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barbies1shots · 5 months ago

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part3 of toxic!sukuna , prt1 , prt2

this one is kinda freaky..

not proof read

@hazzelle-kento for the idea !! thank you😉 this might turn into a series ..

☆- predator/pray dynamics , size kink , overstim (cant help myself) , stalking , fem!waitress!reader, batshit crazy!sukuna, slight misogyny , degradation, non-con>dub-con , possessive themes , body shaming , hair pulling , name calling , unprotected secs (wrap your willy pls)

thinking about toxic!sukuna and his inability to keep you off his mind. the way you cuss him out because he didn't put up dishes like you asked. or the way you stare him down when he doesn't take his shoes off before entering the house.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who denies that you actually want to break up with him. who said you couldnt break up with him.

why would you break up with him when he didn't do anything?

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is just so unaware of the toxic things he did. restricting what you wear and who you go out with. lashing out at you when he asked a simple question. brushing you off when he came back late and smelled like alcohol.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who told you a top looks horrible on you. that it wasn't your color, and it was too tight, making you look fat. all because he wanted you to change.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who heard your sniffles from the other room but wanted to hear more of them. just because he's mean

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is in denial and in complete confusion when you put a restraining order on him

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who claims he never put any hands on you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who quite literally has internal conflicts on what to do. leave you alone, let you have your space youve been complaining about or come pounding on your door and fuck you to sleep.

thinking about toxic!sukuna who wouldn't respect any boundaries you've made and would invade your personal space.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who would contact you even when you blocked him on everything. instagram, SMS, twitter, tiktok, snapchat, facebook, google chat, EMAIL, yet the man still finds a way to messsge you.

' you still mad ? '

thinking about toxic!sukuna who doesn't care about your feelings at all. about how he only wants you for your mind- or for your body.

thinking about toxic!sukuna would try and corner you on your way back from a third shift at your work.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who literally dreams about chasing you and making you love him again.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who tries to explain that he's right wrong and that he only wants you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who wants to be in every part of your mind. he wants to corrupt you, break you in, and make you maleable. just for him and his dirty pleasures.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who succeeds in his dreams of chasing you.

why would you ever want to run from him?

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who chased you down the alleyway with you screaming at him to leave you alone.

☆

"get the hell away from me, you damn psychopath! youre fucking crazy! you stalk me, message me, call me- i dont want anything to do with you, Ryomen!" the sounds of your shrill voice bounce off the dry walls on either side of you.

he followed you from your work to the little 'short-cut' home, and now he got you cornered in a deadend. you had black wedges and a skirt on- courtesy of your uniform regulations.

of course, he knew where you worked, why wouldnt he?

"come back baby, you know better." he snickered. his taller form was hiding by the darkness of the alleyway as it was well past 11PM.

you shuffled through your purse in search of something to defend yourself. pepper spray, a pocket knife, maybe keys. but came up empty.

why would you need to defend yourself anyway?

it sounded like his footsteps got closer as your movements were more frantic in trying to find something to fight Ryomen off with. you hand came in contact with your phone, and you raised it above your head before looking up and straight into the eyes of the devil himself.

"what are you looking for-" he asked in your face, his breath washed over you. as your nerves spiked, you threw your hand down so your phone came in contact with his forhead. "argh- you stupid cunt!" he grunted out as his face contorted in straight fury and disbelief.

did you... just strike him?

you stomped on his foot with your heel, and you earned another pained groan. you immediately went around him to run off, run into someone to help you, run into the light- something. you ran, your wedges rendering your full ability to move, but you had to make due.

your phone layed cracked at the back of the alleyway but atleast you had your purse? the entrance of the alleyway came closer than before, and you made it about 2 full steps into the light of the streetlight before a rough hand pulled you back by the hair.

"no- no, oh my damn, let go, Ryomen!" you screamed in frustration. his other hand came in, covered your mouth before taking your struggling body and pushing you against the wall.

why would he let you go when he just got you back?

he held you there, his face red and burning by the way you swung at him without hesitation. his eyes didnt lie, and they were filled with hatred but longing.

"youre mine, im not letting you go." he growled into your face after his let his stinging grip away from your hair. his hand ran down his face and he sighed loudly, "you are just as predictable as any other woman." he looked bored.

"you hit me, step on my foot, and then try to run?" he asked. your eyes stung when he pressed your head harder into the concrete wall.

"sounds like you need to lean your place again, yeah?" he concluded.

his hand moved from covering your mouth to grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to look at him. "been out of check for a while. ignoring me, blocking me, avoiding me, wanting to take a break from me? i think you have lost your mind, baby" he said as his fingers forced their way more into your skin.

"leave me alone-!" you tried to say before he pushed you roughly on the ground, you hit your tail bone, and he came in between your distraught legs and leaning over you. his rough hands came in contact with your body, tugging and pulling on your clothes. he ripped your blouse, and the bottons popped everywhere. he flipped uo your skirt so the waist band was up your tummy.

why would he leave you alone when you just look edible.

"ryomen- i asked you for a break for a reason!" you screamed at him as you tried to cover your body. you tried to grasp the last bits of your dignity, but as soon as he cupped your cunt through your underwear, it was left for good.

why would you ever want a break from him..?

the chase from the back of the alleyway and the adrenaline from him holding you against the wall made you wet. it turned you on that he was willing to chase and catch you.

he smirked as he slid your underwear to the left and slid a thick finger in between your soaked fold before finding your clit and pressing harshly into the little nub.

"uhh-" you groaned at the feeling, he went hard and rough, not caring if it didnt hurt or not. you squirmed as your hips jerked and tried to scoot away from the stimulation.

he put his other hand on your hip, pulling you close as his fingers dipped lower and probbed at your entrance. "youre about to be in for a ride, you little bitch." he growled and forced his two dry fingers into your cunt, immediately finding your g-spot and abusing it.

your back arched as your thighs came up to your chest and closed around his arm, "Ryomen- please! I cant do this.." you whined out as your hips grinded against his fingers.

he smirked over you as you whined and arched your back, "cmon' cunt- cum for me" he demanded. he pressed a thumb into your clit, rubbing it as he fucking your cunt wet.

as you were recovering from one of your intense orgasams, he looked over you. his eyes drifted from your blissed out face to your shivering torso to your trembling thighs and hips. he licked your liquids from his fingers and slotted himself between your thighs.

why would you ever leave him when he is just perfect for you?

"time for the main event, yeah baby?" he snickered and started unbuckling his pants, unzipping them and pulling his underwear under his ballsack. he grabbed your calf and held it up by his head as he leaned in and stuffed his face into your sweaty neck.

his large mushroom tip nudged your entrance, and you tensed up as he started to push in. he was reforming your insides just to match around him, "cmon, whore... take it all.." ryomen groaned into your neck. he resisted the urge to bite into you as he listened to your sobs.

he raised back on his haunches when he bottomed out and quickly set a rough pace. your pleas and little whines only egging him further the more your worked up.

he let go of your leg to rest on his shoulder and started to grope your tits, kneeding them in one hand while tweaking one in another.

"youre being rough, ryomen! ugh- be gentle.." you whimpered. he shook his hand as he smirked and started to actually plunge into you. thrusting his hips and pulling you back by your tits as leverage.

plap! plap! plap! was the wet sounds of his balls hitting your ass.

he only sped up as he got lost in the pleasure, chasing his and fucking you complete stupid. your neck stretched as you felt another orgasm take over you and your mind felt blank. only thinking about ryomen, ryomen, dick, dick, ryomen.

he saw your face and shook his head and took one hand from your tits to the front of your head and forced your head to look at where hes fucking you open at. your back in an awkward yet painful position as you started to groan.

"you can't escape me, your morsel. you belong to me! i will kill you before you ever get any other thoughts of trying to leave me again. I control you. You are mine."

left unfinished cs ive gotten lazy and unmotivated. let me know what you think !!

toxic!sukuna part 1

toxic!sukuna part 2

revenge on toxic!sukuna

@aizawasbarb

#sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #toxic sukuna smut #toxic sukuna #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen x you #ryomen smut #jujustu kaisen x reader smut #toxic jjk #toxic x reader #sukuna x black reader #x black reader

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theodorecanaryhood · 11 months ago

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Protective, possessive and Passionate

Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Warning: swearing, drinking and sex

It was no secret that your boyfriend, Jason, is extremely protective of you. He likes to make sure you’re safe, even if he is in the line of fire, he also wants you to always remember that you’re his.

‘See how that looks’ Jason turned your face a little so you could see clearly the red mark on your neck.

Jason always marked his territory for other men to see, for them to know you’re off limits.

Jason drove you to work, holding your hand in his, you never complained and always thought it cute. A guy as big as Jason, to be so needy and like a puppy at times.

‘Have a great day, love you’ Jason spoke softly as he kissed you.

‘Bye, love you too’ you replied as you got out of the car.

Your work day was filled with the usual nonsense that entails. Making you spend all of your working hours wishing for some sleep.

Everyone has that part of the day that they dread, yours happened to be a coworker. Adam. He never left the fact he likes you hidden.

‘Hey, how was your weekend?’ He asked, smiling at you.

‘Hey, it was fine. Had dinner with my boyfriend’s family. Yours?’ You asked to be polite, not really caring about the answer.

Adam knew that you have a boyfriend, but he never seemed to care. He still tried to get it on with you.

He’d worked there for about a year now and still took every chance he could, as it was coming up to the office work party, you prayed that Jason could make it.

Perhaps the size of Jason would make Adam back off, Jason is big dude and can be pretty scary at times.

Jason held onto your thigh as you both watched Netflix, the newest show you both thought to watch sucked you right in.

‘Shall we go to bed?’ Jason asked as the credits began to roll, you sleepily nodded.

Getting into bed with Jason was always something amazing, he would hold onto you so tight.

The huge puppy that is Jason liked to hold onto you all night. Never letting you out of his sight, or his grip.

You hadn’t let it bother you too much, you were just thankful that Jason was able to come with you. Protect from the lustful eyes of Adam.

Jason knelt onto the floor as he found your shoe laces were coming undone.

‘Hey lovebirds’ your work-bestie, Naomi, smiled as she greeted you both.

Giving you both a hug and a kiss in the cheek, you placed your hand on Naomi’s small baby bump.

‘Not long to go now’ you chuckled as she smiled, lifting her top to show off her new accessory.

The three of you walked into the building together as you found it dimly lit, music playing and a bartender on site already.

‘Thank God, I need a drink’ Jason stated as he made a beeline for the bar.

‘Can I get two whiskeys please? And a lemonade?’ Jason winked as Naomi rolled her eyes with a small smile.

‘Oh fuck’ the words fell out of your mouth like vinegar.

Naomi stroked your arm gently as she blocked you from Adam’s sight.

Jason was aware of what this coworker was doing, but he didn’t know what he looked like. Or if he was coming.

‘Oh hey you, how’s it going?’ Adam cheered as he saw you standing with Naomi.

You smiled as Adam leant towards you, seemingly unaware of the 6ft plus giant next to you both.

‘Another coworker?’ Jason asked curiously, you nodded. Hesitating the next few words.

‘This is Adam’ you took Jason’s hand in yours as you saw his face switch.

The three of you tried your best to stay away from him, but Adam always ended up near you somehow.

‘Hey babe, gotta get going home or I won’t want to get up ever again’ Naomi smiled softly as she gave you a hug.

‘You two rest up’ you winked as Naomi left, all the while with Jason in the bathroom.

This left you alone for a few minutes which you would find scary. You had mental words with yourself, Adam is only a man, nothing more. But he still bothered you.

‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ Adam asked as he came and sat next to you.

You pointed to the bathroom door, Adam only edged closer to you.

You shifted a little in your seat as you felt Adam get closer to you, his body heat felt like it was setting you on fire.

‘You know, four years is a long time to be with one person. Maybe you should have a little break from him. I could show you a good time’ Adam spoke as you felt disgusted.

His words were like venom and you could feel yourself getting close to doing something you’d get into trouble for later.

‘Come on y/n, let’s have some fun while your man isn’t here. He’s a wimp who doesn’t deserve you’ Adam continued.

The smell of Whiskey was strong from Adam’s breath, he’d been drinking tons and not seeming to stop. Though, him drinking didn’t make a difference as he was like this sober.

Before you could say anything in response there was a giant hand that had taken hold of Adam’s shirt collar.

‘Don’t touch my boyfriend again, don’t even look at him. You disrespect him like that, you get me to deal with and I can assure you, you don’t want that’ Jason growled lowly in Adam’s ear.

You could tell from Adam’s face that he was regretting his words, the tower that is Jason was now in his face. Eyes looking deep into his soul.

It was a success as Adam had finally got the message, but Jason was still angry.

Needing to blow off some steam, Jason drove you both home. Jason threw you on the bed when you both got in. Practically lifting you off your feet and carrying you there.

‘Get in all fours for me baby’ Jason said, anger still present but he spoke with love towards you.

Jason wasn’t angry with you, he never could bring himself to be. He was angry that another guy had the audacity to try it with you.

‘Uh’ you called out as Jason slid his length into you, your eyes rolled back.

‘Who does this belong to?’ Jason asked, as he began to find a rhythm.

‘You, Jason. I’m all yours’ you called out, Jason smiled as he gave your asscheek a good slap.

Your phone lit up as it rested next to you in the bed. Jason checked to see it was Snapchat.

Snap from Adam.25 was all it said, Jason smiled to himself as he punched in your code to unlock the phone.

Still with his huge dick deep inside your ass, you were too busy moaning in pleasure to notice what was going on.

Jason snapped you on all fours as Jason hit it from behind, your fingers gripping onto the pillows, you biting your lip to stop yourself from letting out moans.

‘He busy, text back later’ Jason typed into the phone with one hand, clicking send.

Then tossing your phone back where it was as he slammed deeper into you.

‘Fuck, Jason’ you called out as Jason got even deeper.

Safe to say Adam got the message and never tried anything in with you again, he also got a word from HR after a sexual harassment complaint was logged.

You were thankful that Jason could be so Protective, Possessive and also how passionate he is. You would’ve preferred for Jason to not make a statement with you on all fours. But it worked.

You smiled as you fell asleep on Jason’s chest that night, him holding you as he buried himself into a new book.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader

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tojivu · 11 months ago

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nightmares ⋆ nanami kento

an. my finals start in june i'm gonna explode yall

cw. sfw. gn!reader. kento has nightmares and he needs you

playing. oh my god by fog lake.

nanami's been getting more sleep ever since he left jujutsu tech and that shitty nine to five he used to slave at every damn day — along with the fact that he's able to spend more time with you. he likes to say that it helps him sleep, having you within arms reach (something that was extremely rare in the past, considering he had no time to rest).

kento thinks you resemble closely to a human sized pillow, and he often treats you as such. his arms are wrapped around your frame, one of his legs laying on top of yours — his chest rises and falls slowly, small snores leaving his lips — and you're thankful, very thankful; nanami was never able to sleep this soundly when you two lived in tokyo.

you try your best to push his heavy weighted figure away: you groan and complain that he's too big to be sharing this bed with you and that he should be sleeping on the floor instead. yet, you welcome him with open arms every night — pressing kisses to his forehead and running your fingers through his blonde hair.

you'd rather clingy and sleepy nanami who uses you as a personal bolster pillow in the night than sleepless nanami who locks himself away in his office, or exhausted nanami who drags his feet through the entrance of your home with bloodied limbs. it broke your heart more times than you could really count, seeing kento that way.

nanami kento saw his life flash before his eyes in shibuya, and all he could really pray for was to make it out alive so he could see you one last time — even if it were just for a few minutes. he clung desperately onto the last bit of energy and will he had in hopes of making it out alive; even if he was mutilated to a point beyond recognition, he needed to be with you. that was the only way he could let himself go — he would crawl back to your home if it meant he could kiss you one last time.

he never told you how long he'd be gone, or if he'd even come back at all: so you waited anxiously, refreshing news pages and watching the television every night for some sort of good. any sort of indication kento was okay.

he doesn't return home. you only see him when you rush down to the hospital they take him to — barely conscious, holding on to hope he didn't know he still had. nanami regains his full consciousness in the weeks following, the first thing he says being that he's done.

yes, nanami didn't want to risk it. never again.

it's 2 in the morning and you're unable to sleep, nanami's groans and sudden flinches are keeping you up.

"ken?"

the expression on his face is horrific — you feel the guilt wash over you like a wave, high and then crashing; so your fingers find his arms and you try your very best to shake the man awake.

your husband wakes up with a whimper; tired eyes almost brimming with tears at the fact that he is awake and you are real. his mouth is sealed, unable to utter a word, but the way his lips tremble tells you everything he cannot say.

"are you—"

soon, calloused fingers are gripping the flesh of your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. a nightmare, you can already tell: his hands feel clammy and his breathing is laboured.

"ken," you whisper. "'s okay. i'm here."

he sucks air through his teeth, trying to catch his breath. his body shudders at your touch as you graze over his skin — tracing circles on his bare back, your lips on his forehead. kento feels like he's about to cry, but he's not sure from what: at the fact that he had the worst dream of his life, or the fact that he's not dead and you're still here.

"'m s-sorry," he mutters. his voice is strained, still that deep and low tone that you're familiar with — but your heart still breaks as he apologises. "i'm sorry for waking you."

"don't be sorry," you comb your fingers through his hair using your free hand. "you know i don't mind it."

he sniffles and you yearn to hold him even tighter, but you think he would suffer broken ribs if you went through with that; so you settle for his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around his back.

"love you," nanami mumbles, voice getting softer and his grip looser — he feels his heart calm and his mind empty when you touch and hold him just like this. "i love you so much."

nanami wanted to be your protector. he hoped he would be for the remainder of his life — he likes to think he's doing a decent job at it now — but sometimes, it feels as though you are his; you fit awfully well to the title.

he supposes that's why he sleeps longer with you in the same bed as him; it's a peaceful thing knowing you're next to him if he has another bad dream, or if he feels cold and needs your warmth — or if he just wants to lay with you.

"i love you more, ken," you lulled, the tips of your fingernails scratching the skin of his trapezius; he recognises the heart shapes you trace on him. "get some rest."

"okay," he hums, his nose poking at your collarbones — his lips slowly leaving trails of kisses along them. "goodnight, darling."

your lips curl into a smile almost instinctively and you think it's embarassing, but it's much too dark for kento to see you blush at the name he calls you. you're thankful.

"goodnight, baby."

he's thankful that it's close to pitch dark, as well — kento thinks you can't see the smile he has on his face — but what he doesn't realise that you can feel him on your skin; feel the way his cheeks puff and his lips form the small smile you are so familiar with.

090124 — happy new years Tartaglieo fandom my gcse's are upcoming.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader fluff #nanami kento x reader fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk gf

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confused-wanderer · 2 years ago

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How would Jason react, or even know about Bruce nearly killing the joker?

He doesn’t hear it from Damian, Dick nor Barbara. It’s only when a few years have passed and relations between Bruce and him slowly start cooling that he starts being able to return to the Manor more often without feeling pangs of guilt, longing, nostalgia and overall the Lazarus Pit screaming to be let out.

However, he isn’t dumb. Whenever he complains to Tim about how Tim’s been treated better and loved more than he was, he’s quick to notice how Tim’s jaw tenses, with fingers spastic as if they wanted to curl into fists. Nor does he miss what Tim whispers under his breath twenty minutes later.

If only you knew..

Bruce keeps trying to make amends, tries engaging with him face to face before a few bullets got the message across and he retreated. But Jason could still feel him waiting, hovering, for the signal to light up and let him know he was needed.

He could go to hell though.. Every single time he looked at Bruce he felt safe, followed by fierce anger burning through his veins. He hated that he felt at ease when Bruce entered. Hated that he almost fell back into their old banter. Hated that he missed him. Hated that he still trusted him.

Hated that he still loved him.

One night, after giving Bruce the cold shoulder the entire time and watching in satisfaction as Bruce’s shoulder slumped in defeat, he felt the sudden need to comfort him. He’s the batman, he chided himself. If he could get over your death, he can get over this.

Standing out on the balcony, he never spoke to the presence already there.

“Master Jason..”

“Hey Alfred, it’s pretty cold out you sure you’d be fine?”

“I’ve faced worse winters.”

Jason sighed. That old man always had an air of expectancy around him, just like when he was robin, like a mother waiting for their child to tell them what they did wrong.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what the bloody hell you think you’re doing?”

That caught Jason’s attention. Hatred and stoic ness quickly melted and all he could do was stare at him in shock.

“Why are you tormenting him?”

“Are you fucking kidding me??-“ “Language master Jason.”

“Alfred. You were there.”

“There was nothing master Bruce could do to save you-”

“I DONT CARE ABOUT THAT ALFRED! He-“

Shoulders slumped, he looked down.

“He replaced me.” Jason whispered. “He didn’t even wait till my body was cold he just fucking went ahead and replaced me. Even after knowing I died, he still put another child in that suit, MY suit! And then, HE DIDNT EVEN AVENGE ME!! He just took Joker back to Arkham, which is basically just like a vacation for him, and LEFT. After all these-”

A shivering cold current of electricity ran through his body and he could feel the Lazarus Pit rising, making his body grow colder by the second.

“After all this time.. he never did anything.” Jason muttered. “So yeah, not only was knowing I was dead for four years a slap to the face.. but to come back home to find another kid in my room and business as usual? As if I never existed? That just made me realise I didn’t matter.”

CLINK

The tea cup in Alfred’s hands was shaking, and a wave of concern overtook Jason. He was about to reach a hand out to steady it when Alfred put the cup down, sighed and looked at the moon.

“Master Bruce never gave Robin to Tim. I did.”

“.. Come again?”

“I gave it to him myself. After you died.. he was a shell of himself. He started pushing himself more, brutalising criminals to the point of hospitalisation. After you died.. a big part of him did too. He refused to be around people, friends, to be happy, to eat. He was punishing himself for your death by refusing to live. And I never forgot you either my boy.. Every night for months I stood by the windows, staying awake and looking outside..hoping to catch a glimpse of you. For the first time in my life I prayed for you to be beaten and bruised, but alive. Locked myself in your room, in your memories, as if standing over your bed was guarding you even in death..Master Bruce missed you so much he played tapes of your missions, just to hear your laugh.”

The older man shook his head and refused to look at him.

“He rejected Tim, but I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. I’d already lost one son..” Alfred paused, looking at Jason with such fondness and pain. “ I wasn’t going to lose another.”

A long pause lingered in the air, and Jason could hear his heart racing as it processed what he’d heard.

“As for Joker,” Jason looked up, and saw the most terrifying scowl he’d ever seen before, with eyes filled with hatred and a craving for retribution.

“Jason Bruce almost killed him too. Like you said, I was there. I was always there. He had chas- hunted Joker down, torturing him slowly and violently until the air was thick with his screams. How every bone was shattered, with so much blood you couldn’t even tell the tiles underneath were white.”

Alfred closed his eyes, and Jason couldn’t help feel that though he was remembering the scene, he was also reveling in it. “His body shattered, smile gone replaced with pain and the howls of misery that he emitted that night.. alas-”

“He didn’t kill him.”

Alfred’s eyes bore into his, and reflected the darkness of the shimmering sky.

“You’re not hearing me. He damn well nearly did. There are things worse than death in this world and Bruce made sure to make Joker feel every single.one. But Superman.. heard him. He heard the roars of fury and grief, and stopped him. All while Bruce stood over the broken body of what once was human. All while muttering your name over and over again, like it was a prayer that kept him grounded. With every hit he took, with every ounce of pain he delivered, he did it with your name on his lips.”

They both just stood there.. shadows in fading moonlight as the noises of life started waking the world with their song.

“Unfortunately, his voice was recorded on one of those surveillance cameras. Tim wiped it, but we kept one copy.. and though the footage is corrupted, the sound is crystal clear.”

Alfred hesitated, before gently cupping Jason’s hands and placing a cold weight on them.

“I hope you never hear it..my boy. I’d rather you burnt it. But if you want to hear the raw truth.. I wanted you to have proof.”

Sunlight burst through the horizon, and with it came the dawn of a new time.

Jason heard the tape as soon as he left.

And burnt it right after.

Alfred was right.

All he had heard were the guttural cries of a broken man..

A father, grieving for his son.

Jason finding out Dick killed joker post:

#dick grayson #batfam #batfamily #batman #jason todd angst #jason todd robin #batman angst #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #red hood angst #badass Alfred pennyworth

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yourstrqly · 9 months ago

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˗ ˏ ˋ 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓

Pairings : Logan Sargeant x reader (platonic)

in which Logan and you have a day off work in London and decide to go to build a bear, creating each a stuffy for the other as you did as children.

— only friend i need series

"Come on Logs, live a little", you said, pressing the blonde to agree to your spontaneous idea of the day. "it's a fantastic idea, I always have those, and i still can't believe you've lived here for what? Two years now? and still didn't do it. shame, mate."

Said man, who sat opposite of you, took another bite of his somewhat healthy breakfast choice his trainer would've had a wet dream about, all while starring in disbelief at you, the one who's bright smile focused on the plate of waffles, covered in strawberries and cream.

He shallowed, opening his mouth to disagree with the idea but nothing came to his mind, letting you grin in excitement. "I— well, fine, but don't you think we're a bit too old for build a bear, y/n?"

"Buh, since when do we do age appropriate stuff?", you questioned, thinking back about the many times you rode rollercoasters for children, watched movies in the cinema for zero to six years old and did other things people considered then to be made for children. "it's cute, saw a tiktok about it."

"You and your tiktok obsession — when did you even watch it? We were out all day yesterday."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Are you that old, sargeant? You were in the gym after we had lunch at mine."

"Yeah true", the man sheepishly agreed, remembering the cardio and weight session, before his blue eyes brightened, signaling you that he had an idea — for the better or worse, you never knew with him.

"Please enlighten me, what's on your mind?"

Logan's smile widened, pupils blooming. "How about I build you a stuffy and you for me like we did when we were younger?"

"Yes please, that has to the best idea you've had in a while, Logs", you giggled. "Let's eat and then we'll make our way there, its in that mall not so far away from here."

With that, you both ate in silence, listing to the gossip around you — an older woman complained to her son about back pain, a couple fought about having another baby (the woman didn't want another one while the man was adapt on growing the family) and a man in his forties tried to flirt with the waiter —, Logan and you sent each other looks and quirked eyebrows, whenever the topic grew hotter and juicier.

As you shallowed the last bite of your delicious breakfast, Logan already waved the waiter over to pay for today's expenses — since both of you worked, you took turns with the payment, even though the racer tried to take the check whenever you were eating in a somewhat bougier place, saying that he made more and wanted to be a gentleman which would get him a snort out of you or a slap on the arm. not that it hurt him, you liked to think the hits had to be gently because of his worth for Williams.

After the blonde had paid, he impatiently stood up, holding out his hand for helping you to stand up. "Let's go, y/n, we don't have all day."

You let go off his hand, pressing a finger to your forehead. "Don't know why I keep up with you, you're acting like a kid in a hardware store. i'm praying for Alex and his patience."

"Hey, I'm not that bad", your friend shrieked, pulling your head into am armlock to rub your hair which he knew you didn't enjoy at all — you weren't a pet, you'd tell him.

"You're a shithead, have I ever said that to you?", you grumbled as you freed yourself from his strong grasp.

"And you're what? a Saint?", a snort escaped the man's throat, pushing you lightly forward to continue your way to the destination. "cause I don't think so, you're as bad as me, that's why we're friends."

Once again you grumbled under your breath but decided to just walk, letting Logan rant about his trip to New York with Williams and the training camp that was held in Miami.

When you arrived at the mall, you've heard all about his recent work experience, Alex's stories about his holidays and a new recipe Logan's mom came up (it didn't sound but why was she adapt to add pumpkin to the dish?).

"Look logs, there it is", you pointed out, gaze hazy with childish excitement. You intertwined your hand with his, dragging him inside the colourful store to the yet lifeless bodies of stuffies — there was the classic Teddy in a few shades of brown, forest and savanna animals as well as movie characters like yoda, stich and hedwig, Harry Potter's beloved owl.

you truly were in paradise. "Oh look, it's an eagle, that's so American, so you", a booming laughter fell from your lips, winning the attention of a mother daughter duo next to you, causing you to blush and Logan to pinch your side.

alas, your friend had enough of you, so therefore he left your side to explore the many options the shop had in stock. You didn't see his pick as your only matter was to fulfil the task of finding the right stuffy for logan and putting it in clothing.

In the end you decided on a cute black alpaca and put it in a white cargo trousers combined with a multicoloured party shirt and some blue jeans jacket, letting yourself be inspired by the clothing styles of Logan and George Russell's invention of white pants and a williams team shirt as a williams driver's standard uniform — you'd switch up the party shirt as soon as you'll get a hang out of sewing to make a mini williams shirt but for now the alpaca was going to own the shirt as did logan in the summer when you both went out for a wild night back home.

As you put the heart and the small voice box thingy in the stuffy, a small happy tear rolled down your cheek; you chose to say two things: the first one was the viral meme of him being American, silently screaming rwahh what the fuck is a kilometre and the second was a sweet message to cheer him up, hopefully, whenever he felt bad and you'd be out of his reach — a small fracture of yourself, reminding him of his greatness and uniqueness, and that he was loved and cheered. You were a sentimental being, no shame whatsoever, even though your friend sometimes liked to tease you about it, causing you to clap back — it was just that kind of friendship where you could let lose, be yourself without further worries nor feeling embarrassed or awkward.

When Logan finally got to you — you had waited for him outside of the mall, leaning on the car as you had texted him, and bought two cups of coffee at the small café on the opposite side of the build a bear shop— you gave him the box, containing the alpaca, wearing a silly expression on your face, which Logan mirrored.

"Let's see, if you still know me after seeing the whole wide world without me", you joked, silly smile morphing in a naughty grin on your lips.

"As if I could forget you, stinks."

"Maybe I should return it, you don't deserve it—"

"Hey, I don't do anything wrong", he exclaimed, making grabby hands to get the stuffy.

"Mister Sargeant, you are a liar and a very bad one at that", you tsked him. "Haven't we already said that we refer to call me stinks? the name should be buried six foot deep next to—"

"Don't you dare, y/n."

"I definitely should tweet the nickname, your colleagues would eat it up, don't you think so?", you giggled gleefully, remembering how you called him as you were two young children, running around the neighbourhood to terrorise them.

"And that's why I don't take you with me", he mumbled under his breath, holding out his hand where the stuffy box hang off. "Here we go, silly, hope you like it."

Slowly, you opened the box and the sight of your favourite animal greeted you, wearing the cutest hogwarts robes of your house. "Aw Logs, it's so pretty and fluffy. I love it." Gently you pressed you face against the small head of the stuff toy, enjoying the cozy texture of it and closed your eyes, salivating the moment.

After a moment, the blonde man enclosed you in a hug. "the alpaca's lovely, y/n/n. Best idea we had in a while."

"yeah true", you agreed, returning the hug.

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #logan sargeant #formula one imagine

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eywahasheardyou · 2 years ago

Text

One Last Promise

Pairings: Sully Family x Reader, Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader

Wordcount: 1.3k words

They say when you have finished your purpose in the living world, Eywa will welcome you back to where you once came. From her loving embrace to that of a mother, awaiting for her child to come back to her once their day was over and the dusk sets.

Your father, the Toruk Makto, the leader of your clan, had always told you that death takes everyone without even a warning. May it be a toddling child or a withering old man. Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, he would always say. And when he repeats that phrase, he had a wistful look in his eyes, lips pressed firmly against each other as he clutched the metal pendant that you were once told belonged to his brother.

You knew death would come for you sooner or later. The looming threat of it would often cross your mind once in a while but you knew it was always in your father’s. A hardened soldier like him had crossed death’s path, and death would greet him. Through the empty eyes of his fallen comrades. It’ll come knocking, and you’d have no choice but to answer. Your father just wanted to shield you from that. From the horrors of war. That was what you kept telling yourself anyway as you had watched him become hardened by countless battles, your older brothers being the brunt of his fears of losing the one thing he had worked so hard to get. A family. One that was his to protect.

You gazed at your father’s still form, his wrinkled face scrunched up as tears rolled down his cheeks, desperately trying to cover the wound that tainted your blue skin crimson. His hands were shaky, you could feel it against your skin as he pressed his hands on your chest, desperately putting pressure on the wound that just didn't seem to run out of blood.

A cry escaped you and it took all of Jake’s strength to not pull away. This was saving you. He needed to do this. He needed to keep you alive.

“Daddy..?” You mustered up the strength to mumble, praying to Eywa to give you a few more moments surrounded by the warmth of your family. A warmth you knew deep down, you would never feel again.. not in this life anyway.

“I’m right here, baby girl. I’m right here..” Your lips weakly quirked up into a grin at the familiar pet name that you had once complained was childish.

Your ears twitched like they always did when your father called you that, it was almost always followed up with a scowl and a whine. But now that you are at death’s door steps, you can only smile.

You lifted your hand up to gently cup your father’s cheek, trying to remember the way his skin felt against your palm. You often described it as ‘prickly like a cactus’, a plant from earth your father described to you once. “Daddy.. I.. When ‘m gone.. y-you.. you go easy on the boys, okay? ‘S not their fault..” You could feel the iron on your tongue and you coughed, trying to breathe despite your lungs vehemently complaining. “Don’t you blame ‘em, daddy.. ‘m gonna be angry if you do..”

“Hey, hey look at me, look at daddy, babygirl.. you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’ll live, yeah? You’ll live.. we’re gonna go home after this. Back to Mo’at, okay? Back to the forest.” His large hand cupped your face, moving some stray hair strands.

Jake shook his head as he held you close, your life flashing in his eyes. His fondest memory of watching you claim your own ikran, one that closely resembled the one that he used to have and he firmly believed that your ikran was of Toruk’s own clutch. He flew with you that day, side by side as you soared through the heavens with cries of victory.

You had so much ahead of you. You were going to grow right in front of his very eyes, have so many adventures to go through, and when you’re old enough.. he could see being by your side as you’d introduce your other half. And he would play the part of the tough dad that wouldn’t give his daughter away but he knew deep down he’d be happy that you were happy.

And the promises of your future was slipping through his fingers.

As your skin grew cold and clammy, Jake realized that he would never see that. He would never see you live the life that you deserved. One that knew only of peace. And for once, the great Toruk Makto wept as he pulled you closer, cradling you in his arms as if it was the day Eywa blessed him and Neytiri with you all over again.

“Please, please..” He had begged, lifting his head up to look at the stars before his eyes flickered back to you. Eywa, oh eywa, please not his daughter. Not his little girl.

“Daddy.. p-promise me, please.. ‘s not their fault, daddy..” A gargled choke from your own blood made him hold you tighter, shaking his head as he heard your whimpers of pain. You mustered up your strength to say these words, knowing well that when you return to Eywa, your passing would devastate your family. You didn’t want your father to blame your big brothers for something they could not control.

“I promise, I promise.” He says quickly as he craned his head to look at you, blinking his eyes to get rid of the tears that blurred his vision. “You’re going to be okay, baby.” He refused to. He was begging, desperately pleading inwardly that Eywa would take him instead of you. “I’m.. I’m gonna pick you up, okay? Stay with me.” He carefully held you securely in his arms, looking over at Lo’ak and Neteyam, whose sullen expressions and once vibrant eyes became dull as tears rolled down their cheeks. Never did they think they would be in this situation, their hands stained with their baby sister’s blood.

“C’mon, Lo’ak.. N-Neteyam.. Help me out. We’re gonna take your sister back to the village...” He tried not to let his voice shake. He had to be strong. “Neteyam! Lo’ak! Please.. Help me..” He tried again, voice laced in desperation when the two had yet to move, their eyes never leaving your form.

Your gaze never left your father’s face, trying to memorize every inch of the man who had loved and took care of you. Not Toruk Makto. Not Jake Sully of Earth. But your father.

A soft smile graced your lips and suddenly all the pain left you as quick as it had come. Then there was peace.

It was Lo’ak who noticed your sudden silence and he was quick to grasp onto your hand. “[Name]..?” His brows furrowed at the coldness of your palm and he felt his throat go dry and the tears poured down his cheeks as he pressed his cheek against your palm, shaking his head as Neteyam joined him, sobbing as he held his brother close.

“[Y/N]… No, no, no. [Y/N]!” Neytiri shook you in your father’s arms, shaking her head as if in disbelief. A gut wrenching cry escaped your mother’s throat as her shaky hands roamed over your face, those eyes that used to look at her with such fondness and admiration had lost all it’s life.

Jake could feel the warmth of your body retreating, your limbs limp and your body pale. He tilted his head to the sky, asking the Great Mother why she would take his little girl. Why you? It should’ve been him. He dug his sharp fangs on his lip, biting back the cry of anguish that threatened to claw its way out of his throat, though it only increased the pressure in his chest and with one last look at your face, your dull eyes gazing at the sky, he let out a desperate cry. He cradled you to his chest, face pressed against your hair as he sobbed.

When eclipse broke, and the battle for Pandora had ended for now, your family sat on one of the rocky shores of Three Brothers’ Rock, holding one another close in this time of grief.

They mourned for the life you would’ve lived, mourned for what could’ve been, what would’ve been, and what should’ve been. They mourned you.

Author’s Notes: Inspired by @missroro ’s prompt. I hope I did it justice. I haven’t written in a year and my English is not very good, please excuse me for any grammar mistakes. Let me know what you think of this lil one shot! Kiveyame.

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jellyfishoreo1206 · 1 year ago

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I really wasn't expecting so many people to like my Mirage x reader so much! I'm glad you guys liked it!

Though this is a rewrite, because I accidentally deleted the original. I'm still a little salty about it but it's whatever

Though there will be a small few changes that aren't updated in the part 1, but nothing much, just how the text will be colored. And some inconsistent POV changes

Y/N-Pink

Mirage-Blue

Noah-Orange

But anyway, here's part two!

Part one is here btw

Meeting Mirage ;)

Warnings: Suggested drug usage, language

"So is there a reason why we're walking instead of taking your car?" Currently right now, Y/N, who was about to go to bed several minutes ago, is now walking the empty streets of Brooklyn with Noah right beside her. And in addition of that, a blindfold for some reason that she's still trying to figure out. It was nearly midnight and this man literally just told her he had something important to show her. Many questions asked, and no answers yet.

He just kept responding with, 'you'll see when we get there', which is slowly starting to tick her off. And to make it just a little worse, she's still in her PJ's, a black tank top, some baggy white sweatpants that aren't even hers, and some worn out spiderman slippers. And it's fucking cold.

"It's close by, not even that long of a walk."

"It better be, because I swear to God Noah if whatever you're about to show me is something stupid I'm going to fucking kick you."

"I swear it's not."

"Also why did it have to be at night? Why not early in the morning?!"

"Because it couldn't wait until early in the morning!"

"Mhm, yeah right. You didn't even let me have time to put on a jacket. It's fucking cold."

"It's summer."

"You know how cold I am naturally!"

"Wouldn't be surprised if you were a lizard."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm just befriending you so I can slowly take over humanity! Maybe so I can lick all the things I want without getting weird looks from people because it'll all be lizards!"

It was quiet for a moment, before the pair started to laugh at the comment. Sometimes they can't take each other seriously. It's always one of the two that makes the most random comments to ever been said.

"I'll get you some of those croissant thingys from that bakery you like. As a, 'Sorry for dragging you out of your apartment to show you something' apology."

"You better, you mother fucker...and bring some milk too."

"You're the only person I know that likes milk as a beverage."

"Hey! You can make all kinds of shit out of milk! It's not weird to like it as a beverage. Hell, you were drinking it out of your mother once!"

"Never say that sentence ever again."

Sooner or later, they finally arrived at their destination. With the jingling of keys, Noah unlocks a door before gently pulling her into the building. She was immediately hit with the smell of oil, the fumes of paint, and the smell of gas. Wherever they are, Y/N's guessing they're in Noah's garage.

Now, Noah was nervous, the whole entire time they walked here, he was fidgeting with his finger every so often. He fears how his best friend will react to Mirage, and hoping, hoping it's a good reaction. Though, it might be a small chance, but that's not stopping him from praying to the point someone passing by will probably think he's a little crazy.

"Heyyy you're back! And you brought the pretty lady too~" Now Y/N wasn't expecting another person to be here. She thought it would just be the two of them. Not that she was complaining, maybe this important thing needed someone to look after it so it wouldn't break or something.

Though in reality, it's a huge 12ft robot chilling on the floor, waiting for the both of them. But she doesn't know that. Yet.

"Y/N, I want you to me-"

Noah was cut off by Mirage, a pout on his face as he crosses his arms. "Nu uh man! Lemme have this one!" He quickly clears his throat, with a flirtatious smirk replacing that pout in seconds.

"The names Mirage, bonita~ But you can call me yours~" There was a playfulness in his tone, and to Y/N, he seemed very confident and outgoing. Maybe a little flirty, but that's fine with her. Though he does sound rather young, maybe around the same age as Noah? (I don't know how old he is, but I'm guessing maybe around 19-21, also reader is like 6 years older than Noah) And what a strange name, maybe it's a nickname he likes to go by.

"That's the most cheesiest line I've ever heard in my entire life." Y/N let's a chuckle slip through, snapping out of her little mind rant, a small smile making it's way onto her lips.

"Hey I spent a good amount of time on that! Plus, it's not that cheesey.."

"..Was that too cheesey?"

"Dude you're the one who came up with it, not me."

"But you're supposed to be my wingman here! I scratch your back, you scratch mine." There was a small stare down between the two, before Noah sighed.

"...okay maybe it was a little too cheesey-"

"I may not be able to see, but you guys are horrible at whispering."

Y/N was still standing somewhat next to Noah, arms crossed over her chest as she waited for their so called secret conversation to be over with. All the things she wants do is to go to sleep and enjoy her day-off the next day. That's all she asks for.

"Anyway, what's that important thing you wanted to show me, Noah?" She goes to remove the blindfold, but was stopped by a frantic Noah holding her wrists in a soft, but firm, grip.

"Shit! S-Sorry, it's just.." Noah sighs out in frustration, letting go of Y/N's wrists. "I gotta tell you something before I show you the thing." Said woman raised her brow at Noah's behavior. Now's she getting a little worried for what the hell Noah might show her.

"It's.. It's not something illegal, right?"

"No!" He pauses for a few seconds, "At least I don't thin-"

"NOAH-??"

"Right. So, uh, I think it's best if you just..see for yourself?"

"Why do you sound so unsure." Finally glad to be able to take off the damn fabric, Y/N looks at her surroundings, blinking rapidly to adjust her eyes. Her suspicions of being in Noah's garage was correct. But what she wasn't expecting was a huge metal being sitting in the middle of the room, optics on her with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Hey~"

It takes a few seconds before her mind could catch up, her expression blank. When the scene in front of her processed completely, she immediately turned around, walking towards the door with fast and hurried steps.

"Nope. Nu-uh. Not dealing with this shit tonight. Fuck this shit. I'm out. Peace. Adíos. Goodbye forever. So lon-"

"Y/N wait c-come back!"

"And I will walk 500 miles, and I'll walk 500 more-" Grabbing onto the handle, she tries to open it. Only thing was the door jammed repeatedly. "Fucking shit."

"Ouch, they never treated E.T like this." He pouts, dramatically putting the back of his hand to his forehelm. Now he was kind of expecting her to scream or least for her to faint, but this reaction was more amusing.

"Just let me, uh, us explain-!" Noah forcefully put himself between Y/N and the door, holding out his arms so she wouldn't try to go around. A staredown ensues.

"Please..?" Shrugging his shoulders a little with an unsure smile on his face, his attempt to make himself as convincing as possible. With a sigh, she nods, backing away from the door with slight hesitation. Turning back to the robot in question, Mirage has a bubbly smile on his face, optics lighting up.

"There you go! I ain' gonna hurt you," The mech coos teasingly. "Quite a show you put up though, ever thought of doing stand-up comedy?"

Y/N was still a bit tense, looking at the bot in caution. She doesn't even know what to do in a kind of situation like this. Hell, what do you even do in a kind of situation like this?

But despite that, Noah seems to know, Mirage was his name? He seems to know him pretty well, from how well Noah and him seem to get along. It actually explains a lot of things, that you didn't realize until then. How Noah seemed to be very secretive whenever it came to his garage, and seemed to be somewhat cautious whenever someone looks through his things.

"It's okay mami, you can admire this handsome face as long as you like~" Mirage's flirtatious voice broke you out of your mind ramble, a blush covering your face in an instant. You spaced out without realizing it.

"S-shit my bad."

"Heyy, it's alright~ Not often you come across a face like this!" He sticks his glossa out, making a peace sign with his servos as he winks at her. It, oddly made him cute. A small chuckle comes out of the woman, posture now slightly relaxed a little more, but still tense. Thinking this was a dream, she goes to pinch her arm as hard as she can, but no it's no dream. Maybe she had to much edibles before going to bed, and she was just in the streets all sluggish and her mind is throwing delusions at her, just for entertainment. Like a jester of sorts.

But she ran out of edibles 3 days ago, so that's most likely not the reason why.

Like promised, Noah and Mirage explained what, where, who, and why he was on Earth. And that there's more of him. And that they can transform into cars. And he demonstrated this, by transforming into a car himself. The Frankenstein car you were inside not longer than a week ago.

Now the dots were finally connecting.

She continues to ask him a variety of questions, each of which ranging from how long he's been on Earth, why he choose a Porsche to be his alt mode (to which he responded with, "A cool guy like me needs to have a pretty cool alt to go along with it" followed by a flirtatious wink), and how many other people know about his existence. By know your shoulders are less tense, posture completely relaxed as she continues a conversation with (mainly Mirage) the two of them.

And Mirage, being the big flirt he is, kept throwing pick-up lines whenever the chance showed itself, accompanied by a wink and a cute smirk. Each one making you a little flustered.

Eventually Noah had to leave, because apparently Kris never went to sleep in the first place, to busy to defeat Bowser. He knew because Kris accidentally blew his cover via walkie-talkie. So now it's just you and Mirage, all alone in the garage.

It felt somewhat awkward, but Mirage always found a way to break the silence of everything.

"So how'd you meet my boy?"

"His mom, she was a co-worker of mine a few years ago, and decided to invite me over to her house to meet her kids."

"And what, you guys hit it off there?"

Y/N let's out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "Not exactly. He was a little nervous at the start. We only started talking when I offered to babysit Kris." And the conversation continued on from there, leaking into the early hours of the morning.

Mirage knew he wanted to know and see more about the human, she's just so pretty and fascinating! And her reactions and little faces she makes are so cute to him, make him wanna squeeze her little cheeks. His tanks are filled with the fluttery feeling again, the more they talk, the more it increases. Now he knew when to take risks, and this is one of them definitely. He knows he wants to see more of her, to keep talking with her. Just makes his spark go absolutely crazy.

So why not ask her out?

Alright Mirage, you can do this, my man! Don't let that nervous feeling pull you down. C'mon c'mon c'mon! When will you get another chance like this ever again?

After giving himself a small prep talk, Mirage finally asks. "Hey you wanna go to the drive-ins sometime tomorrow? I'd love to keep seeing that pretty face of yours more~" A wink following with a smirk. His confidence was all over the place, and his spark was beating rapidly, like it's going to come out of his chassis. Obviously it wasn't shown on his face, but internally he was a nervous wreck.

You were somewhat taken off-guard by his question, a blush covering your cheeks. Is he asking you out on a date? I mean, he could be asking to hang out more, but his various flirtatious comments and compliments thrown at you made you think otherwise.

Now that she thinks about, he's actually a lot better than any person she's been in a relationship with. He's actually makes her laugh, is nice and gentle, a good listener, and overall quite comfortable to be around with. And he's quite a cutie and handsome one too..fuck it.

"Sure. What time, handsome~?" The mech perked up at her response, optics lighting up. "How 'bout sometime at 7? I know a pretty good spot~"

"Then it's a date." Oh how that word made his spark flutter. He does a little dance and fists his hand in the air for his small victory, Y/N laughing a little at his antics. Her cheeks hurt so much from smiling so much. She's pretty excited for tomorrow's drive-in now.

When Mirage finally settles down, she beckons him down to be at her level, a small mischievous smile on her face. Confused, he does so, couching down until becoming face to face with her smiling face.

Warm lips peck his metal cheek, his optics widening in surprise at the bold gesture, a blue blush makes itself known on his face. The warmth spreading through his entire body as a shiver goes up his backstruts. Now he's for sure his spark might just beat out his chassis. She can practically hear it!

"Something for you to think about until tomorrow~ Goodnight Mirage~" And with that, she leaves the garage, a big smile on her face as she makes her way home, ready to finally crash into her bed and excited for the night tomorrow.

Mirage was left crouching in the garage, a surprised look still of his face, still trying to process what had just happen. His look of shock then quickly shifted to a look of giddiness, letting out a victory whoop as he tries to calm his beating spark.

"Man, what a woman!" And he cannot wait to see her again.

#transformers x reader #mirage x reader #rotb mirage #rotb mirage x reader #such a cute baby #rise of the beasts #knightverse #bayverse #noah diaz

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argisthebulwark · 7 months ago

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I'm Almost Me, She's Almost You

summary: He swore he got over you ages ago - but it's hard to ignore the pieces of you he finds in someone else. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Erandur warnings: none omg masterlist

Brynjolf knew that he was over you. It had been months since you'd looked up at him with that heartbreaking smile and said those words that had ruined him - I just don't think we should do this anymore. He'd accepted your new roles as coworkers and stuffed away any lingering feelings the moment he saw you move on with another man. He was quite good at moving on, he thought. It had been weeks since he'd let your name leave his tongue when someone else's lips were on his skin, a mistake he would never repeat. It's difficult to mind his words so often - he knows you would never stumble on a job or leave behind any clues. When he glares down at the clear boot print his new partner left behind he cannot help himself - you would never do this. Sometimes when their hood is up, he can pretend that it's you. It's your fingers twisting into the straps of his armor and kissing up his throat or your boots planted on his desk to complain about a long day. Brynjolf lets them kiss him, reassuring himself that he is definitely over you.

Though many lifetimes had passed since he'd last heard it, Miraak would never forget your laugh. It haunted him; late nights spent alone in his study praying that your fingers would trail through his hair and remind him to rest, giggling when he swatted at your touch. He heard it in the winds when he stood atop mountains and the rustling of pages as he hunted Apocrypha for a way to get you back. He never expected to hear it in another. When the Last Dragonborn laughed it brought tears to his eyes. He'd been paying them no mind, mildly interested in the journey they took to High Hrothgar but it had not been enough to distract him until he heard that. It was you, the one he'd loved so dearly all those years ago. He would do anything to hear it again. Descending to Nirn was the last thing Miraak intended to do but it unavoidable. Tucked into the corner of some shady tavern he watched, cloak pulled tight and drink untouched as he stared at them. Their head tilted back, tears leaking from their eyes when they laughed at whatever their companion had said. It was the most beautiful sound Miraak had ever heard.

"Can you do this?" Vilkas wasn't sure why he felt so guilty asking someone to pet through his hair - it wasn't anything profane. As he guided their hand and demonstrated how to run their fingers through it, he assured himself that it was just anxiety. It had been months since he'd lost you but he was still learning how to be intimate with someone else. It was difficult. He'd grown so comfortable with you, something that had taken years dashed over one stupid mistake. He'd known that letting you go would be hard but learning to live without you was terrifying. "Like this?" They giggled and he readied himself to answer. All words failed when their nails scratched over his scalp, brain overloaded with you. Your fingers twisted in his hair tilting his head back to kiss him, you working soap into his scalp after a long battle, your touch wordlessly begging him for more. He stumbled over his words and couldn't bear to open his eyes, entirely lost in memories of you.

Erandur should have known better. Allowing himself to grow accustomed to your touch had been foolish. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep you forever yet he'd done it anyway, he'd become addicted to you - the reverent way you touched him and your voice soothing all his worries, your warmth and forgiveness absolving his many sins. Death had wrenched you away from him so long ago. The pain had broken him, ruining everything but his faith. When he knelt before Lady Mara's altar, hands clasped and lips wrapping around those all too familiar words of faith he felt you. It was your embrace he felt through his god, your arms reaching down from the heavens and your ear hearing him beg for salvation. How could he not see you? Lady Mara, the goddess of love and his first savior, could only be represented by you. You who had saved him over and over, only your eyes could appear in his mind when he whispered prayers in your name. Erandur's vision of his beloved deity blurred, replaced by visions of his most beloved. He could only hope that it was her will.

#writing #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #brynjolf #miraak #vilkas #erandur

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Roman Sionis x Reader

Note: I have a huge crush on Roman Sionis (not the BoP version) so I wanted to try my hand at writing him <3 Also, I am going with the version where he can take the mask off.

Tw. Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics

Roman Sionis was a lot of things.

He was a trust fund kid who relied on daddy’s money all his life until he decided to take that money for himself.

He was a horrible business man so he turned into a mob boss, you know, as you do.

He was a whack job who had a sick and twisted obsession with you and was currently holding you captive.

But you honestly think that the worst part about him was that he was incredibly snarky and condescending. To you at least, his countless victims would most likely complain about his sadistic and brutal torture methods, but you doubt that you’d ever experience that for yourself. Mostly because Roman knew how to psychologically torture people in other ways.

“There we go, don’t you feel all pretty now?” He hummed, tilting his masked face and speaking in a way that made you know he was smirking.

The scene is tense for everyone. His gangsters stand behind the other tailors who are sobbing quietly as they sit on one knee, you can feel the uneasiness of the two tailors behind you as they silently pray and beg repentance for every sin they’ve committed, but what makes it worse is that all eyes are on you. You want to avoid speaking, one of Roman’s favorite pastimes is to find a way to misinterpret your words on purpose so he could have an excuse to kill someone, to guilt you into thinking that you were the one who condemned them to death despite him pulling the trigger. You feel your stomach churn, knowing that someone was going to die for Roman’s own amusement, and he knew it too.

“C’mon, give Daddy a twirl, yeah?” He hums.

Daddy.

You scrunch your nose in disgust. You absolutely hated it when he called himself that, it made you want to shrink into yourself, and rip your ears off so you’d never have to hear him say it again. He probably knew you hated it too, guessing by the way he chuckled at your incredibly obvious reaction, and it’s probably the only reason why he says it. Still, you do as he says because you have no choice and try to twirl for him enthusiastically. The last time you tried to be nonchalant about a gift as a form of subtle protest was when you were getting fitted for a ring, that resulted in one person losing their life and the employees getting all of their ring fingers cut off, and you know what Roman said to justify/blame it on you?

“You deserve only the best, sweetheart. If they can’t give it to you, then I don’t think they should be alive.”

Maybe in another life, where you were an equally depraved criminal, you would’ve found his words to be genuine and sweet. However, you knew that Roman Sionis was incapable of being genuine and sweet, and that this was another one of his mind games. A warning for future reference that if you wanna try and resist him, even in the most tiniest and insignificant ways, he will not stand for it.

“Absolutely stunning.” He praises, standing up to walk towards you.

You resist the urge to step away from him, no matter how strong it may be, because you know that’s another way to get someone killed. Instead you stand there, obediently like the good spouse you were, and don’t flinch when he brings a gloved hand to the diamond necklace around your neck.

“But you know me, I’m a sucker for you wearing anything expensive,” He says, almost in a tender tone as if there was some truth to his words, but you don’t think about that. Instead, you think about his next sentence:

“What do you think about it?”

You gulp and you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him not to do this to you. Not to make you have to stand outside the shop as you hear gunshots and crying, shamelessly throwing his arm around you with small droplets of blood decorating his nice white suit, and leaving you lying away from his body as your haunted by what you could have done differently even if you knew Roman wouldn’t have let you. His dark eyes stare back at you with nothing but a mischievous glee and you were on higher alert than ever.

“I love it!” You say, forcing your best smile and cheery tone.

He fidgets with your necklace between his fingers, his eyes now studying the way the diamond sparkles rather than your incredibly unconvincing expression, and he just says: “Yeah? That right?”

Still, you nod eagerly and continue to try and guess what he wants to hear: “Yeah, it looks really good on me, I think! I really like the style, a-and the material, and the uh-” You lose your train of thought as he slowly lets go of the diamond hanging from the sterling silver chain, letting it fall back down to your chest as he slowly starts to walk behind you, and the goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You didn’t like this, you didn’t like this at all, but you still tried your best to keep going, “the, um, the color is nice.”

“The color, hm?” He mumbles, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he lowers his mouth (or where it’s supposed to be) next to your ear, “You sure about the color, sweet thing?”

You nod your head again, giving a shrill “mhm!” because your words are dying in your throat. You hated it when he got too close like this, it made you nervous, and you wanted him to get away from you. You wanted to push him off, to scream and run, but you also knew you couldn’t do that. His silence made the very blood in your veins run cold but set your mind on fire as you were trying to figure out how to salvage this already doomed moment.

“Really? Because you hate this color.” Roman states, his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist.

Someone’s sobs become a little louder than the rest and when Roman turns his head to look at them, you quickly turn around to face him again and put your hands on his chest. It does what you intended it to do because his eyes are back on you.

“I changed my mind!”

“Nah, I don’t think you did. If I recall, you absolutely hate this color because it reminds you of me.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, a petty “gotcha” kind of one. He wasn’t wrong, though, because he tried to give you something in the same horrendous color early on when he abducted you and you blew him off. Saying how you wouldn’t want something so gross and so…him. You gulp, realizing two things: 1. Roman had an excellent memory regarding you and 2. You just lied to his face.

And he hated it even more when you lied.

You stammer out apologies and excuses, anything that could help the situation but he steps away from you before taking out his concealed gun. One of the workers lets out a fearful cry and tries to back away but one his False Facers comes and grabs them by their shoulders, walking closer towards Roman despite the fearful protest of the poor innocent civilian. They were going to be the first one to die.

“I mean, c’mon, none of ya had the decency to look at how unhappy they were when they saw the color? None of you guys stopped to ask them what was wrong and fix it and put a smile on their precious little face?” He shakes his head as he loads his weapon. They beg for their lives as you try to plead with the devil himself.

“Roman, please, they probably didn’t want to go against you! Th-They knew that you knew best and I- I promise I love this color-”

You sound so pathetic, yipping at the big dog not to use his fangs, but you had no power here. No one did except for Roman Sionis, a man who never did anything other than to get more power for himself and to make others miserable, even the one he claimed to love the most.

Then it hits you.

Your body reacts faster than your mind as you take the fleeting opportunity to have one hand grab his mask and the other to grab his tie. Not even Roman was aware of what was happening as he tensed up the moment he felt your lips against his. You gripped the mask tightly in your free hand as you kept a strong hold on his tie, even pulling him closer towards you as if you were trying to chain him to you. As if forcing yourself to do this usually romantic and loving act is enough to break his need for blood. And it does.

Once Roman understands what’s going on, he drops his gun and cups your face with his hands as he kisses you back. Tilting his head to the side to deepen it and his body relaxes. You might not see it but you cloud your mind completely. His eyes stay open for a while as he sees one beautiful tear stream down your cheek before they go half lidded and he surrenders himself to this bliss.

You’re making his heart do the thing again. You did it to him the first time he met you, then you did it the second time, then so on and so forth, and here you go doing it again to him. You wonder why he’s so addicted to you, don’t worry, he does too. He wonders why he bothers with such an ungrateful little brat who doesn’t appreciate his gestures and only pays attention to the crimson that stains his hands, why he bothers with someone who sleeps on the farthest part of their bed as if Roman was some horrible monster they didn’t want to touch, but it’s times like this that he remembers why. It’s because you were the only one who could make him feel this way, who could give him a taste of what love felt like, but also made him feel so powerful when you did stuff like this as a last resort.He pulls away for air, your lips chase after him despite being out of breath as well to try and buy a little more time, but he’s just gonna tease you later and ask if he was just that damn good of a kisser.

Roman stares at you again, this time really looking at you, and his hands still cup your face gently. His pants softly under his breath as one thumb from his hand gently caresses your cheek. You stare at him with hopeful eyes and while he does love keeping you at the bottom of his heel and remind you whose in charge…he figures that this time it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your way.

“On second thought, boys,” He starts and he loves the way you edge closer to him unintentionally, “...Let ‘em go, they can be off the hook. This time.”

You let out a breath of relief but then shyly hand Roman back his mask, your hand letting go of his tie and wrapping your arm around his. As he puts on his mask, he relishes in the feeling of you resting your head on his shoulder and being more affectionate with him. Maybe you were so relieved that you managed to get through to him or maybe you were just exhausted with everything that went down but you fall asleep on his shoulder during the ride home and when he’s done admiring the sight, he gently puts his head on top of yours.

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zoe-is-amazingg · 11 months ago

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Why'd you only call me when your high?

18+

Mark Estapa X F Reader

Summary - You've always had feelings for him, but he only evers calls you when he's high.

W/C - 1.5 k

Warnings - Drinking and smoking, kissing, fluff, angst, like kinda smut to very little. swearing and mentions of smut

A/N - start requesting hockey guys pookies 😘😘

You were always helping Mark. Fucking Mark. The guy would couldn't seem to not be inlove with blunts and weed as you were inlove with him. Everything was so fucking pathetic to your friends, but you needed the slightest bit of attention from him that you could manage.

So, at 3am, Ethan called you, claiming him and Mark were not currently under the influence, but they were. If either one of them calls you at 3am, Mark was high. Doesnt even matter if any of his friends told him not to, he found a longing in it.

"Y/n, Mark needs you." Ethan mumbles and Mark giggles in the background.

"No." You say, your heart breaking at saying this, but you need to say no. You just couldnt keep saying yes, you would get known for being able to relie on when someone was high. The hockey guys knew you only did this for Mark, some of them tried it once. You needed to say no to Mark just like you say no to his teammates.

The slight gasp you heard from another guy, who your assuming is Dylan. "Shit man, she hates you now." Dylan chuckles. Your eyes narrow in instinct, the quickly go back when you realise it was a phone call.

"I don't hate you Mark, just get sober." You whisper as you hang up. It was heartbreaking, saying no. But you just couldn't bring it to yourself to say yes and let him walk all over you like usual.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Each time your phone vibrates, another ping of pain to your heart. You couldn't help but feel sad about it all, you were rejecting the only form of contact you get from Mark. You open your phone, if you read the text but don't respond, it'll give more impact to him.

Please Y/n For fucks sake Y/n, answer me I need you.

You can't help but chuckle as you turn off your phone, every single time this happens, he comes to your dorm, you don't now how but he gets here somehow. Then you hookup and he ditches in the morning. A horrible cycle of pain for you and a great cycle of pleasure for him.

Each time and everytime you open the front door for him, he kisses you with lust, the weed or whatever he smoked on his breath. Each time and everytime you accept those kisses, he takes off your clothes and you, his. Each time and everytime it gets taken too far. Each time and everytime you try to convince yourself it'll be different. Each time and everytime it isnt, it never is.

So, he better get the fucking memo. You hear a knock on your door and it pulls you out of your train of thought completely. You pray it isnt him, you pray to god. But no praying could ever save him from arriving at your dorm whenever he was high.

"Y/n, please...open the door." He croaks out, you can't really tell if he was crying or if he sounded like that because he just had probably like 3 blunts.

“Mark, I can’t do this anymore.” You say and he groans from behind the door. “Please. You don’t understand”

“What have I done wrong?” He asks. You weren’t one to complain about this, the attention you lusted for from him night after night, but it had just gotten out of hand for the both of you.

“Nothing. I just need you to not be drunk.” You sigh and he groans again.

“Just open the door Y/N.” Mark begs. Then every single memory comes back to you, his dick being in you, filling you up to the brim, his lips trailing on your neck, the sudden euphoric feeling you get when he fucks you.

The longing feeling in your heart was too much to handle at this point.

And as his ears chirped up at the sound of the doorknob rattling as you opened it, he walked straight inside, no kiss or nothing.

You notice his eyes are bloodshot as he turns around to look at you. “I’m sorry.” He says.

“What?” You ask him as he looks at you, a sorry look plaguing his features. “I’m sorry for being a dick, I’m sorry for us hooking up and then ditching, I just- I can’t imagine my life without you Y/N.” He pleads.

You sigh. “If only you weren’t high, you won’t remember this in the morning.” You say, disappointment ringing in your tone.

“But I do, I always have.” Mark says and you tilt your head. “I always remember it, the way we fuck, the way your body feels against mine, the way I can’t wait to get high and do it all over again with you.”

“Then why not mention it?” You ask and he groans.

“Because! I’m scared your going to fucking hate me and never talk to me again if you do,” He cries; not actual tears, in actuality all that he was crying for was for you. He cups your cheek and presses his lips against yours.

And as he does so, the same everything and everytime floods your brain, but you just hope that he doesn’t leave you this time.

#Spotify #mark estapa #mark estapa fluff #hockey x you #hockey x reader #umich blurbs #umich boys #umich wolverines #umich imagine #umich hockey #ethan edwards

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kachowden · 2 years ago

Note

I am already in love with the pink lemonade cowboy 🥰😍

Vampire!Cowboy! Yandere x GN! Reader

——————-(<3)—————

A/n: I do not condone yandere behavior, this is purely fictional. This will be a short series. If you want to see what our yandere looks like you can see him here <3 also this technically isn’t a slow burn but the juicy stuff will show up in part 2

Part 1

——————————————————-

The rain thudded dully against the roof of your old rusty car. Your windshield wipers squeaked across your windows, flinging off thin sheets of water that blurred the dark road in front of you. Puddles reflected in your single headlight.

You’re grandfather was a cruel man.

As sweet as honey, you loved your grandfather dearly. He was always especially generous on the holidays.

But he was cruel. Because while he was on his “retirement vacation”, he left his massive farm in your care.

You! The grandchild who hadn’t done a lick of farm work in their entire life! Hell the closest thing to a farm you’d ever been to was a petting zoo when you were- what 6??

How were you expected to do anything remotely useful! In fact you were 90% sure that these crops and animals would be dead and gone within a week under your care.

But ohoho! Lucky you! You grandfather has a helper on the farm! A complete Fucking stranger who you’d never met before was going to be sharing a house with you for the next 6 weeks! Thank you grandpa! Love you SOO much!

You did love him. But you were irritated and you felt like you had a right to be so! He dropped this bombshell on you, not even asking if you had any plans!

Which you didn’t but that wasn’t the point!

Plans could’ve popped up at any moment!

With a very stressed sigh you pulled your beaten up car into the drive way of the rustic red farm house. Your engine wheezed with exhaust as your wheels rolled to a bumpy stop on the wet pavement. It took about 5 hours to drive to where your grandpa lived. Which meant you couldn’t just stay at your house and visit everyday to water the animals and feed the crops or whatever.

You physically had to stay here.

I mean it was a paid vacation but come on! You’d rather be working at the café than on a farm! At least you knew what you were doing there!

You let your head fall softly against the steering wheel, sighing again at your circumstances.

“Whatever. No use in complaining now.”

“Probably not kid.”

“Holy Sh-!”

The violent sound of your car horn scattered birds and animals for miles. Though there were few to begin with in this dreary weather. The stranger who had peered through your open window winced, covering his ears with a snarl.

“Oh shit- i am so sorry you just- actually- no what the fuck you scared the shit out of me!”

Typically you weren’t one to point fingers but you were in a particularly bad mood today so you felt that it was justified. Plus he did scare you!

The strangers lips twisted into a grimace, and you felt your body sending various warning signals when his turquoise irises narrowed down on your figure. Jeez this dude had a judgmental stare. You prayed this guy wasn’t your grandfathers “help”.

The mystery man clicked his tongue. “You the old mans grandkid?”

Fuck

You glared deeply at the totally not gorgeous cowboy, “..and I suppose you’re his “helper”?”

The stranger didn’t seem to take very kindly to your attitude, what with the way he leaned his head a little further into your car window to stare you down.

You had half the nerve to try and close it on him but the dumb thing was a window crank and you wouldn’t have gotten it up in time anyway.

“The names Micah. Your pops calls me Mickey. It’s either Micah or Mic to you, kid.”

Asshole!

“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age Mickey.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely pulling himself out of the car with a deep exhale.

He backed up slightly from the vehicle, you assumed to wait for you to get out, but when he lifted his boot up you got a little more worried

“Hey what’re you-“

With a sharp kick, Mickey smashed his boot into the lower side of your car door causing it to shoot open like a spring lock. Aka causing you to flop out onto your ass with a loud cuss.

Crying out you scowled deeply at the cowboy who didn’t even bother to send you a snarky look in return.

You could feel the water drizzling through your hair and clothes.

Looking painfully disinterested, the redhead(?) began walking away from your slowly soaking form. Leaving you to bring in your luggage. In the rain.

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be friendly or something..” you growled somewhat pitifully into the empty cold rain.

Glancing down at your wet knees you sighed, beginning to pick yourself off the ground, in hopes to spare a little of your own dignity.

Though it was for not when you felt your non grippy shoes slide against a stray patch of mud.

You didn’t have time to do much more than gasp when you felt yourself fall forward, only to land into a surprisingly secure and- kinda cold, set of arms.

Your breathed deeply for a moment, pulling back to stare at Mickey, who’s own eyes peered down at you from the brim of his now spotted hat.

You didn’t want to acknowledge the size of his forearms, or how you could feel practically everything under that flimsy wife beater he wore despite the weather.

You swore you heard him mumble something along the lines of “city folk”, but you became too distracted when noticing the purple spotted umbrella that now shade the two of you from the rain.

“Oh..”

You think you finally saw a small smile on the cowboys lips.

“Still thinkin I ain’t nice?”

You flushed, mostly in embarrassment at the fact that he heard you.

“Ah dip, you heard that?”

His laugh was fucking hot dude.

“You’d be surprised on how much I can hear, Kid.”

“Creepy but okay.”

Mickey laughed again though a bit shorter this time before propping you back up. You swore you heard a deep inhale, but you weren’t sure due to the sound of rain pelting the umbrella and car.

“Why don’t you head inside. I’ll grab your luggage.”

“Oh no, I can take care of it-“

The man glared at you, though you felt it was considerably less hostile than it had been originally.

“Just get in or else the foods gon’ get cold.”

Food?

“Say less!”

You had half a mind to be embarrassed when Mickey laughed at the sight of you practically skipping up to the porch and through the rustic door.

—————————————-

There was a loud and aggressive knocking at your door.

You decided being cruel was a country thing.

Because while Mickey had been sweet enough to make you dinner last night and breakfast this morning, he also rudely woke you up at the ass crack of dawn and kicked you out into the field to help with the chores.

Now mind you, typically you were a morning person! A go-getter of sorts! But the sun wasn’t even awake yet! So why were you out here picking peas, tomatoes, squash, peppers and so on, when you could be sleeping peacefully, cozied up in the slightly itchy and heavy wool sheets of your guest bed! Something about “the morning dew” apparently.

You weren’t even sure how Mic got in your room after you didn’t respond, seeing as you were once again, 90% sure you locked the door. Then again, the food he made practically sent you into a coma once you were done.

You weren’t sure if it was coincidence or not, but Micah had made all your favorite foods that evening. You wanted to assume your pa had told him, but you didn’t believe for a second that, that rude cowboy would go out of his way to make your favorite foods for you.

Especially considering he didn’t eat any of it.

All he had was this weird cup of, what you could only assume was wine or cranberry juice and a few pieces of a steak he popped in the oven.

This guy was weird.

“Hey kid! You done pickin or are your city hands to sensitive to finish the job?”

Speak of the bastard and he will come! Unfuckenfortunately

Your scowl was probably noticeable from a mile away, and especially from where the tall country man stood, given his smug grin as he walked over to examine your work.

He whistled mockingly, freaky blue-green eyes scanning your baskets.

“Not bad, for city folk anyway. But here.-“ crouching down in front of you the, ginger(?) reached his rough hands out and softly pulled the baskets from your arms.

“You wanna keep your herbs separated from each other. Some of them are harder to tell from others and you don’t wanna go mixin them up.”

You watched quietly, mostly in your own mental brooding, as he carefully separated the different herbs and spices from each other. His hands were large, but you noticed how precise he seemed to be. He had to have been working here quite sometime, cuz you couldn’t tell much of a difference between half of the things he was organizing.

“There we go.” His voice was soft this morning. Blending in with the sound of the faint winds, and the after rain dripping from the gutters and into the soil. It was still too early for the birds to be chirping. The sun still had yet to rise but the stars gave just enough light to see the gentle gaze the farm boy had set on you.

This moment of silence was odd for you. Especially given the two of you bickering since your arrival yesterday. This guy before you made no sense. Like a switch, he was harsh and snappy, and then gentle and calm. Caring almost. At times he almost acted like he’d known you for years. Though that seemed to mostly happen when he was doing something around the farm.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you missed the way Mickeys eyes were burning into you. They moved languidly over your figure, taking in your attire, dressed more warmly for the morning chill. Nearly every part of you was covered.

Except your neck. You had forgotten to pack a scarf apparently.

The pale man’s jaw clenched tightly, his shoulders tensing before he scowled and stood up, interrupting the once peaceful atmosphere.

“Get up. We still have work to do.”

His tone was cold and biting like the morning. Your breath came out in foggy puffs. But his didn’t. At least you couldn’t see it from where you were.

You watched with furrowed brows knit confusion as the cowboys boots carried him into the farmhouse, right as the first rays of the sun stretched over the country side and bled into the fields.

What was his deal?

For the rest of the day, Mickey seemed to be adamant about being as big of a thorn in your side as possible. Barking at you to hurry up. Scowling at you when you slipped or did something even slightly wrong.

Perfectionist asshole.

He also seemed to be avoiding looking at you.

At least directly. Every time you turned to yell at him, or glare, his back was always turned or his head was to the side, seeming adamant on not meeting your eyes.

Moody much?

The only time he did look at you was when he thought you weren’t looking. ‘Specially when you were moving heavy objects and you had to take off your jacket so you wouldn’t drown in your own sweat.

To some extent you prided your self on your work. You weren’t lazy by any means, and actually considered yourself a fairly hard worker, if the muscles of your forearms were any indication. You weren’t ripped. But it was something right?

You assumed that Mic agreed, though granted he could’ve just been comparing yours to his own massive forearms. But with the way his eyes were trailing all over you and zoning in on your barren arms and shoulders, You were almost flattered!

Almost. If the same guy who was checking you out wasn’t also being bloody ruthless with the chores. You got a few scrapes and bruises by that time noon, and you practically fell into the rickety kitchen dining chairs.

“Holy fucking shit I’ve never moved that much in my entire life..” a pain groaned poured from your lips as your aching muscles strained with your body heaving itself upwards.

Mickey let out a soft scoff at the sound, though still considerably gentler than he had been all morning, as he placed a very aesthetic sand-which In front of you.

Your stomach growled particularly loud at the sight, and with new found energy you picked up the scrumptious food with a grateful thanks and began eating.

Mickey, once again, without a lunch of his own opted to watch you openly instead. His belt buckle jeans pressed into the kitchen counter top, muscular arms propping himself up against it.

He watched quietly, and you would’ve been freaked out if you weren’t so damn tired.

“There’s still more to do. We haven’t gotten to the animals yet. And the roof on the barn needs leak repairs.”

You choked.

Hacking violently you smacked your chest before unlodging the piece of fresh bread from your throat.

Gulping water quickly you exhaled and turned to look at the cowboy in what you hoped was a glare, but was more accurately a very pathetic frown.

“I-!” You opened your mouth to argue before closing it softly with a tired sigh.

You’d complained enough today.

Mickey had been doing this kind of work for who knows how long, and he was going out of his way to accommodate your pace, though not by much, and was even making you food. It felt rude to comparing at this point.

You just hoped that if you died from exhaustion Mickey wouldn’t use your body as fertilizer.

So with a resigned groan you sat up after finishing your delicious sandwich. “..Yeah, okay.” You mumbled, getting ready to move to the trash can and toss out the crumbs and paper, but a large pale hand forced you back into your seat, without much pressure given how tired your body already was.

You gazed at Mickey curiously.

The tall cowboy looked down at you firmly, his expression odd as he scanned your bruises and sweaty face. Sighing completely inaudibly before reaching into his back pocket and placing a tube of some kind of muscle cream and a pack of wraps.

“Go upstairs and run yourself a warm bath. You stink and the water will help relax your muscles so they wont hurt as much tomorrow. You can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you need to do, but I expect you down here and out at the gate by 5 to bring in the cattle. Got it?”

You were stunned. The smile that worked its way on your face seemed to embarrass the farmer slightly as he turned away from you with folded arms and a grumpy frown.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m only letting you off because at this point you’ll slow me down more than anything. I don’t need a clumsy city kid messing up my work.”

You chose to ignore the bastards insults in favor of gently placing your arm on his lower bicep.

“Thanks Mic.”

You missed the deep inhale and weird glow of the cowboys eyes that followed you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

“…..”

It was good to see you hadn’t changed much.

#yandere #yandere cowboy #yandere vampire #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere oc #Micah/Mickey oc #part 1

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hannamoon143 · 21 days ago

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California Dreamin'- The beach boys

Seo Changbin with California Dreamin from the Beach boys for the fall series

Genre: Angst, hurt/no comfort

Warnings: none really, reader is just a shitty person

Wordcount: 808w

a/n: this req, by @lina-linny as it seems we are getting lot more angst than fluff in the fall series lol. I'm working on it alrrr. I have some fluff in mind too, (hehe spoiler its with lix) So now as always, take ur blanket, a hot cocoa (or a coffee, man i'm craving coffee rn (no i didn't drink two cups just an hour ago)) And have a cozy falll <333

Chills went through Changbins body as he walked on the little side path, the wind seeping into his bones. When he was looking around he saw all the trees, leaves being brown, seemingly lifeless. Just like he felt. And the weather wasn’t the best for a walk either. The sky was grey. Heavy, dark clouds hovering above changbins head. With some luck he could make it home before it would start to rain. He wrapped his jacket around himself a bit tighter, watching his breath come out in little white clouds.

People were passing by, leaves were falling down, and everyone seemed to be distracted from the coldness. But changbin could never ignore it. The heavy, cold air, and his frozen hands were only a sharp reminder to you, and California. Yes, while he was here, freezing in the streets of seoul, you were in the oh so beautiful california. When he only was thinking of the sunshine and the warm breeze there it was shaking him already. But not only the warmth of sunshine was missing for him. It was your warm hand in his. Your sunny, comforting presence next to him, that made every single day seem less cold. But what could he do? He couldn’t just fly over to california, all his responsibilites were laying on him heavily, and with the comeback album and the upcoming tour he could never leave the boys alone. And even if he’d come, would it change something between you?

But he also couldn’t convince you to come back. Not right now. You hated the cold. And probably him too right now. He didn’t even want to think of your last words before you flew off to your beloved hometown L.A.. It didn’t matter now anyway. What mattered was that you left him, here alone on seouls street in the sharp cold. Without you there to warm him, and giggle about how he would blow warm air into his hands he slowly began to despise the cold just as much as you did.

But all he could do about it was to wait. To wait and hope you would come back. Maybe in spring, when it was getting warmer again. Maybe in summer, or maybe just anytime soon. He never entirely understood why you left. When you announced you would, he was apologizing a thousand times, not even knowing what for. He was making even more time for you, if that was somehow possible, since all his free time was already yours. Could he have done more? He didn’t know. And maybe he never would. All you said was that you „needed space“, right after you complained to him about how he was not giving you enough attention. After that, he knew that all that were just excuses for you to leave, altough never entirely admitting it to himself. He didn’t know if space was for you to stay away for a few days or weeks, or just your way of breaking up with him.

The cold was getting suffocating, and it felt as if it only added to his heavy, anxious thoughts. There was a little church by the sidewalk. He didn’t think much into it and just went in, hoping the cold would be less intese in there.

He got down to his knees pretending to pray. It just didn’t feel right to use the church only to clear his thoughts or make the cold go away. Especially when a preacher was standing in the front oft he church, a few people listening.

But now, without the walking it only got colder. Until now, Changbin still tried to talk your actions and words good, to somehow romanticize everything, but now, as the cold seeped not only into his bones, also into his mind, he started to see clear. Your words were an excuse to leave. And nothing more. An excuse to maybe come back, or maybe not. It was all in your own hands, and options were open for you, since you could do your job from everywhere too, and your family would surely like if you’d stay in california. But deep inside he probably knew you weren’t gonna come back. And somewhere in him, he promised himself to let you go, to not wait for you forever, with no idea if you’d come back or not.

But in this moment, he could feel the cold stone under his knees, hear the wind howl around the walls of the little church, and smell the cold autumn. In this moment, all he could do was dream of california, of you. If he was there with you right now, he would be way warmer for sure. But this wasn’t going to happen. And sooner or later he had to accept that. He had to stop with the california dreamin someday…

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mjanelupinblack · 9 months ago

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starving creatures | chapter one 🖤

pairing: xu minghao x reader // jun x reader (mainly lol)

description: starving creatures have arrived at your homeland in forks. little do you know, they not only intend to drain the blood out of you... they'll also to break your heart in two.

genres: slowburn (please bare with me), fluff, angst, vampire!au

warnings: blood drinking, lot of blood related themes, repressed emotions, family issues, miscommunication, kinda toxic friendship with cheol? blood and smut will be mixed. emotionally and physically starved vampires oops. did i mentioned blood?

minors dni!!!

fic playlist 🖤

w/c: 3.2k

a/n: like i said, slowburn as f*ck. you'll have to wait to have fun with jun and hao but it'll be worth it if you bare with me. also i am having so much fun writing this omg ^_^ english isn't my first language and i don't have beta readers so kind feedback is welcome <3

CHAPTER 1

Joshua Hong had been the first for many things in his life: the firstborn, the first brother to complete his education, the first student among his classmates to perform a solo surgery, and one of the first doctors to try chloroform for his medical procedures, as anesthesia wasn't nearly as developed as it is now.

He was also the first one to be turned.

No other outcome could have been expected. People like him - young, enthusiastic, seemingly blessed by the gods - had to have some divine punishment waiting for them. Josh's penance would be to live forever with his luck... and to have it slowly fade into misfortune.

As a doctor, he never thought life could be eternal. He had witnessed all types of miracles at Paris Salpêtrière, but no soul had ever gotten to escape the sweet lullabies of death. At first, he felt terrible about it. Doctor Pierre had told him to get used to it, as God only gives special treatment to his friends. Little did he know, Pierre was a close friend of Him. He didn't notice it until he found himself digging a blade into his tutor's jugular vein.

No pulse could be found, but Pierre's breaths were still steady.

"Let's go, Josh! Everything's packed!" Vernon shouted as he got into the driver's seat.

"Do we really have to go through this again?" Jun complained, as if it would change anything. For the last time, he stared at the California house that had been their home for the past ten years.

He always got too attached.

"C'mon, man, you know it's better this way," Vernon replied.

From the passenger seat, Joshua looked at them. Minghao rubbed his brother's back and gently pushed him into the car despite his deep and frustrated sighs. This might be the worst part. But upon reflection, the worst part might also involve the one where locals started noticing their lack of aging, leading him to search for a new town.

"Jun, you can't be mad..." Vernon tried.

"Hum, yes, I can be mad," Jun countered. "And I can't believe you all think it's possible to move from California to this nowhere town."

"This 'nowhere town' is called Forks, alright? And it's your new home, so you better get used to it."

Nowhere Town. That's a good name, as it reflected all the peace Joshua had been praying for since Junhui and Minghao joined his and Vernon's odd nomadic, supernatural-like lifestyle.

"It's always cloudy there. You'll get to hang out more often with your friends."

"Sorry, what friends?" Jun asked sarcastically.

"You'll make friends eventually, Jun. Stop whining," Minghao said.

You didn't believe Forks was the best town in the world either. The landscape, always covered by mist and the ground sticky wet from the most recent storm, looked exactly as it did when you were born. You finished cleaning the house an hour before the awaited arrival. The large windows were all cleaned, not a single stain preventing passersby from catching a glimpse inside.

The house was empty for now, as it had been since the heartbreaking death of the previous inhabitants. You sat by the porch, trying to catch your breath and wondering what the new family looked like. Were they old? Were they nice? Certainly, they wouldn't want anyone to disturb them, otherwise, they would have chosen to live closer to the town center.

Surrounded by trees and animals, your aunt's house was known for attracting people who appreciated solitude.

That's the first thing you learned about Minghao.

There is a van approaching from a distance. The new renters arrived half an hour earlier than you planned. You stand up quickly, shaking the dirt off your pants when, for the first time, you see his face.

You won’t be able to forget that face.

"Y/N, right? We talked on the phone yesterday," one of the guys says. There are four of them now. By his introduction, you supposed you are talking to Mr. Chwe.

"Yes! It's so nice to meet you all, Mr. Chwe."

You shake his hand, surprised to find Mr. Chwe, a doctor, looks more like a student who just pulled an all-nighter.

He also has the temperature of an old man.

"Just Vernon, please," he said.

You had a speech planned, but right now you're having trouble remembering what you were going to say. There's a man behind Vernon who looks at you with tender and compassionate eyes. You assume he's Joshua, the one who responded to your emails.

"I'm so sorry my aunt couldn't make it today. As I told you, she's been sick. It would be difficult for her to climb all the way up here. I'll give you the tour, if you're comfortable with it."

Vernon shows his understanding. The same goes for Joshua, who breaks into a sincere smile and thanks you for being so attentive. It's almost as if they're acting like parents. And then, there are the kids...

"Actually, I'm tired. I'm sure we can figure out the house ourselves."

"I could really use some sleep."

"We've stayed in bigger houses anyway."

"Jun, Hao... Enough of that."

Jun and Hao; you're not sure which one takes your breath away more. With their silky, white, shoulder-length hair, they stand in the woods like fairies in a fairytale.

But you imagined fairies to be... more polite, perhaps.

"It's okay. It must have been a long ride for them. I'll leave you to rest." You tranquillize Mr. Chwe with a smile, but think, Morons, in your head.

Almost as if he heard what you said, Jun's face contorts in a gesture that appears both surprised and offended.

"Do you all see that little house right there?" you ask, pointing down into the distance past the trees. "That's where I live. Just call me if you need anything. We're the only neighbors you have around, besides the Boo Family. Oh, and I almost forgot. They asked me to leave you a present since they won't be able to come and say hello today. I left it inside."

"A present?" Minghao asks, his forehead furrowed and a fucked up temper. It's as if you'd just left a bomb or something in their kitchen.

You feel small under his gaze.

"Yes... it's just a beautiful mirror."

•••

Vernon was the second one to get turned.

He graduated from uni, having already killed a man. He tasted his blood, vomited to stop feeling sick, but then got the imperious need to drink from him again.

“Who the hell is this Boo Family?” Jun asks once they get to the house. The mirror is still covered in the living room. There’s no use in unwrapping it as they can’t use it anyways.

“Some old friends.” Vernon answers, face paler than usual.

He made a vow to never to steal a life again. No matter how hungry he was, no matter how weak he could get, he had a strong set of values he planned to spend the rest of his non-desired eternity with, even if people told him it wasn’t the natural thing to do.

“Explain yourself.”

“No explanation needed… Just go to your room, Jun.”

“Are you grounding me or something? I thought we were over with all this weird family shit.”

“I could be your grandfather, how is that weird to…”

“Boo Seungkwan is the man who brought Vernon into this life, okay?” Joshua explains.

Josh had been his mentor. Studying hard for his degree, Vernon was only seven years younger than him and had a mind full of dreams. One of them was to become a doctor as brilliant as Joshua, which, after a lot of sacrifice, he did. But he never thought his desire to be like Joshua would put him into a world so dark and twisted. When he said he wanted to be like Joshua, he never imagined… this.

“There’s your answer.” Vernon says.

He wouldn’t have endured sane this long without Joshua as a friend.

“Don’t worry, mate, we are leaving this place.”

The house is big. Of course, they lived in much larger houses than your auntie’s, as Jun said. But this house… There is wood covering the walls and enormous trees blocking the sunlight from the windows.

Vernon asks himself, is it always going to be like this?

Will Josh and he finally be able to take daytime shifts? Will they be able to walk around town without having to worry about deadly eruptions on their skins?

Sunglasses and long sleeves, then they are ready to go. The offer is tempting.

“There’s no need.”

“What do you mean?” Joshua asks in disbelief.

“I mean… We already paid the girl.”

“And she can keep the money. We’re leaving.”

Jun seems thrilled. What will their new location be? Bahamas? Maybe France? Oh, he loves pain au chocolat! Now it is gonna be great.

“I want to give it a try, Josh,” Vernon says, much to Jun’s disgrace. “Yejin is dead. And there’s no other reason for the Boo family to attack me again.”

“Yejin? Like your ex-friend Yejin?” Minghao asks.

“More like the maniac, out-of-her-mind-obsessed-with-Vernon, Yejin.” Joshua corrects.

“How did you know about her, Hao?”

“I might have stumbled upon your diaries once. But then we moved, and I don’t know where you hide them anymore. So I’m kinda stuck in the middle of the tale.

“Well, well, well… Looks like we know very little of each other to be part of the same family, Mr. Chew. Or should I call you Doctor?”

Jun disappears from the room, not caring for Joshua, who wants to say something to him. Even if he couldn’t move at this dazzling speed, he would’ve been able to escape the situation with equal grace.

That’s the way he is.

“Welcome to Forks, then.”

•••

“So… the new renters are a piece of shit.” your friend Cheol says. It's nice to catch up after a whole summer apart, not seeing or hearing anything from him.

Your ankles ache from the cold wind that bites as you walk the last stretch to school.

“That’s not what I said,” you explain. “The doctors were very nice to me. But the young ones… This guy Jun was in a terrible mood and treated everyone like shit. The other brother was…”

Threatening? But gut-wrenchingly beautiful? Eyes so deep like sinking ships after crashing with an iceberg?

“…a bit serious, I don’t know. When the doctors asked me if there was a highschool nearby, I thought I'd get to make some friends.”

“Are you saying I’m not enough of a friend?”

Okay, that was a low blow and you need to respond to it.

“The whole summer you went missing. So yes, at some point your friendship felt short for me.”

Many years of friendship taught you that you can open up with Cheol whenever you feel sad or lonely. You arrive at school and identify some of the friends he spent the whole summer with. A sight escapes your mouth. You love the guys, but you kinda wish your alone time with Cheol would have lasted longer.

And he notices.

“We can hang out later. Just you and me,” he promises, grabbing both of your hands. “We can sneak and spy on this jackasses’ house. Then you’ll watch them nose-picking and realize they’re not that big of a deal.”

“Voyeurism? That 's the date?”

Cheol pinches your nose in between his fingers and smiles playfully. Same old smile. Same old gesture that makes you feel safe. Even after a whole summer of not knowing what the hell is going on in his head.

“I know you. Don’t act like you don’t like to get into other people’s lives.”

Touché. You admit there’s a certain rush of adrenaline growing in your veins whenever you think about getting into your new renters’ intimacy. There's a certain power that comes with knowing about other people's secrets. Even when you don’t plan to use any of those against them.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I take it as a yes.”

“Take it as a maybe I'd rather go grab some coffee and not do such creepy things!”

You hit your friend in the arm playfully. When they see you coming, the gang welcomes you with a hug and some cheering. Hoshi tells you about how your best friend drank his blood’s weight in beer and none of the parties were near as entertaining as when you are there to join them.

You don’t believe him. You know he’s only saying this to make you feel better. But you have nothing against white lies when they serve their purpose.

“Maybe invite me next time?” you say, knowing that you are asking for the impossible.

Soonyoung looks at Dino, who answers without saying a word. Cheol pulls you closer to him. Silent and almost surrounding you with his arms.

“I really don’t think you’d like it,” Soonyoung says. “Plus you’ve been busy training, from what I heard.”

Of course. Training. You are not sure what Soonyoung must have heard about it, or who he must have heard it from. But this summer, you have been leaving your house at five in the morning everyday with the intention of running your sacred five miles before seven a.m—or whatever number of miles you could do before starting to feel like you’re about to pass out. It has been awesome; wind whipping your skin and not a single thought crossing your head. Just a pleasant sensation of hurt that would leave your legs shaking and your mind blank.

After that, you’d return home just in time to give your auntie her meds.

And then you’d like to run away again.

“Are you getting into a competition or something?” Dino asks.

“Nah. I was just doing it to clear my mind. But who knows… I’m fast.”

“Maybe I could help your train then”

Around the corners, or maybe even a couple of blocks away, there’s a soul with the extramundane ability of hearing your thoughts and sayings with just the gaze of your silhouette.

“Hum… who the hell are you?” Seungcheol asks him.

He wasn't there just minutes ago. You must have been too lost in your own thoughts as the sight of your neighbor makes your heart skip a beat.

Maybe he wants you to introduce him?

“Guys, this is Jun. My auntie rented the house to his family, so he and his brother are new here.”

“Great way to introduce yourself, mate. You’re an asshole, from what I heard?”

You step over your friend’s foot, hoping to subtly silent him. Damn, Seungcheol has a big mouth.

“Actually, I’m here to apologize,” Jun says, much to your surprise. And then he looks at you like no one else is there. “My manners weren’t the best. We had a long trip from California so I’m sure you’ll understand.”

“California? You’re a ghost, man.”

Ignoring Soonyoung’s comment, your neighbor continues trying to apologize.

“I just wanted to let you know that whatever neighborly thing you need, you can count on my family and me.”

Just by the way they’re silent, analyzing every bit of him but actually finding nothing, you can tell that the guys already hate Jun without even knowing him.

And for that, you feel relieved.

“Thank you, Jun. I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure.”

•••

You live in a place so different than Mr. Chwe and Mr Hong’s new house. It only has a few rooms; none of them fancy and only spacious enough for you to sleep and change in there. The little wooden cabin remains hidden in between the trees, all of them prominent enough to prevent your house from being in plain sight. Rain has to make an effort to fall in between thick leaves. And if it wasn’t because of the oscillating movement of your auntie’s chair, Joshua would´t have found it.

He has always been a good neighbor. It’s a signature part of the made up story he tells about himself every time his life changes. So there he is, standing on the porch of your house with a basket of freshly baked cookies in hand. He expects to find you there and maybe ask you a couple of questions about the Boo family and your relationship with them.

“You didn’t have to” you say, receiving the basket in your hands with guilt wrinkling your eyebrows. “Really. I feel terrible. I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

“You’ve given more than enough. This is just a thank you. To you and your aunt.”

Some persistent raindrops have started to pierce through the trees.

“Come in, I insist” you say, opening the door fully even though it’s kinda messy inside. You haven’t found the time to clean up and embarrassment shows in the crimson red of your plumpy cheeks. “You won’t make it to the lodge before the rain. And I was about to make some coffee to warm up anyways.”

Joshua knows perfectly that he will be able to reach the lodge even before the next drop of rain. Despite that, he decides to enter your house and take a seat at your table, waiting for the cloudburst to stop, like any normal person. In front of him, there’s a cup of coffee. He asked for it without sugar or milk because he wouldn’t be able to enjoy those flavors if you put them in there anyways. Of course, the story he tells is different. It’s easier to explain he’s grown accustomed to preparing his coffee bitter in the rush of his night guards.

“So, California…”

Your friend Hoshi’s observation over Jun had been rude but sharp. California’s sun had rejected Joshua’s family in an inexplicable way.

“Yes, we stayed there for a short time,” he answers. For him, that is not a lie. Ten years really is a short time. “We have a condition. It makes us sensitive to the sun. So long term wasn’t an option.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for that...”

“It's okay. We just have to be careful. Forks seems like the perfect place for that.”

“Trust me. Forks can give you a lot of trouble but sunny days won’t be one.”

Joshua takes a sip of his coffee. It doesn’t taste like anything, but it’s reassuring to see you enjoy the cookies he baked but can’t taste.

“A lot of trouble?” He asks, eyes full of curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

Coming from California and —from what Vernon told you— previously New York, you imagine your neighbor has no idea of the consequences of living in a place like Forks.

“Well, a small town can be a vast hell if you don’t keep things to yourself,” you explain. “Forks is amazing. But there’s only a few habitants and they all get bored easily, so rumors fly.”

Joshua’s well aware of how deadly rumors can be. Especially when truth revolves around them.

“Do you have secrets to entertain us with, Mr. Hong?” you mock him, feeling a little more comfortable around your neighbor who’s not only a kind person but also a great baker.

His eyes get all wrinkly when he smiles.

“I’m afraid we’re gonna bore you all,” he answers “And please don’t call me Mr. Hong.”

“Fair enough.” You say, while cleaning leftover cookies from the corner of your mouth.

“What about you, do you have secrets?”

You laugh at the question. Maybe it’s because you know the answer damn well.

“Of course. We all do.”

masterlist | next chapter

#minghao x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen the8 #seventeen x reader #jun smut #jun angst #jun fluff #jun x reader #seventeen jun #minghao smut #minghao angst #minghao fluff #seventeen x y/n #seventeen fanfic

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firefly--bright · 1 month ago

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blooming hearts.

jean kirstein x reader, reincarnation au

chapter three - growth//act one

chapter warnings ; canon typical violence, death, mourning, mentions of suicide.

✿ previous ✿ series masterlist ✿ next ✿

Jean hadn’t known what he was getting into when he scowled at you from afar on initiation day. If he had, maybe he would’ve stopped it, and maybe it would’ve taken him faster to finally accept defeat and pray that his feelings would go away.

No, because even if he prayed to someone who never had the ears to empathize with him and lessen the burden of being in love, he knew he’d regret his wishes coming true. Loving you was the light that he’d hoped for – always present, never flickering, always standing and beautiful. He’d get burnt a thousand times over if it meant he could feel what your warmth again.

He couldn’t put a date to all the times he thought you were the hope. Of how many times he’d looked at his right side with tenderness in his eyes without even trying, of how many times he’d thought you were made out of everything he was curious about – the stars, fire, the sun. even when it was after training and you were sweaty and sat under the shade of a large tree, he wondered how you maintained your warmth in the blazing heat without making him suffocate.

You were on his right as always, he’d find out, as he relaxed lazily on the lush green grass, feeling the inkling of a breeze wash over him. He could only faintly hear his friends and their excited cheers – marco talking to armin about the book that they had read, something jean wasn’t all that interested in, mikasa softly telling eren that he’s doing better in training with the gear and jean could almost see the way the latter’s face would’ve gone red even if jean was looking at the sky above him. Connie and sasha argued bravely with reiner, the blonde's boisterous laugh taking over the whole field. Nothing could reach jean’s ears, however, because when he turned to look at you, on his damned right, you were looking at the clouds just as he was.

He shuddered. Summer in July with a full, heavy uniform on, he shuddered.

And his heart was beating so fast in his chest and he could hear it, almost taste it, when you turned around to look at him and smiled brightly.

Someone called your name. “how’d it go for you guys?” marco asked, armin turning towards you. jean watched as you shrugged and it all seemed effortless – uncalculated, relaxed, you responded with a soft smile, “y’know. Can’t complain. Reiner did try to shove me into a tree, though-“

“that was an accident, I’d never-“

“no, you did! I saw you!” sasha says, pointing at the blonde who looks around for support, red with embarrassment. Jean finds the strength to sit back up, his weight on his forearms, and you turn to look at him after instigating the bickering that now seemingly everyone but you and jean were a part of. He wondered if you could detect the softness that filled his eyes as he looked at you. you offered him your waterbottle, noticing the sweat on his brow, turning back to the conversation – if you could even call it that – at hand.

“I mean, it couldn’t have been intentional-“ bert reasoned, to which eren remarked “reiner’s a team player, though!” at reiner's defence. The man looked like a deflated version of himself, looking down at his lap shamefully.

You laughed. “total team player. Sorry, reiner.”

“honestly, I don’t blame you. if his big-“ connie gestures to his chest, cupping the air around it, “-bumped into me, i'd also fall into a tree.”

Eren laughs. Jean groans, his face scrunching up. “do you want me to tell everyone what happened last night?” he says with a smirk, leaning into the conversation, and connie’s eyes go comically wide.

“no-“ he says, his voice cracking, and the chatter breaks out once more, everyone urging jean to continue.

Marco glances at him with a smile. You and jean make a good team, he thinks, and he wonders how long it’ll take for the two of you to realise it without any help from him. The moment you stop talking, he completes you, without hesitation and with the same sharp glint in his eye as yours. marco always pride himself as an astute observer, the same as his best friend, but unlike the latter, he wouldn’t point out his discoveries outright, not without some coaxing or unless it was absolutely needed. So of course – even if it had been obvious to everyone else except maybe eren – the way you and jean conversed and acted like two halves of the same being didn’t go unnoticed by him, the way jean stole a couple spritz of his lavender perfume sometimes to make himself more “presentable” to no-one in particular, he knew it was for you. the way your shoulders relaxed under only jean’s soft gaze, the way you would try to spot jean’s ashy hair across the dining hall and would beeline towards him without hesitation. All of it, all the telltale signs of young love that was capable of turning so much more were all present, splayed out with its organs open to poking and prodding.

Marco wondered if this is how it would always be. If jean would always glance at you for a reaction while retelling a story against connie’s loud protests, if you would always laugh at his obvious attempts to bring connie down as much as connie did to jean.

Maybe it would. Maybe marco would always observe you two, skirting around your feelings because it was too obvious to say out loud.

And maybe it was, marco realized, his eyes squinting at your interaction with his best friend – unsaid, almost secret but not ashamed to be out in the open. He watches with only a little confusion as jean nods his head towards you with recognition and a small smile that barely reaches his cheeks and then he watches you, a stranger he doesn’t know the name of, do the same to him and almost wants to laugh at how obvious this is. But nobody else is watching, nobody witnesses the universe bait its breath and stop time for an intangible second.

And then, just as quick, you turn back to the rest of his friends and ask with your shoulders relaxed, “so, what would you guys like to order?”

Right. That’s what was happening. Marco blinks back at you.

“three cheesecakes. Wait, no, hold on-“ sasha says, and turns to her as connie squints at the menu again, no doubt having trouble reading, mustering up a loud but sure, “dooibos jelly!”

You tilt you head, “one rooibos jelly.”, you say, subtly correcting connie and marco laughs. “stupid ass name.” connie mutters, and jean’s head turns to him. “I know youre not talking, constance springer.”

Your movements still.

“that’s not even my real name. that’s fake. Like, I stole an id-”

“I have your birth certificate on my phone right now.” Sasha says, pulling out her phone from her pocket, but marco’s eyes are on you. “why the fuck do you have my birth-“ “research.” “the astrology bullshit again?” “something has to answer to this mess!” “excuse me? Im beautiful.” baldy - connie speaks.

Your fingers have gone stiff, shoulders tensed, blinking rapidly and it clicks. It makes sense. To marco atleast. He steps closer to the counter, placing his hands on the wood. “breathe, just breathe through it.”

Your eyes close, as if that would help with everything you were seeing. In the wooden, humid dining hall, connie stealing from your plate, repeating the same joke with him and the brown haired girl and doubling over with laughter as your beloved grumbled under his breath about how it wasn’t that funny but you knew he was smiling too; comforting connie after he lost his twin, accompanying him to ragako to see his family and listening to his stories about his small but loud village.

you did as you were told, not questioning Freckle’s instructions as you inhaled, exhaled. One, two three. Why did remembering have to be so painful? You could only faintly make out the concerned voices that filled around you, hands guiding your shoulders – they were warm and familiar is all you knew, all you wanted to know – and you try to focus on your breathing, but this name, this goddamn name sends you spiralling through a tornado, falling with you breath stuck in your chest; “connie springer” and his jokes, sitting in the dining room, standing near the stables, charging into an unfortunate carnage, flying through the trees as the branches scratch the side of your face, your cheeks stretched with the wide smile that spills from your lips, your laughter mixed with his travelling through the air because of a joke that was deemed lame by almost everyone but you.

A hand was intertwined with yours, pressing into your flesh with soft pressure despite its calluses, you note, another hand that you couldn’t feel through your clothes rested on your back, feeling the up and down of your breathing, moving their thumb in a small circle there. The wood pattern of the table infront of you, the small chatter from everyone in the café but your circle, the smell of fresh tea – chamomile, you think, you weren’t as good as Levi with the guessing game – berry flavoured gum that stained your tastebuds. Breathing in and then out. In and then out until connie springer became nothing but a name with a face and wrinkles around his eyes. Someone that could lighten the mood with one word. Someone that could hug you and pat your back awkwardly but with all the love he could muster up, which seemed to be a lot. Someone who was important to you. Was supposed to be important to you.

“better?” flower boy asks, and you know its important because he’s never looked at you like this, with this much warmth and knowing, and it was his hand holding yours. With flinching being involuntary, it left less of a choice for you to leave his grip. You can only find it in yourself to nod, a simple action bearing more than you want to imagine.

Connie’s on the other side of the table, looking at you eagerly. Freckles is to your right and Sunshine – this is what you will call her until you could have the courage to learn her name before you learn your own – is sitting to his right, connie’s left. Was his nickname just as heavy as his name? is that why you felt like this? You shift in your seat. You wonder how heavy your own name is.

“man, thought you died again with that look on your face.” Connie jokes, as always. Flower boy’s hand goes stiff in yours and you find it involuntary to squeeze it to relax him. Since when did you give yourself as much importance? Since when did you think that your touch could relax someone? Your hands have always been cold. Dead? Is that what connie said? Checked out.

“too soon.” Freckles says, a small smile on his face. Connie nods and shifts back in his seat. You don’t want to learn the rest of their names – not because you lack the courage or the grief but because you lacked the knowledge to. You couldn’t bear to hold that importance, the expectation that held up their faces, the same look your parents held, the same look that would be broken when you mentioned going to the university of paradis instead of the one you couldn’t get into. You couldn’t bear to break the news to them, their hopeful faces, looking at you for a word – your word, the one you hated to say out loud because it made your existence far more real than you’d like it to be, your name that was nothing but an outline of what you were supposed to be – and to watch their same faces fall because of everything you couldn’t provide. Your story was already written, however, because the next words you could think of were remnant of what you wanted to say and not what you were supposed to say, “so, what have you been up to?” with a pep in your voice that you didn’t recognize. You suppose you never have been able to recognize who you were.

Flower boy’s confusion to your avoidance terrified you, terrified of the importance you felt because you could identify his emotions without so much as a glance at his face. And then there were Sunshine and connie who talked over each other, their voices settling deep within your bones, everything you felt increasing tenfold, feeling like it was no longer contained within you but reached out of the boundaries of this store. It terrified you. You were giving yourself too much importance, a place that wasn’t supposed to be filled by you.

Freckles looked between the two of them, opening and closing his mouth to say something, interject their stories, and flower boy was still looking at you. You wondered what he was thinking. You wondered what you were thinking, too, to still be here. You had a plan, something that you were supposed to do. Complete high school graduation, something that would fulfil your parent’s wishes before everything else, pretend to care about further education, pretend to care about waking up no matter how exhausted your body was from never sleeping, pretend to eat, pretend to not lock your bathroom, pretend you didn’t want to let the ground bury you. It’s embrace would be infinitely warmer than whatever the air held, always smelling like built up guilt and discomfort that refused to leave no matter how many incense sticks you burnt, no matter how much smoke you filled up with. And then pretend to be alive for seven minutes as the cold felt warmer and the warmth felt colder. At least, that’s what it was supposed to feel like according to the minimal, hesitant research you had done about bodies after death.

Planned. Everything with you had to be put in perfect, cursive letters, reminding you of who you were supposed to be, of the shoes and clothes you were supposed to fill out. The heaviness of it all, too; you were listening, not quiet there, and it felt a lot like an apology. Like lost letters from friends who could never find the other’s new address because they never reached out to. It felt a lot like an admission of guilt than you actually being here, like this big performance the steps to which you were entirely unaware of, always teetering between the edge of being just enough and failing, always on thin ice.

Dead. That’s what you were supposed to be, right? Connie said it. Flower boy felt it, you were sure, and Freckles was aware of it. Sunshine tried to hide it entirely but the pea sized elephant in the room was made clear to you – you were not supposed to be here. Maybe some other, better, beautiful version of you was. she deserved it. You didnt know her but you knew that she did, and who were you to deprive her of that joy? The joy of getting to know the version of you that was long buried underground with dirt filling their lungs and whites of their eyes turned a cold grey. Whoever it was that you saw in your dreams – you refuse to call her your own name – was someone else entirely, crumpled under the weight of those fiery monsters in an island that went just as unnamed as you. Maybe that’s who they were looking for. You were dead, performing at a funeral of someone you’re supposed to know, someone youre supposed to be, and people are looking at you for answers you don’t have. They’re looking at you.

Theyre looking at you. You stare at the space between you and flower boy, Freckles is tapping you on the shoulder. You look up, theyre looking at you for answers you don’t have, expectant smiles on their faces for a voice you couldn’t bear to hear from yourself, for a name you could never make your own.

Sunshine shifts closer, her hands leaning on the table. You do the same, leaning in close so her excited whispers can reach your ears even though what she asks isn’t a secret. “what’s your name?”

right. You owe it to them.

You lean back. It hurts. You tell them who you are.

And then theres more silence. They seem to know how to deal with it – Sunshine leans back into her chair and stares as the ceiling much like connie, Freckles leans forward and rests his head on the table, flower boy stiffens entirely and you worry he isn’t breathing. He shifts closer to you without speaking and you let him. Who are you to stop him? They know you now. Or atleast, theyre supposed to. You rub circle’s on flower boy’s hand, rhythmic, performing. Speaking of a dead person was hard, especially since it was yourself. You never knew how to sign off on letters, you never knew how to give speeches or how to start them without sweating and now you had a crowd – a procession, some mourners for someone you were supposed to be – and it felt like an apologetic eulogy of someone you had never met but were supposed to know about, know of, become. It wasn’t you.

Maybe your parents were also mourners. The few friends turned strangers you had back where you regrettably grew up were also mourners.

but that was giving yourself too much importance. Who were you to have a funeral? You would never. But she – the you with the blades in your hands - could. she would. Was it him? flower boy? Who cried over your – her – dead figure drenched in blood, promising something important? Must’ve been him with the way he was holding you now but, then again, it wasn’t you being held. It was the body in the casket that went unburied not because she wasnt loved enough, but because she were loved too much.

Something that could never be you. Too much importance.

The silence was broken by Freckles. He smiled warmly, with familiar happiness, letters found by strangers turned friends after finding the right address to go to. “good to see you again.”

again, as if you’d met before. As if it was you who he’d met and loved.

You smiled back as performance, standing up with him as he took you in his arms, noting the way flower boy’s hands lingered in yours as you got up. she must’ve been important, this version of you that they had built up in their heads that you were sure to destroy with one wrong word. Freckles hugged you tightly, his arms circling your shoulders, his head resting on top of yours and you wonder if he thinks it’s an awkward form, one of your arms is pressed in between both your bodies, the other reaching around his back, your nametag digging into your chest, no doubt digging into his as well with your rapid breathing. Connie and Sunshine joined in a minute later, unable to stop themselves – how you could guess their emotions was a mystery to you. You were giving yourself too much importance, you assumed, flower boy’s hands engulfing the four of you now and despite the layers of arms covering you, you could feel his warmth the most.

You were giving yourself too much importance.

“connie, I cant breathe.” Sunshine says, her nose buried into Freckles’ dark blue sweater.

“its jean’s fault-“

“get your nose out of marco’s fucking big back-“

“just because im taller than sasha doesn’t mean I have a big ba-“

So many names being thrown without a care in the world; without the importance held under their tongues that you thought they’d hold. No longer Sunshine and flower boy and Freckles, their names meshed together with the memories and the pain of remembering, again, and you wondered why it had to be you. Why it had to be someone like you who had to hold this gun to your own head, you who had to recite a eulogy in front of strangers, you who had to forget and remember and forget again, why it was you who wasn’t allowed to give yourself too much importance, why it was you that was supposed to be important.

Your head buried itself further into Freckles’ – marco. Marco with constellations for freckles, marco who had asked you – her – for advice on what to give his youngest sister on her birthday while being so far away from her, marco who had told you your gear was loose before you headed headfirst into battle without knowing its consequences, marco who had told you that you and your flower boy make a good team after a mission, marco who’s face chewed off in an uneven chunk, half his limbs destroyed, his eyes closed. Without a goodbye.

Marco. His name was marco now, your eyes closed tighter, the chatter around you increased. Something about connie saying, “what did we do now?” only to be met with “did we not tell them our names?” “I don’t… I think we did?” “well clearly fucking not.” Followed by another pair of arms replacing marco’s, and the feeling itself made you crumble to your knees if it wasn’t for him holding you upright, your weight pressed onto him. He held you delicately, with a purpose you didn’t have the importance to serve. “I’ve got you. We’re here.” He says, and if just the sound of his voice could solve everything, you’d let him. You’d let him play god, you’d let him play with the strings of the universe that you’d let control you, you’d let him put you in your coffin and dig dirt on top of your stranger of a body.

“should I get them some tea? What’s their favourite?” previously Sunshine, now turned sasha asks. No, she was always sasha. Were you always yourself? You weren’t sure about that, but her voice makes you grimace, even with her honeyed tones flowing to your ears. It wasn’t her fault. No matter how much you tried to suppress all that you were feeling to show that you were fine because that’s what the mangled corpse of yourself would’ve done in another life, you don’t, because you're not her, and sasha’s voice serves as a reminder of her being a part of you. Bunking with her, her hair flowing over her shoulders as she took a hold of your hands and practically begged you to steal some extra rations from the kitchens, sitting on her bed after your first expedition, sitting in silence for the first time since you met her because both of you were incapable of having something to say to each other, opting to hold each other instead, brushing the knots out of her hair as she rambled to you about the countless horrifying ways her date with the blonde chef all while laughing at her drawn out conclusions about the end of the date that hadn’t even started yet.

And then there was him. Flower boy. Jean. His nickname felt just as heavy as connie’s, but if you had the strength to, you would’ve wondered why, knowing that the answer would be a low, inconsiderate hum from the universe, and the way your heart constricts in your chest makes you wonder if this serves as a punishment. The sin you hadn’t meant to commit, the sin of being someone else and trying to fill their uncomfortable shoes – maybe the hole in your chest was a cruel, albeit worthy, damnation and the only thing that brought you comfort was the fact that you had felt this before. That you had prepared yourself by knowing what it felt like to have nothing to thaw yourself from the frozen state you were in. even if it wasn’t in the same position as you were in right now, you had felt the drowning depth that your limbs ache into and ache for. The only problem was him. The same person who was quiet literally holding you up by the shoulders was the reason you were so conflicted, why everything felt worse because now you had people to let down. you knew what it was like to be held by him and you knew that it was him who was holding you and now you had to come to terms with the uncontrollable fact that you had to be the one to break his hopes. Tell him that the person he had been looking for was dead, waiting to be buried by him, body getting warmer by the minute because he was holding it’s corpse.

Dead. You were supposed to be dead, you had everything planned out. Complete highschool. Pretend. Dead. You were supposed to be dead but now jean’s warm breath is shifting the hair where his nose rested, his lips forming words you’re sure you can shape yourself into. You breathe out. He feels as real as nothing ever has and you shudder again and you think he thinks youre cold – you are – and he pulls his jacket off and on top of your shoulders as muscle memory even if your skin has never been used to the kindness he’s offering. Hes covering a corpse with his own hands. Bed of flowers growing over your previous body, you were sure, because only she was capable of growing something beautiful.

You control your breathing. You’ve done this before. back when you used to be afraid of the dark, back when everyone with a face claimed to hate you, back when the bathroom was your only respite to breathe. And then jean pulls away, only a little, and youre looking down at your shoes because you know his eyes will speak truth that you don’t want to read. His voice – vibrating, low, considerate, his – asks, “better now?”

Performance. Whoever you were in that life is capable of something far more beautiful than what you could say, and it’s a script that’s been provided for you, because you find the teetering strength to look up at him and speak, finally, with a voice that’s not yours because it’s alive. Or it’s pretending to be. “never better,” your teeth are rotting and falling out and there are maggots in your skull youre dead youre dead youre dead.

Jean smiles. The light falls down on his cheekbones and he looks like he belongs with this performance of you and youre glad your wear for worse body had provided him with a rare reason to smile like that, all soft and kind and eyes crinkled on the corners because he had lived. Your fingers move without the hesitant permission they usually openly have, brushing a lock of his hair behind his ear. His eyes fall shut momentarily, the universe baits it’s breath with patience that it hadn’t been kind enough to show you until now. You breathe in too, involuntary, unallowed, impatient, and your hand falls back down, resting on his chest, feeling the organ of his heart. A place you knew you belonged. Where she belonged. This new performance.

The stage has been set. All you have to do is act. Keep up the appearance of being the person they wanted you to be, all for the satisfaction of someone dead being miraculously alive. You wondered if your demise had anything to do with the way you unfortunately turned out – if the blood seeping out of you somehow tampered with the way you’d live (if you could dare to call it living) in this universe, in this life, but then you look over to sasha who’s deer-brown eyes have a glossy sheen to them, wide and waiting with her arms open, fingers waiting.

The stage has been set. All you have to do is act.

ACT 1, SCENE 1.

INTERIOR. BLOOM TEAS, 4:48 P.M.

SASHA’s arms open for POPPY. The lights filter in through the windows, afternoon warmth slipping into the cool of the store. CONNIE waits, expectant. MARCO’s smile is soft. flower boy JEAN’s hand on the small of POPPY's back. POPPY steps into SASHA’s embrace.

SASHA (smiling, voice cracking)

I missed you.

POPPY (reciprocating)

me too.

CONNIE (joining in)

stop gatekeeping the hug, sash.

SASHA

im not doing shit, baldy.

MARCO (joining in, chuckling)

this feels right.

flower boy JEAN (humming)

we should probably get out of here, though. That guy’s starin’ at us.

ALL turn their heads towards LEVI, who wipes down a cup, shooting glares towards the group.

POPPY

oh shit, I have to be at work right now.

SASHA (holding POPPY’s face in her hands.)

Her hands are soft, warm. Her thumb almost pokes into your eye but she’s careful to not let it.

does this mean we get stuff for free now?

MARCO

sash, I don’t think that’s allowed.

CONNIE

why not? POPPY’s an employee. There should be uh… a discount.

MARCO (turning to POPPY)

...is there?

POPPY

I wish, but no. we do get one free drink per day, though, and sometimes we get to take the leftovers home. I have some matcha cake in my fridge, if you’d like.

SASHA (grinning widely)

are you inviting us to have matcha cake at your place? D’ya have a crush on us or something?

Flower boy JEAN (groaning)

are you sure you wanna share with her, poppy?

SASHA (offended)

hey!

CONNIE

no, jean’s right. for the first time ever.

jean scrunches his face up. Its cute. If you had more importance and more of a connection to being a part of this play, you’d reach out to tap his nose with your index finger gently. Enough to annoy him but still find your affection.

MARCO

I really think we should leave, now that jean said it.

POPPY

don’t worry about it. That’s just levi.

Collective silence.

jean’s head rests on your shoulder for a moment. sasha and connie's face pales. you're not sure if its because of you saying his name out loud or if it’s because theyre still afraid of him. you wouldn’t blame them. marco simply tilts his head – you suppose he wasn’t there when levi had made everyone clean the cabin top to bottom five times over because he had found a singular speck of dirt under one of the beds.

CONNIE

yeah we should fucking get out of here I don’t want him to chop my fucking arm off.

SASHA

I don’t remember the last time I cleaned my room. Can he smell that on me? I feel like he can.

flower boy JEAN

I think he can hear it on you too. Hello captain.

LEVI enters the scene. All eyes are now on him.

LEVI

what's going on here?

CONNIE and SASHA salute, their fist against their chest.

BOTH (eyes screwed shut)

captain levi, sir!

flower boy JEAN (standing up straighter, fixing his posture.)

s-sir. Hello.

LEVI (narrowing his eyes)

names. Now.

FADING OUT

ACT 1, SCENE 2

INTERIOR. BLOOM TEAS, 9:56 P.M

you had the closing shift, and after serving some beverages and food – there were multiple rounds of this, considering sasha – and your hands shook with familiar cold as you pressed in the code to lock the back door of the café, your apartment keys heavy in your pocket, calling you back to your pyjama’s and mattress.

flower boy JEAN

hey, poppy.

POPPY flinches, turning around.

POPPY (smiling softly)

jesus, you scared me.

flower boy JEAN (also smiling, hands in his pockets)

boo.

POPPY

oh, im so scared… I hope a big strong man comes to save me.

flower boy JEAN (interlocking hands with POPPY)

right here, my love.

Huh. Love. It was strange how the nickname fell off his lips so nautrally, as if it were already there, as if it suited you and became who you were. But the name wasn’t meant for you. it was meant for this poppy. A reminder for you to stay on stage without breaking character.

POPPY (laughing softly)

were you waiting for me, flower boy?

flower boy JEAN

no, I was just… you know. Admiring this…. Beautiful alley. Yeah. Nice brick walls you got there.

POPPY (laughing)

yeah, I made them myself, thanks.

flower boy JEAN (starting to lead POPPY home)

I was going to drop you off. Missed you at the shop today.

POPPY

i forgot I took a double shift today. I would’ve told you last week if-

flower boy JEAN

its alright. Where do you live?

Another reminder that he doesn’t know you. this you, the one that half-assed decorating your apartment because you got too whipped up into the semester to care about how you lived. This you who couldn’t call any place a home. How could this you – someone who’s not a poppy or a love or a whoever he deems fit – compare to the one that had a temple built under her sacred name in the centre of jean’s heart?

POPPY

just straight and then a left. Takes about twenty minutes by foot.

flower boy JEAN hums.

Theres a lull in your barely-there script of a conversation, your hand still in his.

flower boy JEAN

you okay?

POPPY (smiling)

of course I am. Why?

flower boy JEAN

you’ve been acting kinda weird since you found out our names.

Fuck. Did he figure you out? Did you let yourself slip away? Youre supposed to be dead. Your grave was already made. Perfect coffin with your name crossed out and eyes forcefully screwed shut.

POPPY (leaning her head of flower boy JEAN’s shoulder)

just a little tired. I had a couple classes before work, so.

flower boy JEAN (humming)

wanna order some takeout when we reach your place? I know some really good pizza.

POPPY (smiling)

I’d like that.

FADING OUT, flower boy JEAN AND POPPY HAND IN HAND.

END OF ACT ONE.

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