated how even now, after everything, he still had this effect on you. Your body, your heart—they responded to him instinctively, as if drawn to him by some invisible force you couldn’t control.
Your eyes met his, those deep, unwavering eyes that had always been so hard to read. Dark, focused, filled with an intensity that both excited and terrified you. He tilted his head slightly, waiting for your answer, his thumb brushing lightly against your lower lip. The heat between you was palpable, electric, pulling you closer despite the distance you had tried so hard to create between your lives.
But it wasn’t just lust. It was the ache of wanting something you knew you could never fully have.
“I—” You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper as you fought to find the words. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
It was the truth. You were caught between desire and heartbreak, between the pull of your body and the ache in your chest.
Nanami’s gaze softened slightly, though his hand remained firm against your chin. “You can always tell me. Even if you don’t know, I’m here to listen.”
His lips were inches from yours now, and your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your breath hitched, and you felt the throbbing in your core intensify, the need rising within you. But it wasn’t just physical—it was the need to feel close to him again, to bridge the distance between you, if only for a moment.
His thumb grazed your lip again, this time slower, more deliberate. “Tell me what you need.” he whispered, his voice like silk, coaxing you to let go of everything you were holding back.
Your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes fluttered shut for just a second, your resolve slipping away. You wanted him—needed him—but the weight of everything between you still clung to the edges of your mind.
“I want…” you began, your voice trembling as you opened your eyes to meet him once more. “I want you. But I don't want you.”
There it was. The painful truth, laid bare between you.
Nanami’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or maybe understanding. He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath warm against your skin.
“I know.” he said softly. “And I’m sorry.”
But even as he apologized, his hand slid down from your chin to the curve of your neck, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path that sent waves of heat coursing through your body. You inhaled sharply, your resolve crumbling further with every second that passed.
He always knew how to touch you, how to make you forget the pain, the doubts, the distance. It was intoxicating, the way he could pull you in without even trying, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but lean into it. Into him.
His lips hovered over yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, but he didn’t close the gap. He never did—he always waited for you to make the choice, to cross that line. He gave you control, even when it felt like you had none.
“What do you want?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a breath as his hand settled at the base of your neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin there.
You could feel the tension coiling in your body, the way your heart raced, the way every nerve seemed to be on fire. You wanted to push him away, to tell him that this wasn’t right, that you couldn’t keep doing this. But the pull of him was too strong, and your body betrayed you.
“I want…...” The words caught in your throat, your breath shaky, your lips barely an inch from his. “I want you to make me forget.”
And in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the pain, not the past, not the uncertainty of what the future held. All that mattered was the feel of his hand on your skin, the way his eyes never left yours, the way his presence grounded you and made you feel alive all at once.
Nanami’s lips finally brushed against yours, a soft, tentative kiss that sent a shock of electricity through your body. You responded instinctively, pressing into him, the taste of him familiar and yet still enough to set your senses ablaze.
His other hand slid down your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. You moaned softly into his mouth, your body melting against him, your mind blissfully empty of everything except him.
For just this moment, you let yourself forget. Forget the hurt, the separation, the longing that had been eating at you for months. Right now, all that existed was the heat between you, the way his hands moved over your body, the way his lips claimed yours with a tenderness that both healed and hurt.
And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself fall into the moment, into him, knowing that tomorrow would bring all the same questions and heartache. But for tonight, you let yourself be with him, no matter how fleeting it might be.
The kiss lingered, both tender and desperate, a blend of longing and unresolved emotions that seemed to pulse between you. Nanami’s hands roamed your body with a careful intensity, as if he were trying to memorize every curve, every shiver that ran through you. His touch was both familiar and achingly new, a reminder of what you once had and what you had been missing.
You clung to him, your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer as if you could erase the months of separation with just this physical connection. Every touch, every caress felt like a balm to the wound that had been left open for so long.
But even as the moment enveloped you, reality kept its sharp edge. Every kiss, every touch was a reminder of the distance that had come between you, the reasons you’d tried so hard to move on. The passion that ignited between you was a bitter-sweet symphony, playing a melody of both desire and regret.
Nanami broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. He looked into your eyes with a mixture of yearning and sadness, the weight of everything unsaid pressing heavily between you.
“I’m so sorry.” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “For everything.”
You could only nod, your throat tight, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. “I know.” you managed to say, your voice trembling. “I know.”
He cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had silently fallen. “You mean everything to me, you know?” he said softly, his gaze unwavering. “But I know I can’t just come back and expect everything to be okay.”
You nodded again, tears blurring your vision as you tried to process the complexity of the moment. The feelings between you were still raw, unhealed, and the reality of your situation pressed down hard on both of you. You wanted to hold onto him, to keep him close, but the pain of the past and the uncertainty of the future loomed large.
Kento's massivehands slowly slid from your face to your shoulders, his touch grounding and reassuring. “We can’t go back to how we were.” he said softly, a note of resignation in his voice. “I can’t promise you that everything will be perfect.”
You took a shaky breath, trying to find your voice amidst the whirlwind of emotions. “I don’t expect perfection,” you said, your voice cracking. “I just… I just want to know that you still care, that there’s still something left between us.”
He looked at you with a deep sadness in his eyes, as if he were trying to convey all the things he couldn’t put into words. “I care,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you know. But we both need to heal, to figure out what’s next. I can’t keep coming and going, leaving you with more pain.”
You swallowed hard, trying to reconcile his words with the longing you still felt. “What happens now?” you asked softly, feeling the weight of the question hanging in the air.
Nanami sighed, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “I don’t know.” he admitted.
“Me neither.” You whisper to him as your eyes echoed to him and narrowed. “But I want you to love me. Tonight. Right now.”
“But—”
You kissed him, hungry and passionate. You pull at his jaw, wanting him closer than ever before. You want him near. You want him enveloping you. As though an embrace that would lock you away in his warmth for the rest of your lives. It was as though the fire of young love reawakened after a long hibernation. And you want more than anything this spring, this warmth of spring. His love.
Kento hesitates for a moment, his gaze heavy with concern and desire, before he finally whispers, "Are you sure?"
You nod, breathless, your hands trembling as you reach for him. "I'm sure, Kento. I want you… I've always wanted you."
His resolve falters, and he leans forward, capturing your lips again with a fervor that sends a jolt of electricity through your body. His hands slide over your back, pulling you closer, and you feel the heat of his body pressing against you. He deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips, coaxing you open to taste him, to feel him.
When he finally breaks the kiss, you're both panting, your breaths mingling in the confined space of the car. There's a moment where neither of you speaks, just staring at each other, the weight of your shared desire hanging in the air.
Kento's hand moves between your legs, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your clothes, and you shiver at the contact. He’s gentle at first, almost hesitant, but when he sees the way your body responds, a low growl escapes his throat. He’s lost in the moment, his mouth descending to taste you, his tongue working deftly to unravel every ounce of pleasure he can from you.
You gasp, your back arching against the seat as his tongue dances over your most sensitive parts, his spit mixing with your own arousal. His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you like a man starved, each stroke and flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge.
When you finally break, a cry tearing from your throat, he doesn’t hesitate. He lifts you easily, pulling you onto his lap, his lips finding yours again in a messy, desperate kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, the tang of your desire mingling with his own.
He fumbles with his pants, freeing himself from the constraints, and you feel the heat of him, hard and ready, pressing against you. Your eyes meet, and for a moment, there’s a silent understanding — a shared want that transcends words.
With a quiet groan, he grips your hips, guiding you over him, his breath catching as he finally pushes inside. You both gasp, a moan escaping your lips as he fills you completely, your bodies moving in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing. He clings to you, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, and you cling back just as fiercely, not wanting this moment to end.
“I won't stop anymore." he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear, and you know he means it — neither of you want to stop.
Kento’s words hang heavy in the air, igniting something primal within you. You shift your hips, pressing down harder, taking him deeper, and a guttural sound escapes his lips, his hands digging into your waist as if he’s afraid you might disappear.
He starts moving, thrusting up into you with a roughness that takes your breath away. You hold onto his shoulders for balance, your nails digging into his skin, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body.
You couldn't help but groan over and over with every sensual movement, the windows fogging up as the air grows thick with your mingled breaths and moans.
Kento’s mouth is everywhere — on your neck, your collarbone, your breasts. His lips are hot, leaving trails of fire across your skin. He sucks and nips, marking you as his.
And it makes you gasp, makes you arch closer, needing more, craving everything he can give you. Your body moves on instinct, rolling your hips against him, each motion driving him deeper until you feel like you can’t take it anymore.
“More, more….Oh—” you whisper, a plea escaping your lips. He groans in response, tightening his grip on you, his hips slamming into yours with a desperate rhythm.
He shifts, one hand sliding down between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub. He circles it, presses down, and you cry out, your body clenching around him as the sensations intensify, as every nerve feels like it's on fire.
The sound of skin against skin fills the car, mingling with the soft creak of leather and the panting breaths escaping both of you.
Kento’s pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent. “God, you feel so good.” he murmurs, his voice ragged, almost broken.
He leans in, his forehead pressing against yours, his eyes searching yours for something — maybe reassurance, maybe something deeper.
"Tell me you want this." he breathes, his thumb circling faster.
“I want it,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “I want you, Kento… don't stop, please…”
That seems to be all he needs. He growls low in his throat, his grip tightening as he thrusts into you with renewed fervor, each movement harder, deeper, pushing you both to the edge of oblivion. Your hands clutch his hair, pulling him closer as you feel the coil tightening in your belly, threatening to snap.
He shifts again, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you, and you scream, the sound raw and needy, your body trembling. You can feel the heat pooling, feel the tension building to an unbearable point.
He leans back slightly, watching you with hooded eyes, and the sight of him — pupils blown wide, lips parted, sweat slicking his skin — sends a new wave of desire crashing through you.
“Come for me, baby.” he commands, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Let me feel you.”
The words push you over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you shatter, pleasure ripping through you like a tidal wave. Kento groans, feeling you clench around him, and he thrusts a few more times before he’s there too, his own release surging through him with a low, guttural sound.
You collapse against him, both of you panting, bodies trembling and slick with sweat. For a moment, you just stay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling the aftershocks of what you’ve just shared. He strokes your back gently, his breath still uneven, his heart pounding against yours.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from your face.
You smile, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. "More than okay, baby." you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, tasting the salt of your shared exertion on his lips. "I don't want this to end.”
“I missed you.” He whispered lowly as he pressed a kiss on your palm. “More than you ever could know.”
You smiled at him. “Me too, my love.”
“I want to come home….and make things right.” Your husband tells you, his eyes tortured by desperation. “I want to make it up to you.”
“I know.” You nodded at him, leaning forward and kissing his chin. “Just come home. We’ll figure it out….like we always do.”
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∿ DEVOTED TO YOU ethan landry
— summary: ethan helps you relieve some tension
warnings smut, fingering, pet names, dom!ethan, sub!reader, innocent reader, implications of murder, lmk if i missed anything 1,215 words
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𐙚 mdni!! ↓↓ 𐙚༘⋆ೀೀ
YOU’VE BEEN GRUMPY ALL DAY unsure of the reason but pondering the rush that filled your blood whenever you kissed your boyfriend, ethan, puzzled by this new different sort of heat that you've been feeling lately, your panties have been a little wetter than normal when you'd come home, you thought it was some kind of illness.
ethan on the other hand was far from innocent, he knew exactly what you were feeling. he liked having you as his little pet, after all, he looked huge beside you, making his desire of being inside you way more intense. you had very serious attachment issues, having to be close to him at all times to be fully fulfilled and happy. although he tried to use that as an advantage, you were not very fond to touch him sexually, whenever he'd take a step further in you would just push his hand away or make up an excuse, maybe it had to do with what you've been through, which, you never told ethan. it also didn't help that he looked giant beside you, he could easily crush you whole with his hand if he really wanted to.
although you were both happy with the relationship, ethan wanted to take a step further, he wanted to feel you, your body, but he never did, afraid it would crush your fragile melancholy. what you didn't know at the time was that his big hands would help cure your little "illness".
"alright, lets go home" he said taking you by the waist after you've given a bit of an attitude to mindy that was not very usual of you. "why" you whined in his arms not pulling him away just questioning his movements "baby come on" you gave in, following him to the door of mindy's apartment. the walk home was rather unusual. when a girl gave you a disgusted glance at you snapped "you look like a whore in that outfit" you yelled, the girl looked even more disgusted and a bit confused "yeah and your boobs look awfu- " your phrase got cut short when your boyfriend picked you up and put you over his shoulders, a thing that happened more often than you would think. "what is up with your attitude recently?" he questioned his sweet and fragile girlfriend that had recently developed a strange habit of taking back.
you were now sitting on ethan's lap reflecting about what just happened. he would never admit it but your usual straddle of his lap would always leave him rock hard, at first he would just try to hide it but after seeing that you were rather naive he never really hid it anymore. "are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he questioned after a long minute of silence "its just embarrassing" "why would it be embarrassing baby you can tell me everything" you sighed "its just, i've been feeling hot lately, specially when i see you or when you kiss me and when i get home and go to the bathroom im all wet down there" you started to sob in ethan's shoulder convinced that you were sick. ethan on the other hand had a huge smirk on his face, who would've thought that his ego would go up so fast in less than 5 minutes?
"where does it hurt baby?" "here?" he asked putting a hand on your stomach "lower" he lowered his hand playing with the waistband of your shorts "can i take this off?" you nod. that action reveals the sight of your glistening pussy, something he had never seen before but certainly fantasized about it. you unexpectedly take his hand and place it right on top of your clit, you throw your head back and moan at the slight touch. it was at that moment that ethan realized you had never been touched that that was probably the reason why you've always rejected him, rejected his touch. "lets go to my room" he said taking your hand and leading you to your room. he closed the door "do you wanna learn how to relieve this feeling baby? i can teach you" your legs trembled as you eagerly nodded you both sat in front of your mirror you infront of him. "open your legs baby" he whispered in your ear sending you shivers "theres a lot of ways to feel good, you can do it like this" he rubbed your clit fastly. you throwed your head back once again, "you can do this too" he put two fingers in, pumping them up and down "ugh" you moaned already cumming on his fingers releasing a week worth of a horny feeling. "do you want to learn more?" you nod eagerly.
and there you were watching him layed down on the bed with his glistening cock sprung out. "it wont fit ethan" you said concernedly examining his length "come on you havent even tried, you'll feel much better baby" he gestured you to come, you crawled on top of him and aligned his dick with your wet entrance. "just sit on it" and so you did. "e-etha-nn" you moaned the most pornographic sound you've ever heard "its too big, i cant do it" you only had his tip in, but you already felt so full "thats just the tip baby you're not even halfway" you sighed sinking down completely “there you go” he smiled “my pretty girl took all my cock huh?” you nodded. it was a burning pain at first, after all, practically half of your body was full of his dick. you layed down on his chest hugging him of exhaustion “you gotta move baby” he whispered in your ear.
you started to bounce up and down his dick, loud moans escaping from your mouth each time you made a movement, even the slightest one. you came on his dick in less than 5 minutes and ethan was loving it. he was loving the sight of you cockdrunk milking his dick, gushing out your pussy juices uncontrollably. he quickly switched positions, him being on top of you, he started to move his hips fastly “ethan!” you moaned loudly cumming for the second time of the night, only this time you didn’t stop, still gushing out cum. “im gonna cum baby” he said pulling out and releasing himself on your tits. he layed down beside you breathing heavily and hugged you “so how was it?” he was out of breath “amazing, can we do it again soon?” “of course” he got up and dressed “i love you okay but i gotta go, ill see you tomorrow” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and left
and now you were alone and missing your boyfriend, so you called him “babe?” you said “whats up baby?” he was breathing heavily “i miss you” your eyes started tearing up “remember that teddy bear i gave you? hold on to it, i just gotta do some important stuff here but once im finished i’ll come see you, i love you, see you soon” and with that he finished the call, sure you heard some screaming in the back and he was breathing heavily but ethan couldn’t even hurt a fly, he could never be a killer, right?
- @dumbslvtforethan on tumblr
a/n: heres the request for this one
#ethan landry#ethan landry smut#horror#scream#loren campbell#scream iv#ethan landry smut non con#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry fanfiction#ghostface ethan#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry fluff
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Heyyyy, Idk if you were planning on it or not but could you do a part 2 of the seven minutes in heaven thing you wrote about Felix?
⋆˚࿔ seven minutes in heaven 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ (pt. 2)
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
lee felix x fem!reader
wc: 2.5k
warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, first date, piv, unprotected sex (whats protection atp), rough sex, a lot of overstim (literally 3 times in a row.), oral (f. rec), rip reader, she won't be able to move for days, (lmk if i missed any)
a/n: thank you guys for liking it!! and thank you @jadienoop for suggesting it in my inbox <3 sorry if it was later than you wanted it to be *sniff sniff*, i didn't expect people to actually want one...
anyways guys im getting a little dry on suggestions, so please feel free to leave some for me! idc if you spam-suggest me with things i would actually prefer that a lot
I HOPE YOU ENJOY, i have a taglist if u want to be added!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"So, where are you taking me on our date, Lixie?" You teased as the two of you made your way through the streets.
He gave you a sweet smile and shook his head. "It's a secret."
"Come on, give me a hint," you pleaded, pouting.
"Nope," he said, popping the 'p'.
"Ugh, you're no fun," you grumbled, playfully hitting his arm.
He chuckled and continued leading you through the streets, his hand clasped around yours.
After a few more minutes of walking, he stopped in front of a small restaurant.
"We're here," he announced, a smile on his face.
You looked at him shocked, "I didn't know you meant now, I'm not even prepared properly... my makeup," you pouted, looking up at him.
"You're beautiful, and it's just dinner." He said with a fond smile, squeezing your hand gently.
You couldn't help but smile, his compliment making your heart flutter.
"Now come on, let's go," he said, leading you inside.
The restaurant was small and cozy, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. There were only a few other couples there, and the atmosphere was romantic.
You were surprised that Felix had brought you here. It isn't something you'd expect for a first date.
Felix led you to a table and pulled out your chair, helping you sit down. You couldn't help but smile at his gentlemanly behavior.
"You know, this feels weird." You admitted, giving him a shy smile.
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. I've hung out with you thousands of times, and now we're doing it again... but it's different."
"Different how?" He asked, looking at you curiously.
"Like, we're on a date. And I don't know how to act." You admitted.
He laughed softly and reached over, taking your hand in his.
"You don't have to act any differently. We're just hanging out, like always."
"But we're on a date, you were my best friend a few hours ago," you repeated.
"Yeah, but I've never called you my girlfriend, have I?" He asked, his voice soft.
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and your stomach fluttered at his words.
Girlfriend.
You were his girlfriend now, he was yours, and you were his.
"You're my boyfriend," you tested the words, your voice in a whisper, almost like a realization.
He blushed, and he had the most adorable smile on his face.
"Yes," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with happiness.
"You're mine," you murmured, still not believing it.
"I'm yours," he repeated, his voice full of affection.
You couldn't deny how those words made you feel. It felt like your heart was about to burst, and the heat all over your body was almost unbearable.
"This... is surreal." You breathed out, your eyes scanning his face.
"Good surreal, or bad surreal?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.
"Good. Really, really good," you said, smiling.
"Okay, good. Now let's order, I'm starving." He said, a playful smirk on his lips.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
As the two of you walked out of the restaurant, you couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight reflected off of his blond hair.
"Thanks for the late dinner," you said, smiling up at him.
"Anything for my girlfriend," he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"Stop," you laughed, nudging him, the words undeniably exciting you.
He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, making your heart skip a beat.
"Ready to go home?" He asked, his tone soft.
As the two of you made your way down the street, Felix's hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours.
"Hey," he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
"Hey," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips.
"We're here." He said, stopping in front of his house.
His house was a familiar place to you, where you'd spent so much time.
But now you were going to his house together, alone, as a couple. Wild thoughts couldn't help but run through your head.
As you entered his house, your heart raced, and you slipped off your shoes. A mix of nerves, excitement, and anticipation coursed through you.
"So... what now?" You asked, glancing at him.
"Let's watch a movie or something," he said with a smile.
"But-" you started, catching your breath in your throat.
"Hmm?"
"Can't we... y'know..."
"Do what?" He asked, his brows furrowing.
"Well, you spoiled me, so you have to do the other part now." You said, referring to what you said at the party earlier.
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
"You know," you smirked, trailing your hand down his chest. "You said you were going to spoil me and then fuck me. So, do it."
"Mm, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" You pouted, disappointment washing over you.
"Because," he said, his voice low, "If I do that now, you might not be able to walk tomorrow."
"Fuck," you breathed out, your heart racing.
"So, a movie then?"
You grabbed his hand, leading him to his bedroom.
"No movie." You said, backing up onto his bed as your hands reached to the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head.
"Wait..." he said, his eyes flickering rapidly from your face to your breasts.
"What? I said you were going to spoil me and fuck me, and that's exactly what I want."
He let out a shaky breath and nodded.
"Take off your pants," he commanded.
You obliged, slowly sliding your pants down your legs, revealing your matching underwear.
"Fuck," he cursed under his breath.
He stepped closer and trailed his hands down your body, his fingers brushing over the lace of your bra.
His hands moved lower, resting on the waistband of your panties.
"I can't wait to see all of you," he said, his voice thick with lust.
"Then why don't you?" You asked, your voice shaky.
He leaned down and pressed a hot kiss to your neck, making you gasp.
"Fuck, Lix," you moaned, your head falling back.
His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks.
His hands reached behind you, unhooking your bra.
Your breasts spilled out, your nipples hardening from the cool air.
"You're so pretty," he murmured, his eyes admiring every single part of you.
He took one nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.
"Oh my god," you gasped, arching your back.
His hands roamed over your body, feeling every curve.
He moved lower, trailing his tongue down your stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses.
He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs.
You were completely bare before him, and he couldn't take his eyes off of you.
"You're perfect," he said, his eyes filled with awe. His hot breath ghosted over your inner thigh.
He spread your legs open, revealing your glistening pussy.
He looked like he was in a trance by you, taking his time biting and licking your inner thighs.
You were aching, desperate for his touch, his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
You moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair.
"Please, Felix," you begged.
He chuckled against your inner thigh, "please what?" He murmured.
"I need you," you said, your voice shaking.
"Please, boyfriend."
The word 'boyfriend' sent shivers down his spine and his cock twitched.
He positioned his head between your thighs, his face right in front of your aching cunt.
You felt his warm breath against your pussy and it made you tremble, the heat almost unbearable.
You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him.
He trailed a finger down your slit, parting your folds.
He dipped his tongue inside you, lapping up your wetness.
You cried out, your grip on his hair tightening.
"Lix!" You gasped. "Please, Lix," you begged, your voice trembling.
He circled his tongue around your clit, before flicking it, the sensation almost enough to make you come undone.
His hands gripped your thighs as he lapped and sucked, your pleasure building, and building.
The knot in your stomach tightening.
The pleasure was too much. It was so much, yet it wasn't enough. You wanted more, you needed more.
Your foot trailed down to the bulge in his jeans, pressing against the hardness.
Felix moaned into your cunt, sending vibrations throughout your body.
"Please, please use this," you pleaded, almost whimpering.
He chuckled softly against you, pulling away with a lewd sound, his eyes locked on yours.
He stood, towering over you and began unbuckling his pants. You felt your core heating, throbbing for him to touch you.
His eyes locked on yours and his pants dropped to the floor.
Felix pulled down his boxers and you felt a shiver run up your spine at the sight of him. His cock was hard and throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
Felix let out a shaky breath and lowered himself on top of you.
His hardness rubbed against your core, and you couldn't help but let out a gasp.
His eyes locked onto yours. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.
You nodded. "Don't stop." You said, your voice shaky.
His hand reached up, his fingers trailing along your lips.
"Can I?"
You nodded, unable to speak.
Felix smiled, and guided his hardness to your entrance, his tip slowly stretching your walls.
The pleasure was unlike anything you had felt before. It was like every nerve was on fire, your entire body burning with pleasure.
Felix let out a shaky breath as he pushed further in. Your walls stretched around his girth and your pleasure grew with each inch.
"Fuck," he murmured, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
The sensation was almost too much for you to take. You were so full, your walls pulsating around his length.
"God, you feel so fucking good," he groaned.
You arched your back as he began thrusting in and out of you, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
Your walls tightened around his length, and your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you.
Felix's hands found yours and laced them with yours. He kissed you as his hips thrusted against your own.
He kissed down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.
You gasped, your walls clenching around his length. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your climax building with each thrust.
"Oh my god," you gasped, your toes curling.
"If you cum now, I won't stop," he warned, his hips snapping into yours.
His cock pressed against your g-spot with each thrust, the pressure almost too much.
"I don't care," you gasped. "Please don't stop."
He looked at you as if you were going to regret saying that later, his cock buried deep in you.
Felix pulled back until he was nearly completely out, then slammed his length inside you, his hips snapping against yours.
You moaned loudly, the pleasure almost too much. Your walls clenching around his length as he slammed into you, each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax.
The sensation of his cock stretching you, and his tip rubbing against your sensitive bud was too much for you. You cried out as your orgasm ripped through you, your walls tightening around his length, milking every inch.
The sensation was overwhelming, your toes curling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, the orgasm hitting you in ways you didn't think was possible.
You writhed and arched your back as Felix continued thrusting into you, each thrust sending you into another state of ecstasy.
You cried out his name in helpless pleas, your nails trailing down his back.
Your walls continued pulsating around his length, squeezing it with every thrust.
The sensation was too much. The pleasure was so intense, you thought you were going to pass out.
Felix's hips continued snapping against yours, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
You felt your walls clenching around him and another wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body shuddering with ecstasy.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth opened in a silent cry.
Your legs trembled around him as your second orgasm ripped through you. You writhed against him as your body spasmed from the overstimulation, the pleasure too intense.
Your nails dug into his back as he continued thrusting into you. His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts becoming harder and faster.
His hand reached between the two of you, his thumb rubbing circles over your sensitive clit.
"No... no, it's too much!" You gasped, tears running down your face as your body shuddered against him. You didn't know how many times he had made you come, but your body couldn't take much more.
"I know, baby," he cooed. "Just once more, okay?"
You nodded, your body trembling from the pleasure. Your walls fluttered around his length, tightening around him.
Felix's thrusts became rougher as he felt your walls tightening around his length, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy once more.
You cried out in pleasure, your back arching off the bed as the pressure built, his cock slamming into you.
You were so close, so, so close. The pleasure was too much for you to bear, it felt like you were going to pass out from the intensity.
Your legs trembled, your toes curling as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit.
"You can do it," Felix urged you, his voice thick with lust.
That's all it took. His words pushed you over the edge, the pressure bursting and your walls tightening around his length, pulsating.
Your vision went white, and your body trembled with ecstasy, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave.
Felix let out a shaky breath, his body shuddering as he released into you, his cum filling you.
He continued thrusting into you as you came down from your high, your body shuddering with aftershocks.
Lying on the bed, completely spent, you felt every muscle in your body ache with satisfaction. Tremors wracked your body, making it difficult to draw in a steady breath.
He devoured you, you felt like all of the energy was just sucked out of you.
He kissed your forehead as he pulled out, his seed spilling out of you, and down your thighs.
He pulled you in close, wrapping his arms around you, "you okay?" he murmured against your skin, kissing you lightly.
You nodded, your body exhausted, you couldn't speak.
He held you in his arms, gently stroking your hair. "You did so well for me," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.
As you drifted into slumber, he tenderly pulled the covers over both of you, enveloping you in warmth. His arms encircled you, his chest radiating comforting heat against your back.
He pulled you close, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
His arms around you felt comforting and safe, his heartbeat steady. A sense of love and contentment enveloped you, filling your heart with warmth and peace.
Felix ran a hand over your back, his fingertips tracing light patterns on your skin.
"I love you," he murmured, his warm breath tickling your neck as he held you close.
You hummed quietly in response, your eyes fluttering shut, exhaustion hitting you in waves.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
taglist for my babies: @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1
#stray kids x reader#skz#stray kids#skz smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids felix#straykids#skz felix#skz imagines#skz x reader#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#lee felix#felix lee#felix smut#felix x reader#felix#stray kids smut
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opposite • aa23 ੈ✩‧₊˚
she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy? now I think I get the cause of it, you were holding out to find the opposite.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairings || alex albon x singer!reader, alex albon x lily muni he
ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au
ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || based on sabrina carpenter's opposite. after an abrupt break up, alex begins to show of his new relationship while reader reflects on their relationship.
alt. he was holding out to find the opposite
ੈ✩‧₊˚ warning || sad, kind of alex hate but also not idk
ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || ok ok first ever alex fic i hope u guys like! also absolutely no lily hate, she’s my fave fr but anything that seems like lily hate is just plot purpose i love her! i also never use blonde face claims but for the purpose of the song narrative i thought it made sense x
liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, and 198,028 others
yourusername 😋
tagged alex_albon
username34 the cutest couple evaaaaa
williamsracing our favourites💙
⤷ yourusername love you admin
username72 mum&dqd frfr
carmenmmundt linda 🩵
alex_albon candid 😍
⤷ yourusername fuck off
georgerussell63 resorting to shirtless pics. shameless albono 😦
⤷ alex_albon taking a page out of your book georgie
⤷ yourusername im not complaining 🙃
liked by williamsracing, logansargeant, and 109,992 others
yourusername recent flicks
tagged alex_albon
username71 y/n in the studio!!!
⤷ username18 are we finally getting new music?!
francisca.cgomes 😍😍😍
username2 alex on the vespa w his helmet 😫
landonorris ugly shoe twins
⤷ yourusername ugly papaya twins @oscarpiastri
⤷ oscarpiastri wtf-
rachelzegler u finally got ur ass back in the studio 🌟
carmenmmundt eres hermosa 🩷
⤷ yourusername 😘😘😘
alex_albon my beautiful girl
⤷ yourusername gag
⤷ alex_albon ig ill just fuck off then
⤷ yourusername also so you are on ur phone…
⤷ alex_albon my phone is on dnd baby 😩
liked by charles_leclerc, albon_pets, and 309,028 others
alex_albon lately with my lady 😋
tagged yourusername
username17 albon winning everyday
francisca.cgomes run away with me @yourusername
⤷ yourusername im coming baby
⤷ username10 fork found in kitchen
danielricciardo albon.jpg when?
username4 she’s so cutieful
username12 height difference 😫
username6 backwards cap alex u do things to me
liked by yourusername
yourusername this is really sweet ☹️
⤷ alex_albon gag
f1 the dynamic duo of our dreams 🏎️🎤
liked by username8, username91, and 24,098 others
f1updates happy 6 year anniversary to our fave couple!
tagged alex_albon, yourusername
username1 holy shit SIX YEARS?!
username23 all the people who said she’s only with him for money and fame finding out she’s been with him since b4 f1 and they’ve known eachother since high school
⤷ username4 he dropped out so…?
⤷ username23 sorry i should’ve clarified i meant like teenagers bc it was when y/n was in high school, they met bc her brother did karting with alex
username46 alex and his peace sign are unstoppable
username3 their height difference has moved me
⤷ username8 tall bf and his 3x🍎 tall gf
username61 betting on a 💍 this year
⤷ username43 same they’re sooo endgame
username12 if they break up love is dead
liked by georgerussell63, patrickh_coach, and 450,982 others
alex_albon happy anniversary bunny 🐰❤️
tagged yourusername
comments have been limited by creator
yourusername love u loser
yourusername my honey bear 🥰
⤷ alex_albon your duality
liked by francisca.cgomes, susiewolff, and 309,092 others
yourusername happy anniversary to my favourite person, six years around the sun with the love of my life. to the person who makes me laugh and smile,, i will never stop writing songs about my eternal muse. to forever with you ❤️
tagged alex_albon
username81 oh god i’ve never felt more single
carmenmmundt my faves ❤️
username9 parentssss
francisca.cgomes happy anniversary to the most talented brilliant amazing wonderful person i know and her chauffeur 💝
georgerussell63 how’ve you dealt with him for that long? 😳
⤷ yourusername he’s been your boyfriend much longer x
username8 i will never stop writing songs about my eternal muse GOD WHEN IS IT MY TURN
⤷ username71 oh to be y/n y/l/n’s muse
username44 SIX YEARS?! i remember her first tour when she adjusted all the dates to follow the f2 calendar 🥹
username02 wish my camera roll looked like that
⤷ williamsracing ours lowkey does 😅
albon_pets happy anniversary y/n🐰 and alex 🐼! let’s get nandos to celebrate ❣️
natalie_pinkham question finally popped?! 😍
⤷ yourusername not yet! hahaha
⤷ username19 six years and no ring…
username92 come on albono put a ring on it
username7 don’t know how albon pulled it off but he better lock it down soon
username5 bro propose already
username42 i feel bad for y/n
⤷ username16 she should cut her losses
username16 how has he not gotten down on one kneee yet jesus
username63 STILL NOT RING?
2 weeks later
liked by carmenmmundt, luisinhaoliveira99, and 320,828 others
yourusername know it’s for the better 🫤
username71 waiting room lyrics? i fear parents have divorced
username23 do we think they broke up?
⤷ username63 don’t even joke lad
username11 have they broken up?
username17 they haven’t posted or been seen together and they unfollowed… i think it’s over
phoebebridgers 🩶
luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl ❤️🔥
username45 she’s in the studio so on the up side new music?
⤷ username12 remember when she said no more break up songs bc shes over the past and has nothing to be sad about in her relationship welp
francisca.cgomes banger song…
⤷ yourusername tiktok fix you mashup is even better 🙃
username27 NOOO THIS IS NOT FOR THE BETTER
username3 all i can think of is y/n commenting about the coldplay remix bc like “tears stream down your face when you lose something you can not replace”
⤷ username81 gonna end it all
liked by williamsracing, landonorris, and 309,727 others
alex_albon abu dhump ✌️out team ✌️we UP
tagged williamsracing
landonorris she broke
⤷ alex_albon 🤣
⤷ username1 wtf.
⤷ username17 this is not the same man that said y/n was the light of his life and sometimes the only good thing about it
username17 all men are the same.
username13 i reckon he’s salty y/n wouldn’t wait for him to be ready
username6 u were meant to be different ALEX
username52 could commit to a six year relationship but not marrying her… yeah ok
username17 yeah YOUR up
georgerussell63 congrats on the season mate must’ve had a great support system 🙂
⤷ username10 man is livid
⤷ username67 he’s basically lost one of his closest friends bc his best friend strung her along for over half a decade
⤷ username2 hmm i agree obviously it seems alex was the reason they broke up but acting like he didn’t love y/n is kinda crazy
liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, and 450,029 others
alex_albon tis the sea-sun 🎅
landonorris all those bags for one?
⤷ alex_albon don’t pack light 😉
⤷ username82 there’s no fucking way
username81 guys it’s probably just a friend lol
username15 weird but ok
username17 they broke up let him move on 🙄
⤷ username27 two weeks ago…
username09 rip
username8 no way he’s already moved on
username27 guys this could just be a friendly trip like there are other people there as well
username61 y/n’s gone MIA and alex is out posting his thai land holiday
⤷ username7 people process things in different ways
liked by emmaraducanu, alex_albon, and 120,982 others
lilymhe 📍🇹🇭
username81 this is the girl in alex’s post?
username11 pretty!
username23 liked by alex albon…
username09 slaying the off season 😍
username7 who is this girl?
⤷ username4 she’s an american pro golfer in the lpga
carmenmmundt 😍
⤷ username71 rip parents are divorced and i think alex got gr and carmen
liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 309,091 others
alex_albon new year new goals
username45 new year new gf lol
username6 albon tryna soft launch?
landonorris simp
username11 i wonder how y/n feels…
⤷ username3 this has to be a blow to the heart
⤷ username17 hope she has him blocked
williamsracing ready for the new szn albono 💙
username11 lily wearing his helmet ☹️
⤷ username4 same one y/n used to use…
⤷ username88 how do u know it’s her
⤷ username13 just guessing
username18 fucking hell
username61 and they told me people grieve in different ways…
liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, and 408,928 others
yourusername happy new year 🌟 been locked in the studio 🤍
username72 girl tryna play it cool but the tolerate it lyrics giving her away fr
username25 SIX YEARS
username42 she’s been locked in the studio while alex is out soft launching his new relationship lol
⤷ username7 new album about to hit
francisca.cgomes dress 😍
username61 “some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world”…
username7 some people making it sound like alex never lived y/n
⤷ username63 no i think it’s that he seemed to love we so much but his actions compared to y/n are very odd
carmenmmundt feliz año nuevo 🩷
⤷ username71 phew they’re still friends
username71 y/n out of hiding!!! 🥹
username6 rep era 🖤
⤷ username23 more like ttpd 😳
albon_pets happy new year y/n 🐰🥳
⤷ username18 she’s still their bunny 😖
liked by carmenmmundt, alex_albon, and 183,093 others
lilymhe ❣️
emmaraducanu wag duties ✌️
⤷ lilymhe 😂🥰
username17 yeah this really hit,, lowkey missing y/n
username7 she’s in bahrain?! welp
username55 awww she’s wearing his merch 🥹
⤷ username6 so cute she’s wearing the merch his ex gf helped design xx
username12 ok i love y/n but lily is soooo pretty
username63 new wag!
carmenmmundt love
williamsracing 💙
liked by username23, username16, and 23,099 others
f1updates new f1 couple confirmed! pro golfer and rumoured girlfriend of alex albon spotted in the paddock for the first time seemingly confirming the couples status. there is a lot of discourse among fans regarding how quick the williams driver has moved on from his last relationship with singer y/n y/l/n, the pair were together for six years after abruptly splitting following their six year anniversary.
tagged alex_albon, lilymhe
username63 i mean they’re cute but i miss y/n
username17 so cute 😍 much better suited to eachother
⤷ username82 i love that they’re both athletes so they understand each other more
username99 she matches alex’s energy 😍
username44 he looks so happy 🥹
username13 cute couple
username1 they will last i think
liked by lilymhe, williamsracing, and 299,928 others
alex_albon bahrain tested: car ✅ food ✅ greens ✅
tagged lilymhe
username71 HARD LAUNCH
lilymhe need to work on that swing
⤷ alex_albon yeah you should
⤷ lilymhe oh!
lilymhe pretty sweet caddy 🥰
williamsracing things we like to see 💪
username2 awww they’re so cute
username14 couple goals
username23 parents ❤️
username2 they’re perfect together
landonorris 🔥
liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, and 309,727 others
yourusername if i don’t laugh ill cry xx
francisca.cgomes sabes q és linda?
⤷ yourusername i love u
username1 prettiest
username09 stop she defs saw alex’s post
username23 all men do is lie
carmenmmundt ❤️❤️❤️
logansargeant sunscreen?? 🧴
⤷ yourusername so funny logs
⤷ username2 their friendship 🥰
username7 i feel so bad for her
username16 everyone breaks up she should get over it
username12 six years…
liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 239,029 others
lilymhe triple M dump 🇲🇨🇨🇦🇺🇸 with some ⛳️ in between
tagged alex_albon
username71 oh my god she’s the most beautiful girl in the world
alex_albon my beautiful girl
alex_albon wow 🤩
alex_albon prettiest in the universe bunny
⤷ lilymhe 🐰❤️
⤷ username62 THEY HAVE HIT THE PENTAGON
⤷ username3 he’s so?! not the bunny nickname… have some shame albono
username45 rip
username82 she is out of this world 😍
username43 idk if anyone knows what im talking about but i remember this interview a couple of years ago where alex said his celeb crush was this one tv actress, ive forgotten her name but i remember she looked exactly like lily does
⤷ username6 his perfect type 🥰
⤷ username47 remember who he was with then…
⤷ username82 my girl y/n catching strays all the time
liked by oliviarodrigo, iamrebeccad, and 451,928 others
yourusername i scream inside to deal with it like AHHHAEGEGBDBDHEHJEJDNXNJE
tagged oliviarodrigo
username45 girl is going through it
username22 “you’re the only girl i’d ever want” yeah ok liar
liked by yourusername
oliviarodrigo girl-
⤷ yourusername happier, pretty isn’t pretty, & stranger is a lethal lineup. don’t ask why i know… 💜
⤷ username42 wooh deadly combo
⤷ username25 just two ‘teenage’ girls who make the most gut wrenching twisted experiences sound like fairy dust
liked by oliviarodrigo, yourusername
username5 bunny nickname was sacred i can’t believe this 😖
username16 last slide is so real girl 😩
francisca.cgomes validddd
username11 i really don’t think she’s taking all of this very well
⤷ username18 u think?!
liked by lilymhe, patrickh_coach, and 230,838 others
alex_albon happiest with my girl
tagged lilymhe
username23 day b4 y/n’s birthday…
⤷ username45 he knows what he’s doing
username28 he’s never looked happier than with lily 🥰
lilymhe my silly boy
landonorris whippeddd
username67 pinterest couple 💌
username18 i love that they seem like best friends as well
username61 i want what they have ☹️
username77 his girl awwww
liked by luisinhaoliveira99, georgerussell63, and 509,983 others
yourusername opposite out now 🌟🐰
username23 the golf fit and bunny emoji SHES MESSY!
alexandrasaintmleux trop belle 🩷
username8 nah not the golf outfit when his current gf is a pro golfer…
username17 “she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy?” after his ig post rlly hits
username13 i wanna hug her 🫂
username62 really her eternal muse….
username37 does she step out the spotlight so u bathe in it? GAGGED HIM
⤷ username2 righttt like especially since when they were together she was always the more famous one and he was the bf
georgerussell63 🤩
⤷ username11 alex may be his best mate but he hast to stan
username16 “i’ll never stop writing songs about you” well she didn’t lie-
username34 them always joking about how alex was a bad texter but now he’s with lily he’s suddenly the fastest replier ☹️
⤷ username9 “oh so u can reply just to not me” 🫤🫤
carmenmmundt so good ❤️
⤷ yourusername ily
francisca.cgomes TRYNA TAKE IT AS A COMPLIMENT ITS KINDA FEELING LIKE THE OPPOSITE
⤷ yourusername my best friendddd
username8 u were holding out to find the opposite is CRAZY
username92 “you knew i would see that” 👹👹
username6 “face like that other girl your in love with” OH OH OH
username63 “i know now even if i tried to change that somehow you’d end up with her anyway” alex albon when i catch you
username77 “when you said i’m beautiful was i bein lied to?” SHUT UP
⤷ username6 when he’d call her the prettiest in the universe…
username23 just rip my heart out and stomp all over it
2 years later
liked by carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, and 1,340,982 others
yourusername recents flicks x
username17 oh my god that dress is everything
username4 her and drew 🥰
drewstarkey 😍
username8 i really think she’s finally healed and that makes me so happy
alexandrasaintmleux can still hear charles singing sky fall 😭
⤷ yourusername remind me to never give him the mic at karaoke again
⤷ username45 so happy they still keep in touch
⤷ username92 yeah same but i also miss her and carmen&george
⤷ username67 what happened? 🙃
⤷ username92 well nothing specific but they stayed friends after her and alex broke up but i guess it just got kind of complicated and now the only interactions were really see of them is them liking each others posts
francisca.cgomes that dresssss lindaaa 🩷🌟
username62 pretty
username17 awww her and drew look adorable
⤷ username4 idk i still think she’s trying to find someone to recreate what she had with alex and it still hasn’t work but drew is the closest she’s come
⤷ username23 all while he’s still with the girl he got with like two weeks after they broke up
liked by williamsracing, georgerussell63, and 1,098,993 others
alex_albon she said yes! i can’t believe i get to marry my dream girl, as soon as i saw your face i knew i was gonna marry you. forever us, i love you 🐰
tagged lilymhe
username81 WHAT?!
username62 oh my god i would hate to be y/n rn
username12 after 2 years… but strung y/n along for 6 with not even a hint of a ring
⤷ username1 when yk yk i guess
georgerussell63 congrats mate x
carmenmmundt ❤️
username72 y/n y/l/n found screaming crying
⤷ username3 y/n is unbothered,, she has a man and is sooo over alex
lilymhe can’t wait to marry you,, to forever with you ❤️
⤷ username17 “to forever with you” i want to kms that’s exactly what y/n said on her last post w alex
alexandrasaintmleux congrats you guys ☺️
⤷ username4 oh to be in kika alex and y/n’s gc right now
landonorris ggggg
username71 this has to be slap in the face to y/n
albon_pets congrats alex 🐼 and lily 🐰 we love you guys ❤️
⤷ username44 albon pets using the bunny emoji for lily now when it was always for y/n is heartbreaking
username5 yellow cab light theory 🙃
⤷ username77 ??
⤷ username5 i just remember in satc miranda saying men are like cabs: “When they're available, their light goes on. They wake up one day and decide they're ready to settle down, have babies, whatever, and they turn their light on. The next woman they pick up — boom! That's the woman they marry.”
⤷ username14 yeah it also about how love isn’t about commitment but rather timing lolllll
⤷ username77 ohhhh so alex’s ‘light’ turned on after breaking up with y/n and it’s not that he’s more committed to lily but rather the timing is better for him than it was w y/n?
⤷ username5 basically 😳
liked by carmenmmundt, oliviarodrigo, and 1,997,928 others
yourusername you were holding out to find the opposite 🙃🐰
username61 they have hit the pentagon (again)
username1 oh my girl i thought we’d moved on
username73 she’s still at the restaurant 💔
username9 posting this while she has a whole ass bf 😭
⤷ username88 she gafff about that man in comparison to alex,, alex hung the stars for her
username23 “how am i supposed to close the door when i still need the closure?”
username14 “i saw you met somebody and im jealous as hell that i can’t even stomach loving somebody else” farkkkk they still kill me
⤷ username9 it’s been 2 years and she still can’t stomach it 🫤🫤😫
francisca.cgomes ❤️
username18 people using lyrics from emails i can’t send rn is making me want to cry ☹️
alexandrasaintmleux belle 🩷
username42 THE BUNNY NOOO
username16 everyone saying she’s moved on and doesn’t care obviously doesn’t remember how hard the break up hit for her like she was in love with that man
⤷ username45 they were meant to grow old together ☹️
⤷ username33 “i care but i don’t”
username62 he did end up w her anyway….
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
first alex fic!!! definitely not the last but pls let me know what you think xx
#alex albon#alex albon imagine#alex albon x reader#formula 1#f1 x reader#lily muni he#social media au#f1 social media au#williams racing#williams f1#george russell#alexandra saint mleux#francisca cerqueira gomes#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#2019 rookies#logan sargent x reader#alexander albon#aa23 x reader#aa23
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━━ A NEW FAMILIAR
author's note: crawled out of my hole for this one guys. sorry for being so ghost mode im working on putting out more stuff, apologies if this isn't of the highest quality as i'm running on sugar free redbull and three hours of sleep ! love my life hahahahaAHHHH
'୧ ‧₊ pairing: best friend!mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 4600+ ⋆ ✩‧₊
Mike’s expression always glooms when you bring up the next date you’ve arranged. He knows how this story plays out; he knows the truth behind the men you’ve matched with on whatever sketchy website you’ve wasted your time on. They’ve molded themselves into the embodiment of perfection, through falsified photos and fabrications buried in their bios. His patience crumbles like fireplace ash as you skip around his living room and drone on about whatever dickhead you’ve set your poor, precious heart on.
He knows, always, the the outcome is running makeup and salty cheeks, sobbing on the floor of his living room in a creasing satin dress and his welcoming arms, a bitter exclamation of “you were right Mike” leaving your lips in the knowing silence and him gritting his jaw and pretending that it doesn’t bother him the the only habits you ever find yourself falling back into are the bad ones.
It’s no different today.
Mark or Matt or Mitch – you really were killing him, because it should be Mike. It should be him. Him that you’re getting ready for, him that you’re daydreaming about. And it’s an odd feeling, like a movie where your favorite character dies and then movie finishes and you have to accept that they aren’t coming back, no matter how long you sit glued to the reclinable chair, popcorn crunched beneath your sneakers and the credit-scene reflected in your shrinking pupils.
Mike’s not the type to be happier with the hope – he’d let the truth swallow him up, sink into his creaking bones, he’d live with the loss. But he still has hope for you. He has hope that your eyes will open and you’ll seep into his brain and his breath and his bed. He hopes you’ll start seeing him instead of just looking. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Ignorant optimism.
It feels like it.
It feels like it, right now, when he’s leaning against the doorframe of his bathroom and watching you get ready, your animated chatter reverberating around the small space between coats of mascara. He offered to give you a ride before you’d even asked, and he’ll tolerate the sting of watching you get out of the car looking all pretty for someone who isn’t him, just to make sure you get there safely. It’s the type of sacrifice he’ll make for you.
“I can’t even feel my face, I’ve been smiling so hard all day!” You squeal, powdering your cheeks with more purposeless product – he thinks it’s all pointless. You’re radiant, even in the harsh lighting of his bathroom.
He offers a low grunt. What is he supposed to say? He’s not happy. And he’s not gonna pretend he is.
You either don’t notice or choose to ignore, continuing to doll yourself up to whatever standards you have for yourself. “I mean, he says he’s been skiing since he was 6. He’s practically an olympian.”
Mike scoffs.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can you hurry up?”
“Alright, grumpy. Calm down. I gotta do my lips and then I’m ready. Plus, nobody told you that you gotta stand here.”
A fleeting flush of fuchsia permeates his cheeks, but he looks down at his worn shoes to hide it. It’s true. He didn’t have to stand here. But if an angel was populating your bathroom you’d want to take a peek, would you not? That’s how he thinks you look. Angelic. Glowing from your soul, a content smile knitted on your lips. You might as well have a halo and wings – that heaven-sent aura is reinforced when you douse yourself in lingering washes of that sweet perfume that’s branded itself to you. He’d recognise that floral aroma anywhere, the way a shark detects a drop of blood amongst saline scattered seas.
“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?”
Cruelest question of them all. “You look… fine. Good.”
A knot forms in your brow. “All this effort for that terrible answer?” Playful, but with a truthful undertone. Why do you value his opinion so much? He doesn’t want to assume anything.
“Well I’m not the person you’re dressing up for.” I wish I was. He doesn’t say the other words, but he thinks them so hard he’s half convinced if you were listening in the right spot, or looking into his eyes for long enough that you’d hear it anyway.
“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just get going, don’t wanna keep Mack waiting.”
Two letters. That’s all it would take. That’s all he’d have to swap to make it him.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
✩‧₊˚
Even if you aren’t aware, even if he did offer, he drives begrudgingly. He focuses as much as he can, on the road ahead and not your glistening figure beside him in the passenger seat, the very definition of temptation.
The mall parking lot is barren, a few gleaming cars scattered amongst the otherwise desolate area. He pulls into a space, sets the car in park, rakes in a greedy sigh of air.
“If anything happens, call me.”
You sneer teasingly. “Don’t be so pessimistic. It’s gonna be great, he could be my future husband, y’know.”
Yep. Mack, the 35 year old you've met online, who’s only notable talent seems to be skiing and his greatest life achievement to date is shooting a deer, whose head is mounted to the wall in his bedroom, typically visible in the background of his many instagram posts which involved his shirtless figure straining to flex his overly pronounced bulk. A match made in heaven. He wants to scream.
And how can you even tell him to not be pessimistic? How can you look him in the eyes and act like this moment hasn’t happened time after time, the point of no return before an evening spent crying in his arms as he reassures you that your failed dates are never your fault, even though by now it seems like you must be seeking out the same genre of shitty man if you’re this good at getting your heart broken. He’s sick of picking up the fragile little pieces of his bathroom floor, cutting himself on the shards of a heart that’ll never be his. You deserve more than these half-baked, single night romances. He could show you that.
“Yeah, sure,” he grits. “Future husband. Just call me, seriously.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.”
And with that, you’re off, disappearing into the gaping mouth of the mall’s entrance, and he watches with an alkaline feeling growing in his stomach. Your hair is caught up in the wind like clothing on a washline and he thinks his hope is all drained out.
✩‧₊˚
Mike spends a good two hours back at his house. His movements feel vacuous, staring ahead at the screen, barely processing the raging garbage that masquerades as reality TV. The rain has picked up outside, licking at the window panes with a growing intensity.
He’s not happy about the jean skirt and tiny little tank top you’d clad yourself in prior to leaving, you’re probably frigid by now in the cold. You did however reassure him that Mack was gonna drive you home, or even worse, take you back to his place, so his stupid fucking elk head trophie could watch with it’s empty eyes while the pair of you fuck on the bed that his mom still has to make for him because he never can quite manage those fitted sheets, can he? Fucking manchild.
Shit. Mike’s feeling so so bitter. Maybe it’s because he’s finally realized that this is the dreaded pattern he’s going to have to endure with you until death. Or until he braves up and actually tells you that he’s been in love with you since the fifth day of second grade, when you mouthily confronted Jerry Murdoch and told him to give Mike his crayons back.
With a weak sigh, he turns the TV off with a click of the remote still encaptured in the loose hold of his fist, and decides to see if he can melt into any form of sleep – but the knock on his door prevents him from doing so.
He arises lethargically, not having much on his mind but the denial of his slumber as he shuffles over and turns the handle, but then, it’s you.
Fluttery lashes melted to black smudges beneath your eyes, a mixture of rainwater and tears, completely drenched and dripping all over his doormat, your body is trembling and you’re wracked with tiny little cries and he’s feeling so many emotions he believes he might implode.
He pulls you inside and into his arms, stroking your back in gentle, soothing motions, and it kills him that this has become routine. He’s angry. He’s sick of this.
“What happened this time?” He grunts softly.
“He didn’t even show up. He couldn’t even send a message as to why, Mike,” you sniffle into his warm chest, drunk off the even echo of his heartbeat.
A moment’s silence rots like aged fruit. He draws a breath in, then out, then in again.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
You crane your face upwards to meet him, instantly bathed in a nervous shiver when you see how serious he looks.
“My phone was dead.” Is all you can manage to mumble.
“What?” He’s pissed. “Why didn’t you charge it? You could have charged it there, they have outlets at the mall. Or you could’ve used someone else’s, so you didn’t have to walk home in the rain, because you’re drenched.”
“I don’t–”
“Y’know how dangerous it is to walk around alone in this shitty neighborhood? Half the street lights don’t even work, and I don’t even know any of my neighbors, or what kinda people walk around here at night.” He grumbles. “I shouldn’t have to tell you all this, I’m sick of explaining all this to you.”
You roll your eyes irritably, releasing yourself from his arms and crossing your own across your dripping wet torso. “How was I supposed to know he was gonna stand me up? You’re telling me I should just expect it?”
He blinks like a deer in headlights, silence settles into his flesh.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
You scoff. “It’s what you implied.”
“It’s not what I—” He grumbles weakly under his breath, cutting himself off, deciding reasoning with you is somewhat of a useless attempt. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”
“What, charge my phone next time? Bring a raincoat? Yeah, great help, seriously, don’t know where I’d be without you,” your sarcasm hits like gunshot wounds to the teeth.
“Or maybe you should try to meet actual people, instead of fake ones from some stupid website.”
After a cold shiver bites up your spine, your expression deepens with defense. What is his fucking problem? “At least I try to get out of the house! At least I don’t spend every hour of every day moping around and feeling sorry for myself!”
The pair of you fight, sure, every good relationship, friend or romance or family or whatever should, but nothing like this. This is stone-set, it’s been coming for a while, the wild gesticulations and the pacing and the raised voices. It shakes the bones of the weakened house.
“Don’t,” Mike says with a furious edge, fists tightening and untightening like he’s about to take a swing at the wall, like this is going to end with bleeding knuckles nipped with shards of worn plaster. “Don’t throw that in my face, I do everything I can, for you and Abby. It’s not like I have a choice.”
“So what, you’re so fucking miserable in your own life that you have to try and control mine?”
“Control? You’re like my child! You don’t even know how to take care of yourself half the time, so yes, I try to help you not to make such shitty decisions!”
You scowl. “You’re not obligated to do anything for me, y’know Mike. Why do you keep me around if I’m that much of a chore for you!”
He snaps, the tension in his fists bleeding up into his throat, his mouth, the words clot behind his gums and suddenly they tumble out in a fury-fueled shout. “Because you’ve got no one else!”
You deflate, wilting like a flame without oxygen, and Mike deems the silence to be more cruel than anything else you’ve said to him tonight. He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once, the quiet crumbles around him like a burning building and he fears he’ll become rubble beneath the debris.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… god, just–” His eyes flick to you, and then retreat back down to the faded living room carpet. He can’t swallow his guilt this time. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
“It’s fine,” you say coldly, knuckling away an angry tear. The salt water is the trick of nostalgia, you’ve cried like this so many times. Your breakage of those promises to yourself. It’ll be different. And it never is.
“No. It’s not – I’m a dick, I just… I hate watching other people ruin your life. You deserve better.”
Better. What is better? Some twisted fantasy that some people are indulged with and others are left longing for. That you’re left longing for. You know he’s tired of the same bullshit that you force yourself through, convincing yourself of change, painting yourself up to be fit for presentation, and hoping that whoever you’ve leeched onto likes what they see, so you don’t have to feel so alone anymore. You’re oblivious, painfully so. Because Mike could plaster together the cracks in your splintering psyche, if you’d just let him in.
“Whatever, Mike. It’s true anyway.”
There’s a hole in his heart in the shape of your name. He begs you. Fill it. A part of him shatters at the defeat in your words — he’s crumbled you to the bone, to the marrow. He’ll build you back up. You deserve it.
“No it isn't. No it isn’t. You have me. You’ll always have me.”
A silence pervades; the look in his eyes is one of pleading, that you’ll stop and see what he’s offering you, that you’ll stop chasing your own tail, that you’ll stop the cycle.
“Mike…”
“And Abby.”
You indulge him.
“You have me. And you have Abby. And I know that’s… not much, but she loves you. So much. And I’m sorry, ‘cause I know I don’t say it enough, I don’t…. I don’t say how much you mean to me, but I just—”
“Mike.”
He wallows in the waters of your rain kissed eyes, the way your pupils pulse and the words are falling before he can swallow them back down.
“I love you.”
He gives you that stare. That stare that’s the color of black coffee, the look that you can feel, unearthing the graveyard of wilting feelings you’ve tried to bury, the heart that beats for him him him, lodged between the ivory bars of your ribcage. He maps you out with his eyes, he looks at you the way the sun hungers for daybreak.
He’s waiting. He’d wait forever.
“And… and seeing you with these… shitty people who don’t even care about you, it just…” He sighs exasperatedly, dragging a sweaty palm down his face.
His sentences can’t seem to finish themselves. This is harder than it looks in the movies. Harder than when he’s practiced in the mirror, when Abby’s walked in and giggled at him and told him to just fess up.
“You love me? Like…”
He looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “Yeah. I do.”
You’re beyond bewildered. He loves you. He loves you.
“What– but… you—”
“You don’t have to… say anything. I just, I can’t… I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t do it.”
You reach for his hand. It’s a little clammy, a little trembly, but it’s a perfect fit. Just like you.
“I love you too, Mike.”
What?
“You… do?”
He’s skeptical, but he’s also swooning. A stone man is slowly cracking.
“I just didn’t… didn’t think I could have you. I mean, you’re so… you’re everything, y’know? You’re a good brother, and you work so hard, and you’re… I’m just… I don’t think I deserve you,” you whisper, confessing. With a newfound stroke of confidence, he approaches, one hand snaking around to the small of your back, another on your cheek. He’s gentle. In his eyes, you’re porcelain. Precious. Fragile. At least, at this moment. But you love him too and that’s all he needs. It’s all he’s ever needed.
“You deserve everything.” He says it so quietly it’s barely audible. And then, nothing is audible because he’s carefully pulling your lips to his, linking you in every way, his hands tangle into your damp hair and he’s kissing you.
His lips chase yours in messy, uncalculated movements. He’s starting small. It’s been a while. And he’s gonna take his time with you. He’s gonna show you what you deserve. Soft sounds squeak past his lips as they flutter against yours, and you’re closer and closer and closer still, impossibly so.
Within moments he’s whisking you off to his bedroom, his hand tangled with yours, an interlace tight enough to cause ropeburn. His skin chafes with yours, and then he’s kissing you again atop his navy comforter.
He’s gentle, respectful, but you understand what he’s trying to tell you, what he’s been trying to tell you. He speaks through silken drags of his tongue, through the hand that holds your cheek steady— he feels as though he’s gripping the very cusp of a constellation. You taste like stardust. You glow like the waning moon.
He breathes heavily in the expanse of his throat, his pants have become tight and wet and filthy; he’s been subconsciously grinding down into your lap. You’re a little shaky and your pupils have darkened with lust and he is going to show you what you mean to him. What you’ve been missing.
His hand falls lower, into the slope of torso that dips into your hips. His eyes travel back and forth, searching, hunting for the desire that he feels mirrored back at him. Do you want this, the way he does? Do you? His hardened stare doesn’t speak loud enough. He elaborates.
“Can I… uh… do you wanna…?”
Do you want to? You need to.
“Shit, okay,” he croaks out, jaw tense and tight as he traces you beneath calloused fingers. You didn’t realize you said that out loud.
He’s endearingly awkward – you know from languid late-night conversations that he hasn’t done this a lot. Maybe even at all. But he’s sweet, so sweet, like lapping up sugar and feeling it dissolve on your tongue, feeling him dissolve on your tongue, giving you comfort and cavities.
“Can I take this off?” He asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of your camisole. A short nod, and he’s sliding it over your sweat-pricked figure, admiring your contours in the whisper of evening moonlight that bleeds through holes in his moth-eaten curtains. You’re perfect, and he knew you would be.
He caresses your skin gently, drunk on the mellow feeling of your bare stomach beneath his fingertips. Your bra is black, a little lace peering along the straps, your breasts spilling into the fabric. He reaches around your back, fumbling at the clasp. When the garment drops, his hands are replacing it before you can even blink.
“Beautiful,” he manages to get out, thumbing over your nipples.
“Mngh, Mike—”
“Sh. Just let me… just let me. Let me make you feel good. Please?” He grunts out under his breathless voice, and how could you deny such a request?
The moment you agree, he’s grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you towards him slightly, so your back is nearly flat against his mattress and he’s settling himself in the gap that you create for him.
Your skirt comes off first. Your panties are undeniably soused, his fingers trace the big wet spot that’s dripping all for him, teasing you through torturously thin cotton.
“Mike,” you mewl gently, fingers settling in his nest of chocolate curls that are damp with sweat. A firm tweak and he’s groaning, his voice melting away into nothing like hot tar.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles to himself, like he’s never seen anything like it. Probably not in a while. His finger hooks beneath the waistband, pulls it out gently, and lets it go. It slaps against your hip bone and another fresh sound seeps from your lips.
“Mike, shit, please just do something—”
“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than you, carefully sliding your panties from your waist, down past your ankles, and he’s tossing them to join the pile of clothes that has begun to collect on his bedroom floor.
You’re here, before him. The girl he waited for. Your soft flesh is glistening, clenching painfully around nothing, and he’s salivating at the sight of you. He pries your legs out further with his warm hands, leaving them to linger on your bare flesh for a few drawn out moments, before he claims what’s rightfully his.
He presses a trialing kiss to your clit, and your back curves delicately, fingers tightening their grasp in his hair. He moans into you at this action, and you, in turn, moan as well. Confidence creates itself in him with each little whimper that he gets you to release, and he’s answering back, hearing your cries, your calls of his name with his own unabashed exclamations of pleasure. This is just as good for him, as it is for you.
“Mike,” you whine gently, and he’s mumbling weak praise right into your cunt.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long.”
It’s barely audible between his languid sucks; he’s lapping at your drooling entrance, fingers subtly creeping closer, up and along your thighs and settling right above your throbbing clit. He presses his thumb against it, tracing sinful circles against your bud— once, twice, and then you’re far too close to the edge.
“Oh, Mike I’m gonna come,” you choke out between gasps.
“Do it. Please.”
He’s begging you.
And you oblige. With a trembling sob, your thighs tense around his head, keeping him locked in place, capturing him and making sure he finishes the job, and oh does he plan to. When you soar, he’s still holding you in place, soothing the electric sparks pulsating throughout your body.
He savors your sounds, and when they stop coming, he presses a lingering peck on your inner thigh, stubble scraping at the sensitive dermis. He then raises his face to your level, the light coruscating off the filthy souvenir etched all over his face, your glittering arousal that he wears so proudly.
He steals a proper kiss from you, rubbing your side as a gentle comfort. He’s completely hard now, tenting his sweats, leaking against the fabric. You gingerly reach out, tracing what you assume to be the head of his cock, and he sags, boneless, against your touch.
“Fuck, baby I—”
“Baby?” You chuckle softly, still hazed from the candy-coated afterglow of your orgasm. The first of many, he hopes.
“Mngh— g… got a problem?” He grumbles softly, almost quivering as you begin to palm him with purpose.
“It’s out of character,” you tell him gently.
“Shit, can I be inside you?” He asks you, voice ripped raw.
And once again, Mike Schmidt leaves you breathless.
“Yeah. I need it. I need you.”
He groans, slipping off his pants and boxers without so much as another word from your swollen lips. He’s hard, angrily so, his cock pulses violently and a little whimper escapes through the crack in his bitten lips when it slaps against his stomach.
He’s stroking himself slowly, base to tip and then back again, collecting the pearls of precum that dribble from his slit. He’s never been so ready for something. For you. It’s all for you.
He’s holding you, thumbing your hip bones and gently nudging himself into your hole, cooing at every cry that crawls from the crevices of your throat. When he bottoms out, finally, it’s safe to say that he gets a little dumb. “Oh, shit, I’m not— not gonna last long, you’re so tight, shit…” He’s rambling a little. It’s cute.
A few wandering kisses land on you the way dandelion spores decorate a skyline – your cheek and your chin and your jaw, as he waits for you to let him move. You’re squeezing him for all he’s got and he’s three seconds away from spilling before he’s even so much as thrusted. You do this to him.
All those days, staring into your eyes and wondering if you’d ever see him the way you do, all those nights, stroking your hair and softening your saddened sobs after failed date after failed date. They’re all worth it.
You’re clamping down on him, warm and wet and wavering, and you’re exhaling softly through your nose and telling him to move, begging him to move, to make you feel good, and it’s what he does.
He pumps into you with passion, magnetized to your every movement. He’s satisfying a decade worth of insatiable craving, he’s chasing your hips with his. You end where he begins.
The headboard creaks and slams against thin plastered walls, one hand grips onto it with alabaster knuckles and the other one holds your hips for better leverage. He doesn’t need to say it, but each knocked kiss of his pelvis to yours is a silent I love you I love you I love you.
“Oh my god Mike,” you sob, and he slides himself deeper, hitting everywhere he wants to reach. Everywhere to make you quiver beneath him.
“You d—don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he moans lowly. “How many times I’ve imagined you like— like this.”
He’s blabbering, every stray thought that passes through his head is already blossoming on his tongue and out into the air before he can even think twice. Admittedly, you’re too blissed out in your own mind to really respond, but it’s arousing all the same.
“You’re so… so beautiful,” he’s flushed and he’s faltering, and you know he’s close before he even announces it.
“Shit, baby, I can’t— can’t last much longer,” he stammers, his bruising pace beginning to shake.
“Do it in me, Mike, please, please,” shit, are you trying to kill him? Your word is the only law he knows, and he’s wrapping his arms around your torso and diving his head in the elegant slope of your collarbone, biting down into the skin and spasming somewhere deep in your welcoming walls.
He tries to keep himself quiet, but it’s really a futile effort. His hips jut sporadically as he empties himself inside you, and the sudden flood of subtle heat is all it takes for you to topple over as well.
Bliss teeters back into reality after a seemingly ceaseless moment. He peels his head from its previous position to admire you, to stroke a stray lock of hair from your forehead and nervously greet it with a kiss.
He doesn’t let go of you. Not now, not ever, he thinks to himself. His arms snake around you tighter, and somehow it’s even more intimate after the fact. His bare chest collides with your back, his nose rests comfortably against the crown of your head. The pair of you follow each other into a dreamless sleep, safe in the sanctuary of a warm bed and an even warmer embrace.
He’s found his new familiar.
masterlist
✩‧₊
#mike schmidt smut#josh hutcherson x reader#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt imagine#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie#peeta mellark smut#hunger games#michael schmidt#mike schmidt angst#mike schmidt fluff#josh hutcherson angst#josh hutcherson fluff
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im shaking in need my god pop star f!reader x hockey player price oh god oh god
EXCLUSIVE: john price (2), goalie for the specgru and a nominee for this year’s vezina, seen holding hands with a budding pop star of the era, five years his junior.
both are seen dining together and walking around downtown after this night's victorious game against the florida shadows. the two seemed to be engrossed in their conversation and are happy with each other.
it is important to note that price had stated two years ago that he was taking himself out of the dating market after divorce with now ex-beau martha castillo, his wife of four years. is he rescinding his statement? when was this relationship formed? did… (subscribe to suns net to read more)
"jesus," john rumbles, his words muffled behind his palm as he sags in his chair. he passes the tablet back to laswell, their manager, and refuses to make eye contact with anyone else in the group.
the team were the first to call him since the incident, the incessant ringing rousing him from his peaceful dream. he stretched his arm out to pluck his phone from the nightstand, careful not to jostle you awake.
in the end, his efforts were futile because your own team reached out to you. unlike the specgru's management team, yours were more prepared for the fiasco, sending threads of emails full of instructions how to deal with the situation.
it's not necessarily a scandal, not with how there were more people reacting in favour of the relationship, but john had always been a private person and he is just not used to how his relationship with you ended up being public just overnight.
it's not your fault, no matter how many times you've told him so. he knew what he was getting into when he pursued you. he told his team, their PR department, and even his parents about what might change. even martha was given a lengthy call, the two of them making arrangements how martha and her new wife could possibly avoid being pulled into the spotlight.
so really, everything's fine. it really is. it's just that you've been ignoring his calls since this all started, running out of his flat with a yelled, "be back!", only to disappear for hours. john is worried.
"lassie’s probably doing work. damage control an' all that—you know how it is in the bizz," johnny says, consoling.
"do you know how the 'bizz' even works, 'tavish?" kyle pipes in.
john hears a choked sound, then an abrupt yelp, before scuffling fills his ears.
great. now his team’s tussling.
“out,” kate’s voice pierces through his thoughts. “you all, out. you’re distracting.”
“but missus!” johnny whines, but he doesn’t get to say any more and john looks up, wanting to see how terrifying kate must have looked like to shut johnny up.
oh, yeah, he thinks. that'd put the fear of god in anyone, alright.
he watches as the team shuffles out, all of them sending him comforting smiles, before he’s left alone with kate and alex. kate sits in front of him. “run it by me again, john. where did she tell you she’d be?"
john licks the back of his teeth, hesitating, but before he can respond, his phone rings. three chirps pass when john was finally able to reach for it, ignoring the bewildered look that alex is giving him—kate, it seems, is not even shocked by how agile john is when it comes to you.
"hello?" he murmurs, turning away from his managers in lieu of privacy. from the reflection of the window, he sees alex look away too, in pretense with john, while kate continues to stare, scrutinizing.
"hi, baby," you chirp with a giggle as if you were not radio silent for four whole hours; the afternoon is about to swell at its peak, the summer sun sweltering from every corner of the city. "i missed you lots."
and just like that, john feels himself relaxing. his shoulders sag in the newfound comfort wafting from within his chest, his bruised lips—he didn't even know he had been biting them in his worry—slipping between his teeth, and his forehead easing from all his frowning.
john feels like he's won another game; like they've defeated the shadows and claimed the cup for themselves already.
"s'alright," he says, a touch softer. "all is well f'r you?"
"all is well," you reply, voice curling like you’re smiling. "i'm gonna do somethin' soon so all i ask is that you trust me, okay?"
"of course," john instantly replies before his mind could even comprehend what you just said. "wait what-"
"okay then. bye!"
the line drops just like that.
"oh god," kate hisses from behind john. john can't quite say he mirrors the sentiment because anything you do is good. everything that you are is bright.
he would trust you with a goal, if he could—you have his heart already, after all.
.
"holy shit!" mactavish shrieks before a phone is shoved underneath john's face.
he goes cross-eyed, blinded by the blue light for a minute, before he is finally able to push johnny's hand away. he plucks the phone from his friend, grunting when the rest of the squad flank him, heads butting his own as they try to get a glimpse of what was on mactavish's phone.
simon begins to laugh while kyle repeats johnny's words.
john can't blame them. holy shit indeed.
it was a new post from you, in instagram. it was a picture he remembers you asking him to take for you from the night before, all coy as you danced in front of him, both of you ignoring the obvious tent underneath his sweats.
"i want a keepsake," you murmured while batting your eyelashes. "please?"
"it's all yours, if you want," john remembers replying, all parched with his need.
"no," you said with a giggle. "a picture's enough."
"okay," he had said with a croak, his eyes blown wide as desire bloats from the pit of his belly.
so here it is now, posted for everyone's eyes in your account, the product of your seduction—you, sitting on the back your legs, stretching out on the bed, clothed in nothing but his jersey for a top—the bold and white-coloured 2 almost covers your whole back—and a black bikini for a bottom.
his eyes flit to the caption: comfy in his shirt. #letsgospecgru
"holy shit," john rasps out loud this time, his need growing teeth.
keller bursts into the locker room. “your turn to post with her merch.” he throws something at john and it is only his reflexes that allows him to catch it with his hands.
he looks at it—it’s a cream jumper sold during the release of your new album. the material is soft, the embroidery so smooth. the logo, even, is beautiful.
say less, he thought, already slipping out of his practice shirt and into the jumper.
.
[image]
pricejhn2: her number one fan #newalbum
#john price x reader#john price x f!reader#captain john price#tf 141#john price#suns#hockey au#LOSING MY MIND THIS IS SO FUNNT#pls let me be delusional bc i would 100% cry if yall @ me with hatred in ur heart </33
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I need that for my comfort!🥺✨ Trans boy reader who started to have dysphoria because his hair a getting to long for his comfort. So he ask to Sebastian to help him cut them shorter, which Sebastian hesitantly agreed. Might not be the best since it’s was cut with some scissors and also because Sebastian never cut hair before. But reader is still happy with the result lol.
This is so cute
Hair and Care 101
Pairings: Sebastian Solace X TransMasc!Reader
Au: Classic
Warnings: Mentions of Gender Dysphoria
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
“And you're sure you want me to cut it? You won't do it yourself?”
“I can't exactly see the back of my head, so yes.” You sit on a stool, hands knitted together in anxiety. You'd asked Sebastian if he would be willing to cut your hair for you today. It had been, admittedly, a bit awkward to ask. He’d been flipping through files and restocking the supplies on his tail when you'd stepped into his shop. Your long hair getting in your eyes and somewhat fanning out nearly down to your hips. You hadn't had the opportunity to get it cut in so long it made your skin crawl. You felt…feminine. Way too feminine. You can't remember the last time you let your hair grow out this long and its made it really, really hard to focus on anything else. Its not just because it gets in your eyes and you can't for the life of you find a hairtie. Its deeper than that. You've started to almost flinch away from your reflections in the water and windows.
You've started to grab at your hips, at your face, poking and prodding and wondering if you can even pass with long hair. You haven't met another person besides Sebastian and the idea of being unable to see yourself the way you should. The way you know in your heart to be right. It makes you uncomfortable. You can only pinch and poke and prod for so long before your skin gets irritated. Right now, sat here, waiting for Sebastian to cut your hair? This was like your skin getting irritated. You had to debate if you were willing to even let another person cut your hair. What if they butchered it? What if it made you look worse than before? What if he fucked it up so bad you looked like one of those weird troll dolls but worse somehow? It had been your biggest worry for quite some time, until your hair got long enough that you couldn't stand it anymore.
“I feel like I should make you sign a waiver.”
“Sebastian, Im serious. Please, just cut it, I don't care if it's the worst thing ever. I can't keep walking around like this.”
“You understand my hands are too big to fit these scissors properly, right?”
“Doesnt matter, just get it done.” He sighs and grabs a collection of your long locks, specifically the one around your face. He straightens the hair to the best of his abilities using a hand so he can make the cleanest cuts he can.
“Why does this matter so much to you? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, focused on surviving? I mean paying me for a haircut seems a bit much.”
“Its…complicated.”
“How complicated can it really be?” He hums as he continues to make cuts, the sound of scissors through hair joining the sound of dripping water and Sebastian's voice. Would he even be cool about something like this? He doesn't particularly like anyone, and he's not really friendly with you either. Would he use it against you somehow? Would he get aggressive about it?
“I just feel kind of…feminine, and it makes me uncomfortable.” You mutter and this only gets a chuckle, sounding condescending.
“Oh, Expendable, long hair doesn't make you any less of a man. Don't be ridiculous.”
“I just don't like it.”
“Look, all I'm saying is, you could have bought a medkit instead of a haircut. If its this important than fine. Who am I to tell you how to spend your collected data?”
“Whether it makes me more of a man or not, is it wrong of me to not like feeling…” You trail off, and all at once, Sebastian tenses mid cut.
“Oh…thats what this is about.” His tone softens up a bit, the mild poking he had been doing immediately being cut out as he carries on cutting your hair.
“This isn't too stupid of a purchase, I guess.” He adds on.
“Yeah?” You ask as he finishes up, putting the scissors to the side and ruffling your hair to get any loose strands out.
“Yeah. Go take a look,” he motions towards the water so you can see yourself in the reflection. You peer down into it curiously and immediately your shoulders relax. You hadn't even realized you'd been tense. Your hairs a bit choppy, admittedly, but its not ugly or particularly butchered by any means. He was oddly thoughtful and careful about taking care of your hair for you. Even saying it was ridiculous to spend your data on, he didn't ruin it for you on purpose.
“Its good, you did a good job.”
“Yeah, well, I'm sure if you keep coming to me I'll get better every time.”
“Im sure you will, then.” You give him a smile and he kind of awkwardly smiles back for a moment. A bit of hesitation as you grab the keycard off his desk and put your swimming gear back on now that its dry.
“Wait.”
“Ah- Yes Sebastian?” You turn, concerned about what he might say. He's not stupid and you're certain he's figured you out by now. If he doesn't like it, there's nothing he can do about it sure but you always tense when people get all awkward around you. He hesitates a moment longer before giving you a little wave.
“You look better with short hair anyway.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do…now go on and get out of here. I've got other Expendables to deal with and a mess of hair to clean.”
#Sebastian Solace#Sebastian#Sebastian Pressure#Pressure Sebastian#Pressure#Pressure Roblox#Roblox Pressure#Reader#x Reader#Reader insert#Player#x Player#Player Insert#You#x You#You insert#Sebastian Solace x Reader#Sebastian Solace x Player#Sebastian Solace x You#Fanfiction#Fanfic#Sebastian Solace ask box#Ask Box#Monster fucker#Romance#Fish Man#Sebastian Shoelace#Writing#Sebastian Solace x Masc Reader#gender disphoria
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mommy’s here // ken sato x reader
Chapter Nine
masterlist
note: so like i died.... IM SORRY EVERYONE, i have so many comments to read and respond to so i'm sorry for the disappearing. i just get so busy with my mental health and family. i don't have tumblr on my phone always, it's an on and off thing so thank you for the patience. this chapter is really choppy and maybe misspelling. sorry guys <3 :(
you sat cross legged on the floor at the hidden base under kenji's house. kenji and mina were with you as you stared at the baby kaiju who babbled and cooed at the cartoons that played for her.
you watched as kenji admired himself in the reflection of the containment unit, styling it for his public image. you couldn't help but to tag along in admiring him as well, it isn't everyday that you get to admire athletically attractive kenji sato! but it was not your everyday, for the past months it has been.
"mina, we got plenty of fish and pon de rings, right?" ken asked as he straightened out his coat. "yes ken, we're all stocked up." ken turned around, turning to the both of you. "now if she wakes up, put her show on. let her dance her little heart out to that stupid song. and if there's any trouble, you let y/n know. and if you need additional help, you ping me on this."
ken raised his arm, showing off his watch to you both. "ken, she's never been safer. have a good time." mina said reassuring him of the baby kaiju's safety. he smiled softly, turning to you as he crouched down to your level. "let me know if you need anything, okay? i'll drop everything and come back. i'll be back soon, don't worry that pretty little head of yours about this interview either, okay?"
you nodded, giving him a happy "okay!" to which he smiled back. "atta girl." his hands found your face as he pulled you in, placing a kiss on your lips and then another on your head. you blushed at his affectionate actions, still not so used to them. he smiled as he got up, walking away to the interview he had promised to ms. wakita.
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you got rid of the containment unit that held your baby kaiju in, asking for help from mina to pull up a hologram of an area covered with trees. the reason why was to show the baby how to play a game of hide and seek.
she was getting restless and persistent asking for kenji to come back. none of the videos playing were enough to satisfy her so you took it upon yourself to distract her with a new game.
you showed her you hiding behind a tree or a bush of sorts, giving her time to mimic you. it didn't take long for her to get the movement down as she copied you. "good job girl! you got this." you said cheering her on.
it was then that an idea came into your head. "mina, can you help me with a demonstration?" mina floated down towards you. "yes y/n, what would you like me to do?" she asked as she hovered in front of you.
"can you do me the favor of counting to twenty, letting me hide in that duration of time like your typical game of hide and seek. i want to show the baby kaiju how to do it so we can both play." mina nodded in her own way, flying to a tree near by.
she 'closed' her eyes as she faced the tree and waiting for your signal. "okay baby, me and mina are gonna show you hide and seek. just sit and watch, okay?" you told her as she cooed. "okay, ready mina!"
you ran as you heard mina began to count down. your feet hit the floor as you ran through the trees, looking for one in a closed area to hide you better. diving into the area, you crouched down, pulling your body to your knees to make yourself look smaller, more hidden to mina.
mina soon hit twenty, moving away from the tree and began to look for you. the baby kaiju watched, wondering where you went. her eyes followed as mina searched for you, yelling your name out to lure you out. no response came from you, showing no signs of who she considered to be her parent.
it wasn't long before she panicked, her eyes began to glaze over with tears, bringing her to cry as she yelled out for you. your body that was hidden stiffened hearing her cry, instantly jumping away from the trees that blocked you from her view.
"mina! call the hologram off!" mina instantly stopped playing, returning the big room back into its metallic silver state. you turned into your ultra form, rushing to her as you picked her up. you held her to your chest, softly rubbing her back as you rocked her side to side. her head perched at your shoulder as her small hands wrapped around your neck and shoulder.
"there there. i'm here, everything's okay." you hummed softy, trying to soothe her. "would you like me to pull out the containment unit for her?" mina floated up to you asking. "yes please, that would be nice, thank you."
the containment unit rose from the ground, opening to allow you to put the baby kaiju inside the familiar area. she grabbed the crushed car, hugging it to her body. "do you want to see daddy?" mina asked her to which she cooed. you watched as her eyes lit up, having a soft spot for kenji.
"here you go." mina pulled out videos of kenji making her happily spin around to watch them all, forget in about the incident from earlier. "how about a snack while you watch?" mina asked as a small platform with a huge fish rose to her. "oooh look at the fishy, so yummy!" you cheered as she grabbed the fish and ate it happily.
her joyful expression didn't last long, changing into one of discomfort as her stomach grumbled from the fish she ate. she burped out, a green circle of gas leaving her lips as she looked at it weirdly.
"oh my! what you're experiencing is acid reflux. symptoms include heartburn, nausea-" mina was cut off by the baby opening her mouth, a nuclear burp of sorts shooting out a laser that burned through the glass of the containment unit.
you and mina panicked, as she escaped, pushing through the hole, letting her out into the open space. the whole room set off with alarms, flashing the room with red and sirens. mina ran to the side waving her robotic arms. "look over here. look at daddy. he's right here!" a inflatable figure of kenji grew from the ground, looking slightly disturbing at the way his face was plastered on.
you stared at it confused. "where did you even get this mina?" "please do not question." you laughed slightly, returning back to the situation as the baby kaiju ran up to the inflatable and hugged 'kenji'.
"y/n, go searching for kenji. he's not answering his watch and i'm worried we won't be able to fix this situation ourselves. he's at tonkatsu tonki."
you nodded your head, quickly running out of the place, not without hearing the pop of the inflatable. you ran into kenji's garage, taking one of his other motorcycles to reach him. 'sorry ken, hope you don't mind this.' you thought to yourself as you revved the engine and drove forward.
the wind fought against your body as you sped quickly off onto the bridge, stunned at how it grew over the body of water that separated you from the city. it wasn't long before you reached the main land, driving around in a hurry to where ken would be.
you had to stop at a red light, impatiently waiting for it to turn green. your eyes widened, watching a pink object jump over the city as it landed down and chased after something. "is that-" your phone rang, quickly answering it to mina.
"y/n, the baby is in daikanyama, i was able to contact ken, he is currently heading that way." "thank you mina." you hit the gas in the motocycle when the lights turned green, quickly cutting between traffic in a rush to reach the baby kaiju.
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ken frantically drove through the roads, searching for the baby after his alarm had went off signaling him of the chaos that was happening at his house.
"ken, a disturbance has been reported in daikanyama. there seems to be a large, pink creature terrorizing the locals. i am sorry. i'm a terrible babysitter." mina told him over his helmet of his motorbike. "yes, yes you are! where is y/n?!" he yelled over to mina.
"she is currently searching the baby kaiju. i had sent her out to contact you since you had not been answering my alerts over your watch. in the short time that she was gone, the baby had escaped." he groaned, worried but glad to know that he wasn't the only one looking for her.
"ken, i have located her, she is not too far from you." "maybe i can get to her before-" he was cut off hearing the sound of the KDF drones fly over him. panic set over his as he watched them for the baby. "send the location to y/n!" he yelled out in fear.
"location has been sent, she will be there." mina responded back as ken zoomed through the colorful city. you, on the other hand, zapped into your ultra form, jumping into the sky as you flew quickly over the city. the motorbike had been set down on top of the roof of a building, trying to prevent it from being stolen.
your eyes landed on the baby kaiju who chased after some people. you recognized one of them as the reporter that ken had the interview with, as she ran with an older lady and a child in her arms. you landed roughly on the ground. you were started to see that kenji had arrived right after you.
the both of you made eye contact, focusing on the problem at hand. "hey! come on, come on." kenji yelled out to her, making the baby turn out at look at you both, jumping up at joy. "come to mommy and ...daddy." you heard as he hesitated to call himself that, not used to the idea of being a caregiver for something officially. "come here baby." you said as you crouched down, opening your arms for her to run into.
the crown around gasped, reminding you of being in public. you quickly stiffed up as kenji verbally panicked. "uh i- i mean, stop there, beast!" he posed dramatically, kneeling on one knee as he placed on hand on his hip and the other in front of him in a stop motion.
you snickered at him, until you heard the familiar rumbles. your eyes turned to see the babies eyes grow wide as she closed her mouth in a desperate motion. "no, no, no..." kenji mumbled watching as she look like she was about to barf. but she didn't, instead another laser shot out from her mouth, slamming against shields that the both of you had made in front of you to not get hurt.
the laser bounced off from your shields, knocking down a pac man statue that kenji picked up. "uh mina, we have a situation. baby just melted pack man." you got up from the kneeling position, "kenji!" you were calling out for him to turn, seeing the baby kaiju start to walk away.
leaving him in his conversation with mina, you chased after the baby. desperate to reach for her and to have her back in your arms. she bounced and jumped after people who sat in go carts, excited to catch what she thought was a toy that shined colors in the road. you fearfully moved around after her, scared of stepping on something or someone.
"hey! baby!" you yelled out for her to look back at you but instead she continued to run. you internally cussed, aggravated at the situation at hand. finally she stopped running, causing you to skid to a stop.
you looked up seeing her eyes on something. a sort of robotic machine, just like in the shape of mina floated around her. tiny coos of happiness came out from her, possibly confusing it for mina. her joy was gone as she watched it change shapes, making her turn her head to the side.
"baby, come to me, please." you took slow and quiet steps but the machine flew in front of her, right in between the both of you. "stupid KDF." you mumbled as you walked slower. the thing suddenly shot out a needle with green liquid at her leg, causing her to stumble.
you weren't that clothes, and you were still in the main street of people, so walking was becoming an issue. you watched with fear as she pulled out a street light pole, holding it up to her body as she whacked the robot towards you. you quickly caught it in your hands, squashing the machine and dropping the broken pieces of metal.
she happily jumped towards you, you went to grab at her. she was right there, in the grasp of your fingers, yet she slipped away. it felt like the world was against you. all you wanted more than ever was her in your arms.
she jumped high, highest you've ever seen as she's launched herself a metal tower. she was far from your reach again. you groaned as you ran through the street, hoping you hadn't stepped on anything.
you watched as she jumped up, climbing the tall structure. it was almost like the world held some pity for you as you saw kenji run up to her. "where's baby? there she is! come down! right now, be careful!" you watched him yell for her to return as you got closer. jumping, you were able to land next to him.
"she's not listening ultraman! she's not going to come back down. we have to go up." you said panting slightly. your hands found the bar of the tower, grabbing onto it as you climbed up in a hurry. you just wanted your baby. kenji took the hint and climbed up as well, jumping up farther, almost like a spider monkey.
a swarm of KDF jets and robots swarmed in at the both of you, surrounding the baby. you watched as they shot more of the similar needles from earlier ago, covering her back in multiple needles.
a shrill cry was heard from the baby kaiju, now slightly dangling at the attack she experienced. you quickly climbed up trying to get to her but a jet flew in front of you, trying to stop you from reaching them. kenji shot out a blast of energy, hitting al the small robots to get away from the baby kaiju.
the jet in front of you flew into your hair, shooting out a smoke bomb of sorts, blocking our your vision. you waved at the smoke, trying to get rid of it as you coughed. you heard kenji yell out. "hold on! i'm coming!" making you panic more since you couldn't see much.
you heard a cry from the baby kaiju, making you climb up in a hurry, unaware of your surroundings, just to reach her. "NO!" you heard kenji yell out, till a snap of sorts was heard. "y/n y/n, please help." you heard a voice call out to you in a soft whisper, laced with worry and panic.
"i can't see, fuck, where are you?" you called out. "climb higher, i'll be right here." you quickly climbed up till you could finally see. you stared at the baby kaiju who laid in kenji arms. "what happened??" you asked.
"she was right there - she was falling and i tried reaching but i just could barely reach and something snapped - she's hurt, fuck, she's hurt." he turned to look down at the baby while breathing heavily. "shh it's okay, you're gonna be okay, daddy's here." you went to reach out to him, to carry the baby, but before you could the jets of the KDF surrounded you.
"ultras! turn the infant over to the KDF and we will take no action against the both of you." kenji and you looked at each other. you felt your eyebrows furrow in anger at their offer while kenji growled to himself. he turned to you, giving an almost 'up' motion with his head. you knew what he meant.
the both of you blasted off into the air, flying away from the scene of the attack. "give her to me kenji, i'll make sure she's okay." kenji passed the baby kaiju to you. you held her to your body, your body wanting to protect her from any more pain.
"mina, she's hurt! prepare the base! we have to call him. call my dad." his voice sounded hurt, scared of what was to happen. you could only hold the baby closer than before, careful with her arm, as you floated to his house.
TAGLIST!
@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @ldykir4 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @m00nd0v3 @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz @snowbusiness @witcwitchy @mizzowizzo @buggs-1 @mmeerraa @everywonuu @nevermorekisses @f1uveryysblog @t4naiis @stxrrielle @ixqiix @arrozyfrijoles23 @sincerest-one @imsimping4life @sassy-cat-in-town @jack-of-all-trades-696 @flutterfly365 @eternalgoddessofart @hulyenl @leabrainrot @sunmigs @m3q3kic @lynbubble @leviannx @call-me-nyxx @gurofushi @ya-boi-v @im-sidney @haitani-zoe @mtheooo @chreiiii @secretlyapartofthisfandom @greenmanshoe @badbishsblog @reallysparklychaos @deimmortales99 @ashsallyblue2 @matchalatte06 @random-3455 @reivelmin @jennyfernan @solatiiium @liliabrary @maxi-ride @22carolina08 @coffetears @vyxnn-xage
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mulgogi [sebastian solace]
in which a certain prisoner is a kpop stan and sebastian hates(loves) it
a/n ♡ this isn't meant to be taken seriously (and is lowkey cringe) so to the people who hate fun THIS ISN'T FOR YOU!! also it's kinda short im sorry <3 also badly written but erm ^_^'' and to non kpop fans who like sebastian too, this probably won't make much sense im sorry 😭
(this is NOT an excuse to mix my hyperfixations and it is NOT cringe. it is also NOT a reflection of my headcanon of sebastian being a secret kpop stan who likes girl groups. /s)
name inspo: '"mulgogi" by fromis_9 (get it bc sebastian is a fish and mulgogi means fish HAHA!!)
God, Sebastian fucking hated them.
Not only were they super annoying to him, flashing their beacon at his face and whatnot, they were a kpop fan. Whenever they came into the shop they always blasted music that pissed him off. 'I dunno, Sebastian! Maybe you should stan fromis_9', they would say with a stupid grin on their face.
Why were they so joyous too? They were in a facility where almost everything is out to get them. It's like their brain was only full of puppies and kittens or something, even though they're experiencing the horrors of humanity.
Sebastian started biting his finger in irritation at the thought of them. Oh how he wanted to so badly punch them in their stupid yet cute face. As he got lost into his violent (and somehow sweet) thoughts, he suddenly heard noises coming from the vent.
Oh god... not them again...
"Guuueeessss who!" [Name] announces with the most bright tone of voice Sebastian has ever heard in his life. He instantly became nauseous as they walked into the shop.
"Oh... It's you." Sebastian says through gritted teeth, clapping his palms together. "I sure am glad you're back!" The sarcasm of the grumpy fish went over the head of the prisoner.
A grin made its way onto [Name]'s face. "Anyway, you know what time it is!" They exclaim before pulling out a speaker. Where did they even manage to get it? How is it even working in whatever hellhole they're in? Who knows.
With a press of the power button, the familiar tune of a specific song that [Name] liked playing started. The happy and summery tone did NOT match the current situation they were in.
"Have you seen my Hayoung photocard? I carry this around with me all the time!" They said, pointing a piece of paper with a random lady on it at Sebastians face
The fish looked at the paper with lowered brows, not amused at whatever the prisoner was doing. "...You're very annoying." He mutters as [Name] put the photocard back inside their bag. He hated the fact that he found it kind of endearing.
"Aww, but I know you like it!" [Name] teases. "Your tail is literally swaying to the beat of this song right now!" They pointed at his lower end, which was indeed moving despite Sebastians irritated face. He took a deep breath before crossing his arms. "Yea yea... the song is good." He admitted with defeat.
[Name] grinned and started jamming along. Maybe this was a weird way of coping with the fact that there are entities who could end their life at any moment, Sebastian thought.
Whatever the reason was, he was glad that they had some sort of light in their dark situation. He still found them irritating but hey, at least he has company, right? And he found [Name] sort of cute so he didn't completely despise them.
"Sebastian, I think you should really stan fromis_9." Their voice shook Sebastian out of thought. He looked at them for a moment, a deep sigh leaving his mouth.
"Sure! Why not."
if u can, please stream fromis_9's comeback "supersonic"! out august 12th <3
ending was a bit choppy and weird im sorry >_<
thanks for reading!! 🩷
#pressure roblox#sebastian solace#sebastian pressure#sebastian solace x reader#sort of#sorry if its not accurate to you as a reader >_<#🍨 | ribbons writings ♡
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begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please
a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.
violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.
( ft. suguru geto. )
Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
< part one.
wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)
cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~
From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.
It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.
White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.
Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.
But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.
“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.
“I took care of the scum,”
“And didn’t invite?”
Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.
“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”
There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.
“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”
How couldn’t he after what he did to you?
The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.
Until it wasn’t.
That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.
He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.
Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.
Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.
Like they have devoted themselves to do.
Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.
He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.
He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.
He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.
He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.
He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.
He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.
But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.
Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.
Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
“Sugu?”
He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.
“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”
Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.
Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.
If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.
But Suguru is different, he thinks.
“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”
“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”
Suguru raises an eyebrow.
“And who’s fault is that, huh?”
“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”
Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.
“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”
“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”
“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”
Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.
And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.
“So needy, my baby is so needy,”
“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.
“Do you want Daddy?”
“Yeah, I do,” you snort.
“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”
“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.
He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.
“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.
“How mean, ‘Toru.”
“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”
“Mean. You’re lying to me.”
Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.
And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.
“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”
“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”
But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.
And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.
Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.
“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”
“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”
You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.
“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”
Suguru nods.
“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”
Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.
“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”
You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.
“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”
“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”
You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.
“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.
“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”
The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.
Maybe you can.
“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.
“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”
It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.
“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.
“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”
You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”
“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.
And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.
“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”
“Shh, princess,”
Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.
You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.
“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”
“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”
A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.
“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”
“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.
“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”
You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.
Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.
“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”
#⊹˚₊⭒ storehouse#satosugu x reader#satosugu smut#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo headcanons#gojo smut#gojo x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru headcanons#geto headcanons#jjk x you
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it's time to go
actor eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting series
an: im sweating.
songs/media mentioned: happiness by taylor swift and it's time to go by taylor swift (not mentioned but name of the chapter!!)
previous part linked here
--
You take a deep breath in as you stand at the shining bright doors of the building, the reflective mirrors at the front showing you your small frame in comparison. You brush down the ends of your dress, ridding your palms of the sweat accumulating as you push through the doors.
There’s a receptionist sitting at the front, with short black hair who is diligently typing away on the computer. You can see the issue of Vogue, the one the Attack on Titan cast did for season two, placed in a placard at the top of the desk. And when you look around, you see that every Vogue cover you’ve done - the one of you and Sukuna, for your albums - is displayed everywhere.
Then again. This is a big deal. Surely it’ll be their biggest feature of the year.
“Alright. Your interview should be up the stairs, in room eleven. They’ll start set-up at twenty and then the interview will start at half-past.” she states, handing you a shiny key-card.
“Would you happen to know if my request regarding the piano was approved?”
“I believe so. It should be in the room.” she responds, smiling.
“Thank you!” you respond.
You walk up the stairs and find the room, a few workers shuffling around the set. They all give you polite smiles as you walk straight onto the stage, an expensive brown couch on the left and the grand piano you requested on the right.
You take your backpack off and pull out the box, filled with polaroids all tagged to perfection for your interview, as they all start adjusting the microphones and cameras into place. A shorter, older woman walks up to you, shaking the microphone pack in her hand as she gestures for you to stand up.
“Hi! Thank you so much for helping me out today. I’m Y/N.” you respond, clipping the pack to the back of your dress.
“No problem. I’m Leila.”
You pause.
“I know you. We-we’ve met before, right?”
Her face widens in shock as she nods, a bright smile spreading across her face.
“Yes, that’s right.” she murmurs, voice quiet.
“It was…god. That was years ago, back when we were doing press for season two. We filmed a video for your daughter, she was asleep and she was a really big fan, right? How is she doing?”
“She’s doing good. She’s still a big fan of your music.” she says, smiling as she loops the wires through your ears, shuffling your hair behind your ear as she readjusts.
“That’s sweet. I’m so glad she enjoys it, that-that’s very special to me that she does.” you respond, cheeks warm and something stirring in your chest.
You take her in full, trying hard to wrack your brain for how she used to look. She’s definitely years older now - five to be exact - but you can’t pinpoint any. No wrinkles, no tiredness - still the same woman you knew.
But you’re miles away from who you used to be, having aged what feels like eons. You think back to the interview, the compliments you and Eren gave to each other stinging in your mind.
Eren. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. Not only because you took a chance on me after our first screen test, but every other hiccup along the way was only something I could swallow because of you. You-your steadfast determination and belief in me is something so inspiring, so warm unlike anything else. You’ve always been a safe place for me, somewhere I can always run to when I need someone. I’m so glad we can always be fish together.
Y/N. You’ve always been able to sense my feelings - my happiness, my frustrations, my pain - without me having to tell you. And you always, always know how to say the right thing to bring me back down to Earth from it all. You make me a better person and I love you for it.
You’re sure you're crying as you look back at Leila, her eyes wide as she reaches forward to wipe the tears. The deep feeling, the sadness sitting so deep in your chest that you’ve been trying to ignore, is suddenly too overwhelming, too loud for you to swallow.
“I’m so sorry. Was it something I said?” she asks, her look frantic.
You take her hand in yours, squeezing three times.
“No. It’s me. I just remembered that interview. What Eren and I had said to each other and it made me a little sad, that’s all.” you respond, wiping your tears against the back of your hand.
Her face deflates.
“I’m very sorry for what happened. To the both of you.”
You sigh.
“Thank you. I-I appreciate that.”
“This industry is not kind. To anyone. And having seen how you two were as kids, how genuine, it’s sad to see what they’ve said to you both. You know that most of it, if any, isn’t your fault. People- they’re cruel. You’re a very brave girl for still coming here.”
You swallow hard. And hope she still thinks you’re brave at the end of your interview.
You sit down on the couch, anxiously tucking the ends of your hair towards the back of your ears, as the interviewer walks in, a bright smile on her face. Leila leaves, giving you a thumbs up as she walks away.
“Y/N. Congratulations. I’m Layla. Thank you for finally coming down for your interview.” she states, taking her seat on the couch next to you as they adjust the microphone in front of her. She has a blue box in her hands, which she tucks behind the couch.
You don’t miss the snub she makes at you for postponing for months on end. You became a triple threat months ago. And your interview - about your career, about your work - was supposed to happen ages ago.
“Thank you for waiting until I was ready. I can promise you-you won’t be disappointed with what I have for you. What’s that?”
“It’s for you. We’re saving it for the end of the interview.” she states, giving you a smile.
You nod, as you brace your knuckles against your own box, the director coming over to give you both directions and stage you properly against the cameras.
“Hello everyone! My name is Layla Ray and I’m here with Y/N L/N. After a great deal of anticipation, Y/N is finally here, seated with Vogue, for the infamous triple threat interview. We’re going to go through the highs and lows of her career and ultimately discuss what comes with such a great title. Y/N, how are you feeling?” she asks, giving you a bright smile.
You swallow hard.
“Thank you, Layla. I’m doing okay. How are you?”
“I’m great, thank you for asking. This interview has been a long time coming. Six months to be exact. Any particular reason why?” she states, adjusting her tone to be quieter, matching your tone. You can tell she’s a skilled interviewer - the excitement from before dying down as she brings the energy lower.
“I-I wanted to be sure of what I wanted to say here. I want to be honest when we talk about my career and that requires self-reflection. I needed the time to do that. And I-I brought things here to share so I had to put those together too.” you state.
“We’ll go back to the start then. What drew you to the industry - acting, singing, dancing?” she asks.
You pull out your first picture, the one you ripped off of your wall. The paint is still stuck to the tape on the back, the picture of you, Falco, and Colt at your popstar themed birthday party. Colt and Falco have excited smiles on their faces, a sparkly pink crown on top of your head and your hands are clenched around the microphone, at the bottom. You can hear Eren’s words ringing in your mind.
Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.
“This is me at my fourth birthday party. It was a popstar themed birthday party my parents threw for me. I performed a little show for them and my brothers, did karaoke, the whole thing. I-I saw Hange’s speech a few years later when they became a triple threat and it-it basically cemented this as my dream.” you respond, holding up the picture before handing it to Layla.
She’s smiling, running her fingers over the picture.
“This must be a surreal moment. A dream come true.”
You wish.
“Let’s talk about Attack on Titan. How did you find out about it, what was it like being cast, and on a set for the first time?”
“I found out about it through a flier at my coffee shop. I kind of showed up on a whim and did a chemistry read with my co-star. I got the role later that week and was flown out to be with them all. I-I was overwhelmed when I got there at first. I didn’t know much about the set, the terms that you’re supposed to use, they-they had to teach it all to me, like I was a five year old. A fish out of water moment.”
You nervously walk to the other side of the set, where Eren’s sitting in the makeup chair. The team is brushing through the ends of his brown locks, his eyes fixed on his script in front of him, as he murmurs his lines under his breath. You reach forward and snatch the paper out of his hands and tuck it under your arm.
“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” he responds, eyes wide as he smiles at you.
“Sorry. Good morning, Eren.”
He smiles.
“I was joking. Did you need something?”
“I have an embarrassing question. Can you come here?” you murmur, cheeks burning pink.
He quickly hops off the chair, giving a sympathetic nod to the makeup team, as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his face close to yours as you talk in hushed tones.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s a hot brick?” you ask.
“Huh?”
“Hange. They-they asked me to bring them a hot brick. And when I said what, they were like…You do know what a hot brick is, right? And I got so embarrassed I kind of ran away and now I don’t know what to do.”
Eren pauses as he registers, which is immediately followed by him smiling and leading you towards the back of the room. He picks up one of the charged batteries of the walkie talkies and places it flat in your palm.
“A hot brick is a fully charged battery.”
“Oh. Right. Th-thanks, Eren.”
He puts his hand on your shoulder.
“It’s only like your sixth day on a set. I didn’t even know this stuff until the end of my first movie. You-you aren’t behind, I promise.”
“Okay. Thanks, I guess.”
“I’ll help you. Before the rest of the cast gets here. Teach you all the terms and the secrets and stuff. You’ll be a natural.”
“Really?”
Eren gives you a nod, the smile on his face drawing your eyes to his dimples.
“Thank you, Eren. Really.”
“It’s no biggie. I’ll help you with anything you want. Just ask, okay?”
“One of our most overwhelming questions that we received was what was it like filming with your cast? Your show - along with Jujutsu Kaisen - were really the first of their types to have such a big child actor presence on them.”
You smile, pulling out your next three pictures. The first - it's a picture of you and Bertholdt, holding a World’s Greatest Dad mug in front of Levi, who has the most annoyed expression on his face. The second is of you and Historia - tying Reiner’s hair into two tiny ponytails. And the third - you and Marco, hugging each other so hard that your cheeks are pressed together.
“It was the time of my life, really. I-I went to sleep every night with a smile on my face. They were genuinely such good friends of mine and this experience, these memories - they’ll always be special to me.”
“Do you have a favorite memory?” she asks.
“Hm. I-we were all kind of immature at that age. I still am. Anything related to dirty jokes, especially when Erwin or Hange were involved is a surefire favorite. Sometimes I’ll remember them and still burst out laughing.”
The teacher stands at the front of the makeshift classroom, the lazy energy enveloping the room. The warm haze of the summer has the ends of your hair sticking to your neck, the cold desk soothing your burning skin - preventing you from listening to whatever the physics teacher is saying about the solar system.
You look to your right to find the same sentiment shared by everyone else too. Eren’s eyes are closed, his chin resting against his desk as the sweat rolls down the side of his face. Connie and Sasha are sharing a cold drink between them and Jean’s nearly turning pink as he fans Mikasa - the only one who looks relatively comfortable right now.
You kick Eren’s leg.
“Hm? What’dya want, sweetheart?” he murmurs.
“Jean is fanning Mika. You could do the same.” you groan.
You feel a light breeze on your neck as you turn your head to see Eren, leaning against his arm as he fans you with the book. You take it from his hand, giving a head shake as you turn to your side, the two of you facing each other on the aisles. You instinctively place your feet on top of his, the two of you looking at each other.
“I was kidding.”
“I know. I don’t mind though. You’re looking a little hot.”
You smile.
“Just a little?”
“Shut up. You know exactly what I think about how you look.” he says, rolling his eyes.
You bite back your smile.
“And that’s why the answer is Uranus.” the teacher says, metal pointer smacking against the board.
You look up at Eren, the two of you so incredulous - from the heat, from being stuck in here for three hours, from how stupid of a word it is - that you both burst out laughing. And then get in trouble together.
“What the hell was so funny that your teacher had to take you out of class?” Levi asks, arms crossed against his chest as he stares the two of you down, hours later. Hange and Erwin are trying to mimic his intimidated stance, but all you and Eren can do is laugh.
“Um. You don’t want to know, Levi.” you respond.
“It’s stupid. We’re sorry.” Eren states.
“No. No, I want to know what was so funny that you laughed so hard you pissed one of your nicest teachers off.”
You and Eren give each other a look.
“It-it’s inappropriate. We’re really sorry, okay? We’ll go and apologize right away.”
You and Eren stand up, linking arms together as you move to walk away. Except Levi’s moved in front of you two, an entirely different look on his face.
“Do I need to have a talk with you two?”
“What?” you ask.
“A talk. About sex.”
You and Eren turn your heads to each other, eyes wide. And you immediately start back tracking.
“Levi. Ew- oh my god. What’s wrong with you? You’re so disgusting. And-and-and a pervert.”
“Y/N. Do we have to have a talk? Are you being safe? Why are you guys making dirty jokes in class that you can’t tell me?” he repeats, eyes burning into yours.
“No! Oh my god Levi! It’s not like that.”
Levi looks back at Hange as you look over at Eren, who's pouting at you.
“What, Eren?”
“You don’t have to act like you’re soooo repulsed by it. That’s not what you sounded like-”
You smack your hand over his mouth, cheeks burning.
“Eren. Shut up. This is not the time or the place to be bringing THAT up.”
He smirks, clearly delighted by how embarrassed you are, before pressing a kiss to your palm where you’re covering his mouth. He turns back to Levi, Hange, and Erwin.
“Levi. We’re sorry. The teacher said Uranus and we thought it was funny.”
“Uranus? What the fuck is so funny about Uranus?” Levi asks.
You bite down on your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing in Levi’s face - his very angry face. Luckily enough for you, you're not the first one to break. And neither is Eren.
It’s Hange. They’re smacking the back of Levi’s back as they ask him to say it again, the four of you - Erwin having joined you - as you all goad Levi on to say it again. And you laugh so hard that by the end of it, you’re on the floor - screaming for them to stop as Eren rubs circles into your back.
Your chest twinges, as she hands the pictures back, and you tuck them back into the box.
“The success after season one of Attack on Titan was pretty tremendous. You guys essentially became house names overnight. How did that feel, especially given your background? Nepotism runs deep and heavy in what we do and you seem to be one of our only outliers, here.”
“It was horrible.”
A shocked look spreads across her face.
“I’m grateful for it all. Don’t get me wrong. But my life changed overnight. I-I went to school and I wasn’t treated as the same person anymore, by people I grew up with. There were people hanging around my school, waiting to take pictures of me, and-and anyone who had a chance of understanding me, they were all miles away. Filming.”
“Did you feel that often? Comparing yourself to your co-stars?”
“Originally, no. I-I was just happy to be there. But people, I mean. They talk. It-it kind of cemented that idea in my mind. I didn’t think it was weird that I was the only one who wasn’t filming until someone pointed it out. And-and someone always pointed these things out.” you respond.
Colt snatches the phone from your hands, an irritated look on his face as he slides it into his pocket. After a six hour phone call with your new publicist and producers - Danny and Sareen - all you could do was aimlessly scroll through social media, their words swimming through your mind as you considered your options.
“Quit reading that shit.” he says, making an effort to storm out of your room. He hangs by the door when he reaches it, his hands pressed against the frame.
You shuffle under the blanket, pulling the soft fabric over your head. And a few seconds later, Colt’s pulling it off, expression a bit softer than before.
“I-I just don’t get why you read it. What’s the point?”
“I dunno.”
He slides onto your bed, putting his cold legs next to yours under the blanket as you complain.
“In my meeting with Danny and Sareen. They-they’re the new producer and the manager that reached out to me. They were saying all this stuff about how I can’t drop the ball anymore. How if I have people paying attention to me now, I-I have to keep it going.”
Colt frowns.
“I-I don’t know how this stuff works. What does that have to do with you reading a bunch of people saying rude stuff about you online?”
“I told them I had time to decide, figure out what I want to do next. They said I should look online and reconsider. That if I want to be a triple threat, I-I should trust them.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. They-they’re right. And they seem like the type to push me in the right direction, like Levi and Hange. I know they’ll do whatever to help me be the best. They want what I want.”
Colt shrugs. And you know he doesn’t understand.
“Let’s talk about season two. You made history this season - by being nominated for Best Actress in a Lead role among many others, becoming the most nominated actress in Institute history in one night. How did that feel? To-to do that so young?”
“That-that was a win. It came after something really, really intense for me actually. I-I had all these feelings about what it was like to be famous. Building for months. And-and I got them put into words for me right before that happened. It was kind of like going from a really low low to the highest of highs. I-Intense is the word I’d use for it.”
“Could you elaborate? On that?”
You swallow hard.
“Being famous is like living in a fishbowl. There’s-there’s glass in between you, the viewers, and me the person. And it may seem like you can see me, that you and I are the same but the glass is always between us. You enjoy on the other side, smack against the glass, sometimes even put your rods out to wring us out. We-we’re stuck there, that’s all. I realized that and found out I got nominated minutes after. But that’s this job for you. You’re at the bottom one minute and the top the next.”
Her eyes flutter down to your tattoo but she doesn’t make a point to mention it.
“Let’s discuss music now. Following winning Best Actress in a Drama Series, your impressive albums and tours started. You released your debut album, followed by lover girl, and then ribbons. This-this was an insane feat on your part - most artists take four to five years to produce albums at this pace. What motivated you during this time?”
“My manager and my producer are pushing me at every step.”
She smiles.
“That’s some support system.”
“That’s not the word I would use for it.” you respond, voice cutting.
She nods.
“That’s right. Following your last performance, rumors were flying around that you had fired Danny and Sareen, your beloved manager and producer. Is this true?”
“Yes.”
“Why, if I may ask?”
“I just told you. They were pushing me at every step.”
You sigh, looking down at your hands, knotting your fingers together. One of the first things, you could come under fire for, is talking about them, so bluntly the way you are.
“I looked up to them. My previous example from my mentors - Hange and Levi - was perfect. Almost too perfect. Because of them, because of how willing they were to support me, to defend me, I thought everyone was like that. I thought every person who was willing to be on my team was taking into account that I didn’t know much about the industry and pushing me in the right direction.”
“And that wasn’t true for them?”
You take a deep breath.
“I think they used that to their advantage. That I had a blind faith in them. That I wanted to please them, to please other people. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to put out three records, to do world tours that fast. I didn’t know that it was insane that I forgot to eat some days, I didn’t know that it was crazy that they were waking me up after two hours of sleep to put me to work. I-I thought that it was all part of the hustle.”
“How do you feel about it now? Having fired them?”
“I-I don’t regret what they’ve done for me. I-I am thankful to them. If anything, I’m more embarrassed of what they did make me do. Why I didn’t think twice on things they asked me to do, songs they convinced me to write.”
She looks intrigued. She knows she’s getting into the good stuff.
“Songs like?”
“London Boy.” you respond.
“That brings us to Ricky James. Are you saying that you didn’t write London Boy?”
“No. No, I wrote it. But I was asked to write it the way I did. Write a love song about him.”
“Because?”
“Press. It’ll get people to talk. People get bored of the same thing over and over again after years.” you respond, repeating Danny and Sareen’s words, about Eren.
You sigh.
“It’s embarrassing to admit that I did that. Pretend just to get people to listen to my music. I-I am ashamed of it.”
“It’s okay. We-we understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” you whisper.
You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.
“I-I regret it. It’s a horrible thing to do. Especially when, when you have real love and you give it up to pretend. And it’s humiliating to pretend, to see people coo over you and a guy you barely even know. But when you’re famous, when people are telling you this is what you have to do, when this is what everyone does, it doesn’t seem like much to give up. I-I could feel the shame crawling in my skin when I look back at it now.”
You swallow down the regret, thick in your throat.
“How so?”
“The night my album premiered, Ribbons. In the past, all my best friends, they-they’d come to listen with me. Throw me a party, press kisses to my cheeks. I turned them all down that year. It’s one thing to pretend to everyone you know. It’s another thing to do it to people who know better. Who know what you’re doing. I didn’t want to pretend in front of their faces. ”
“Speaking of that night. Could you speak on this?”
She sides the picture, the one the paparazzi took of you on the curb before Lana got to you, towards you. You pick it up and look at it - at your eyes pinched shut and your drenched hair.
“It’s simple. Ricky James started liking me. Asked me out. I said no. And then he locked me out in the rain.”
You see the discomfort spread across her face as she slides the picture back.
“I’m very sorry that happened to you. But you came out of it at the top, with your hit featuring Lana Price. Was she part of your support system during that time?”
You smile.
“Yeah.”
“Can’t sleep?”
You look up from the shelves you were currently pawing through to find Lana, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes, as she walks over to where you’re standing.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted water but I couldn't find the glasses.”
She smiles as she wraps her hand around your wrist and leads you to the other side of the kitchen, taking a glass out of the correct cabinet and filling it up for you. You both lean against the counter, illuminated by the fridge of the kitchen light in the dark kitchen.
And suddenly you’re crying again, wet, warm tears falling down the length of your face. At the thought of where you were four nights ago - running in the rain until she picked you up. You aggressively wipe the tears off of your cheeks as she catches on. And Lana, despite this being the second time having met you, is quick to pull you into her arms, the sweet strawberry smell of hers filling your nose.
“You smell like candy.”
“Don’t go biting me now.”
You laugh, pressing against her arms harder as your tears fall onto her shoulder, trying to muffle your sobs by clamping your mouth shut.
“Eren told me. About Colt.”
She pulls back, wiping the tears off your cheek as she talks, softly.
“You’ll get better at doing this. Protecting them. I can almost guarantee it.” she says, giving you a smile.
“How do you know?”
“Because I did it. Which means you can too.” she responds, placing her glass of water in your hands.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. I’ll help you. Eren will help you.” she responds.
“You’re already doing enough for me. Both of you. I’m intruding on your house right now.”
You feel two hands, warm, around your neck, accompanied with a light squeeze. And then Eren, his voice still raspy from sleep, whispering in your ear.
“Y/N.”
“Yeah?” you whisper.
“Say that again and I’ll kill you. What’s mine is yours.” he responds, sliding his hands off of you as he pushes the fridge door closed and opens the light.
Lana groans.
“God. Would it kill you to put a shirt on, ugly?”
“Would it kill you to brush your hair, you hag? Or maybe not wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“That wasn’t even me. Y/N woke up first!”
“It was your croaking that woke me up, Lana. You sound like a toad.” he mutters.
You laugh, which breaks the two of them out of their argument, and has soft smiles spreading across both of their faces.
“You guys are like siblings.”
Lana comes over, hands cupping your face.
“My sweet, sweet Y/N. Please don’t insult me.”
And then Eren’s behind you, arms slithering around your waist, his voice warm in your ear again.
“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me, princess.”
“Quit flirting, Eren. You’re such a manwhore.” Lana says.
“Princess was her nickname on set, dumbass. Because she’s a pop princess. I’m not flirting.” Eren responds,
“Wow. So you’re too good to flirt with Y/N. You think you’re better than her?”
“What?” Eren asks, leaning off of you.
Catching on to what Lana’s trying to do, you turn around and look at Eren, trying to hide your coy expression.
“Do you really think that, Eren?”
His eyes go wide, hands on your shoulders.
“No! No, oh my god! I don’t think I’m better than you. If anything, you-you’re better than me. I’ll flirt with you all you want. I swear!”
You and Lana stare him down for a few seconds before you burst out laughing, a pink spreading across Eren’s cheek as he grumbles, an irritated look on his face as he shoves past Lana.
“You guys are annoying. I’m going back to bed.”
“Aw, Eren! Come back! Flirt with her!” Lana says, teasing him on.
“Don’t stay down here too, Y/N. You’re going to lose brain cells.” he murmurs, shuffling away.
You turn back to Lana, who's filling your glass with water again. She has a soft smile on her face, eyes warm as she hands you the water.
“This type of stuff…it really helps.” she says.
“This type of stuff?”
“Good people. Who want to take care of you. Make you laugh after you cry, all that cheesy stuff.”
You hum, leaning against the counter again.
“Lean on Eren. Don’t get so jumbled up on what it means and how he’s feeling because he just wants to be there for you.” she says.
“I’m trying to. I guess I just feel bad.”
“I would have benefited a lot from someone like Eren, if I knew him when I was younger. When I was-”
You quirk your head to the side, beckoning for her to elaborate.
“For the longest time, I thought that this is just how guys were. Assholes. Dicks. That it was a matter of finding one who was relatively nice, good enough. That real guys, they’re never like this.”
You frown.
“My dad was an asshole. Ricky was horrible. My brother was the only person who was nice to me but we just- we lived so far and with the jobs and stuff we grew apart. And when I had to deal with things on my own, things I was too young to even understand, I-”
She pauses. Swallowing hard.
“I would have benefitted from knowing Eren earlier. Guys like Eren, like your friends Jean and Marco. Eren’s helped with a lot of my shame and made me better. I-I owe a lot to him really. I know we said what we said earlier, but he is like my brother. He’s always protected me. Overwhelmed me with kindness under insults.”
You smile.
“He’s a good guy. Always has been.” you whisper, heart warm at Eren being Eren, still.
“So let him. Overwhelm you with kindness. Be there for you. You have no reason to be ashamed. And every reason to be scared. Quit feeling bad and just let him. He’s the person you’re comfortable with here.”
You smile, leaning your head against your shoulder.
“Dunno. You’re pretty cool too.”
She laughs.
“Yeah?”
“You know what would be cool. If you guys went to bed.” Eren says, shuffling into the room again.
Lana groans.
“All men have is the audacity. You just ruined a really sweet moment.”
You smile at Eren, which he returns.
“Can Lana sleep with us?”
He stops smiling.
“Huh?”
“You sleep on the left and she can sleep on my right!” you respond.
“Y/N.” he whines.
“Please? It’ll be like a sleepover. I can’t have bad things on my mind before I go to bed if you’re both there.”
“No thanks, sweet girl.” Lana says.
“I’m trying to lean on you guys! Give in.” you respond.
They both groan as they agree, the three of you shuffling towards Eren’s room. You settle straight into the middle of Eren’s bed, as they both shuffle around - loudly talking in Eren’s bathroom.
“Ew, Eren. Why did you just kiss my cheek? I’m not Y/N, idiot.”
“That was for you, Lana Bear!”
“What pervert spirit possessed you at this time of night? And you know how I feel about that nickname after what Hyla said to me at dinner, so shut up.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Lana. And I just wanted you to know I love you too. You’re like a sister to me.”
You hear Lana smack Eren.
“Were you eavesdropping? Asshole. I was lying. None of it was true.”
“Okay, Lana. Sure thing.”
“I’m serious!”
You shake the memory from your head, as you pull out the picture for her to see, one of you and Lana that Eren took. You’re both on his couch, your hands tangled in the bowl of popcorn - glaring at the camera. Eren was blocking your rewatch of High School Musical.
“Speaking of support systems, one of your most talked about relationships is that with your co-star, Historia Reiss. After seemingly dropping songs about each other and making up and breaking up, there’s a lot of speculation on what happened. Anything to share?”
You smile.
“Historia and I are friends. And friendship is complicated. You just got to witness ours first hand, that’s all. Everything between us - it’s water under the bridge, if there ever even was one. We’re just really similar and we butt heads. We still love each other at the end of the day.” you say.
“Well that’s lovely to hear. How about Ryomen Sukuna? The two of you are all anyone talks about these days, especially after how cozy you two were on the red carpet.”
You snort. And pull out the polaroid - of you and Sukuna, of him kissing your cheek at the awards show. And in the background, Nobara and Maki are pretending to gag.
“We’re not dating. And we won’t ever. We’re just really good friends.”
“Friends kiss each other on red carpets?”
“These ones do!” you respond, smiling.
She laughs, nodding as you tuck the picture back into the box. She swallows hard, rubbing her hands against her palms as she asks her next question. The one you know she’s been itching to ask.
“Look. We’ve talked about your career at great length - all but caught up to the night that you became a triple threat. But there’s one person that we haven’t discussed yet, maybe brought up in passing but haven’t broached. Who I think is relevant.”
You smile.
“Eren.”
“Eren.” she repeats, nodding.
“What do you want to know?”
“I mean, everything. How did it feel to know that you finally got him back for what he did to you, the way he dragged your career through the mud. I mean you basically had him hanging his head between his knees by the end of the night, after you ended him. Throwing his relationship with his brother in his face, the songs you wrote, I mean- that. That has to be liberating. To do all that and come out as a triple threat at the end.”
You can feel the tears spilling down your cheeks as you take your last picture out, one of you and Eren at Levi and Hange’s vow renewal. You’re leaning your head on your palm, looking up at him as he smiles down at you. And you swallow the hiccups as you respond.
“In what world did that night seem liberating to you? Making a joke out of the love I shared with someone? I sobbed my way through the entire last song. Didn’t even make a speech. In what world was that liberating?”
You see the shock spread across her face.
“I just thought-”
You smile.
“Since we were fifteen, all people have done is speculate about me and Eren. Are we dating? Are we in love? Are we real? Are we faking? And therein lies the issue, because I think the people, the fame - it came between something really real.”
She stops, nodding.
“Something real? Are you telling us that Eren Jaeger lied in his interview?”
“I don’t know his truth. Maybe it was fake for him. But I was there too.....And it was real for me.”
You look down at the picture, fiddling with it in your hands.
“I-I’d like to sing my song, if I could. I-I think it’ll help explain how I feel.” you say.
She nods, gesturing to the piano. You sit at the seat, sneaking out the vinyl sleeve from the inside of the bench and pull it out. The album cover is a picture of the cast from season one of Attack on Titan. You and Eren are front and center, smiling at each other instead of the camera, everyone’s heads going in different directions. Jean and Mikasa are looking at something to the left and pointing, Ymir is smiling at Historia who is disgusted at Connie and Sasha plugging their fingers in each other's nose.
“This is my fourth and final studio album, called The Lucky One. And this is my first song on the record, called happiness.”
You brace your hands against the keys, playing the tune into the air as you sing. The feeling sits deep in your chest. Your realization was simple. That Historia’s statement - that your Eren wasn’t the Eren that existed anymore - is true. You just chose to focus on the wrong part of it.
You loved Eren and he made you happy. He burned you down, hurt you in the way that only he knew how, but loved you, made you whole in only the way he could too. There's a deep hurt.
But there was great happiness. It’s why you forgive him. Why you choose to move forward, and hold whatever love you did have close.
Past the blood and bruise Past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind And there is happiness
There is happiness In our history Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight Leave it all behind Oh, leave it all behind Leave it all behind And there is happiness
You wipe the tears off of your face as you turn back towards the camera.
“Eren Jaeger is the love of my life. He’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, he’s all too willing to understand you. Too willing to meet you where you are, as you are, and look past all the bad parts of you.”
You stifle your sob, the tears pouring out of your eyes. You glance back at the picture of you and Eren at the piano. And the memory sticks out in your head.
“I love you.”
You look over at Eren, his green eyes gentle and heartfelt as he takes your hand and squeezes three times.
“Eren, you-”
“I love you. The three squeezes - that’s what they’ve always meant.” he whispers, his hand warm in yours as me mimics the motion you’ve done a hundred times.
You swallow hard.
“Eren Jaeger is the love in the room. He gives people a chance, even when he shouldn’t. He’s supportive, so incessantly adamant about his belief in you, that you believe in yourself too. He loves hard, he loves soft, and everything in between.”
“He’s the best person I’ve ever met. Until he wasn’t anymore. And I-I don’t know what they did to him. If they pumped him full of drugs, if they told him something about this industry that I’m unaware of, if-if it was something about me. But this Eren Jaeger, so full of love that it was almost spilling out of him, doesn’t exist anymore. He was real. But he’s not like this anymore.”
You swallow hard.
“This career, the way we live in our fishbowl. It-it’s so cruel. You all enjoyed watching me ruin him. You all enjoyed watching him ruin me. You liked that we spent our entire lives loving each other and maybe loved it even more when it came crashing down. It was interesting to speculate on, to talk about. You saw the softest love in us. In him. And then gutted it out of him like he was a fish.”
You take a deep breath.
“And with that, I quit.”
The interviewer sits up, hand on your shoulder at the piano bench as the shock spreads across her face.
“You’re quitting music?”
“I’m quitting all of it. I don’t want anything to do with this. You already got to have him. You don’t get to have me too.”
You give her a smile as you turn to the camera, before walking straight off of the set and into the waiting room outside.
--
You sit on the bench outside, swinging your legs as you watch the people around you move. They’re all rushing to air the tape, which you expected. And making flash copies of the vinyl you gifted them, getting ready to post them online as the interview goes out.
Figures.
The only person who comes to your side is Leila.
“HI.” you say, cheeks burning from the tears and your eyes swollen.
She hands you the blue box, the one they hid behind the couch at the start, and shakes her head.
You give her a strange look as you open up the box, filled with a large stack of letters. You reach for the one at the top, opening the pages to find Eren’s messy handwriting scribbled on the pages.
Dear The Institute (I don’t know if you’re a person or like someone specific I’m just writing a letter to the address Levi gave me), My name is Eren Jaeger. I’m fifteen, the son of Carla and Grisha Jaeger. I’m going to be in a new show called Attack on TItan. But that’s not why I’m writing to you. I want to tell you about my friend, my best friend. Her name is Y/N L/N. She’s going to be my co-star in the show. You haven’t heard of her yet but I promise you won’t forget her. And I’ll make sure you won’t. Because I’m telling you now, she’s the next big thing. And you’re going to make her a triple threat. I’ll spend this entire time convincing you until you do. But she’s amazing. It won’t take much. You will hear from me again, Eren Jaeger
You pull another page out, opening up the crinkled pages, the block sitting in your throat.
Hi (Can you tell me your name? It feels weird to call you The Institute. Like that’s almost dystopian.) It’s Eren, again. Y/N is going to perform her song, New Year’s Day at the award show tomorrow. It’s her first one and it’s perfect. Like genuinely, who the fuck makes a hit song on the first try? And even after making something great, she’s trying to be better. She doesn’t like to play the piano, but she tries anyway. Every time I try to teach her, she’s hanging on the ends of my words, trying over and over again until she’s satisfied. She works very hard. I’m asking you to not overlook that. See you soon (and when’s your birthday? We’re basically becoming friends at this point.) Eren Jaeger
You flip the pages, again.
Good morning/good afternoon/good evening (covering all my bases, I don’t know where you live), Now, don’t start discrediting what I’m saying as biased because of the rumors. Granted, they are true. I adore Y/N with my entire heart. I love her with every fiber of my being. But that doesn’t discredit any of her work or how I’m vouching for it. Because she truly is amazing. Her new movie is coming out on Saturday and her album on Sunday. Quit being assholes and give her this award already. She deserves it. Really. My deepest apologies (for calling you assholes and for bothering you all these years), Eren Jaeger
And again.
Hi, We broke up. And we don’t really talk much anymore. But the fact that I’m still writing this to you should be proof enough for you to at least CONSIDER her as a triple threat. Like seriously. We aren’t even dating and I’m still raving about her work (because it’s that good). Her new movie comes out soon. She is all things great. The sun, the moon, the stars and everything in between. The light in the dark, every cheesy thing you can think of. Art is a reflection of who you are. And her art has always been the best. For the love of god, give in already, Eren Jaeger.
And the last one, despite being the shortest one, is what hurts the most. Dated for the day after the awards show, what you assume is barely hours after Eren was sobbing during your performance.
Dear The Institute, Thank you for listening. And for making her dream come true. Best, Eren Jaeger
You hold the letters close to your chest as you cry into the box, nearly twenty or thirty pages you still haven’t read. Of Eren, his messy handwriting, and his endless love for you.
His words ring in your mind. They don’t make any sense and none of it does. You didn’t have any faith in me like I did you. Your parents weren’t famous and you had no ins. I have to do something to offset that if you’re my co-star. I’m not lying to you when I’m trying to make you feel better or tell you that you’re great. Maybe Hange and Levi are, but I’m not. I’ve always thought you were great.
You sit up from the bench and walk out the door with the box in your hand. You find Falco and Colt standing on the curb against the car, soft smiles on their faces as they push you into the car. And take you where no one gets to touch you, suck you dry, push you too hard, take what you love most away from you ever again.
Your most haunted memory sticks out to you as you drive away. As you feel the physical weight of this life be left behind on that piano and let him go.
The waves continue to crash, Eren’s hand raking through your fingers as you both look up at the moon, shining above you.
“Y/N.”
“Yes, Eren?”
“Have you ever been skinny dipping?”
You curl your nose in disgust.
“When would I have time to go skinny dipping, Eren? And if I did, you would have known.”
Eren turns on his side, a bright smile on his face.
“Let’s do it.”
“What?”
“Skinny dipping.”
“Eren. Quit being ridiculous.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I just turned twenty-two. Like fifteen minutes ago. I am the pinnacle of seriousness.” he states, putting on his best Erwin-like tone.
“Eren.”
“Come on. It’s like a quintessential experience. We don’t get those - prom, memorizing your crush’s classes and waiting outside them, going on a date in the city. Let’s do this one.”
You nod as you both trudge to the shore, hands locked together as you quickly lose your clothes and run into the water, biting cold against your skin. The Seattle cold does nothing to help, the two of you shivering in each other's arms as you hold each other in the water.
“Ttt-this was a sss-stuppid idea, Er-rren.” you shiver, glaring at him.
“It-it’s ff-un.” he responds.
You groan as he pulls you into his arms, your face flat against his neck as you guys hug in the water. You can feel his heart beating under your ear and you pull back to find him smiling at you, his hair matted against his forehead. You reach forward and push it out of his eyes.
“Thanks.” he whispers.
You nod, giving him a smile. He’s all but grinning at you, the smile on his face so big that it’s throwing you off.
“Eren. What?”
“Nothing. You.”
“Me?”
He nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Just trying to remember this moment. You and me - being real people.”
“You sound like a crazy person.”
“You’re not a pop star. I’m not an actor. You’re Y/N and I’m Eren. We’re skinny dipping. And I love you.”
You turn your head to the side, confused by his sentiment all together.
It makes sense to you now.
--
Almost a year and a half later and you’re nervously running your sweaty hands against the pleats of your black dress. You half debate walking in, even though you flew all this way. If there’s still a place for you in this townhouse, even though you all but grew up here.
You can hear a loud chatter on the inside, voices talking over each other as you think hard, every regret of yours running through your mind. You wonder if they replaced you already, if your doppelganger is walking around in there.
As always, this is what brings you back to them. All of them. And you hate it. Because as always, they are the only ones who understand. They are the only ones who feel it too.
You’re fish. On the same side of the glass, separated from everyone else.
You supposed that’s what it does to people. That being fish, to some extent, was something everyone related to - not just you and Eren, Mikasa and Jean, everyone else who was famous.
This tears down things that were a resolute fact - bringing you to places you never thought you’d return, to people you didn’t think you would ever need anymore. A fishbowl - separating you from everyone else on one side of the glass, with everyone else - normal and whole - on the outside.
Fame can do that to people. But grief can too.
The news clip rings in your head.
.
.
.
Marco Bodt, best known for his time as a recurring character in the drama series Attack on Titan, died on Friday, five days short of his twenty-fourth birthday.
You brace yourself and knock on the door of the townhouse. Eren’s the one who answers.
--
next part linked here
an: lol. so does "passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long" still apply if he's dead....thoughts? also the lucky one tracklist
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#seeingivywrites!#method acting#eren#eren x you#eren x reader#eren x y/n#eren jaeger#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger x y/n#eren yeager#eren yeager x you#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager x y/n#actor eren#actor eren x you#actor eren x reader#actor eren x y/n#aot actor au#aot#aot x you#aot x reader#aot x y/n#snk#snk x you#snk x reader#snk x y/n#eren angst
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