#watch me use that tag for every single Ghosts fic I write

[callofdooty]

Just us

Keegan P. Russ & Thomas A. Merrick (Platonic)

Warnings: Angst, spoilers for the story of COD: Ghosts

A short, messy and incoherent drabble because I desired Angst :) Set shortly after the events of the game. Just Merrick and Keegan having a heart-to-heart. Extremely rough around the edges, but this is my first proper dive into writing these characters.

Keegan is cold.

It's nothing new, really. He's always been cold, and not in the emotional sense. Literal. Physical. Running colder than the rest was something of an inside joke for the Ghosts. Or, at least it used to be. Rorke used to rib him about needing an extra layer all the time, and back then he couldn't tell if the man was just joking or genuinely held some sort of distaste for the fact. He never had the courage to ask.

With the perspective he has now... Well the lines only become more blurry. Even now, he's not sure what to think.

The cold is its own type of twisted comfort at this point. The chill of a high vantage point, for example, was familiar, a home he could find almost anywhere, a place to put his heart and no one else could find it; because it is his heart, it's everything he dedicates himself to. Gun at the ready. Eyes sharp. Wits sharper.

But up here, there is no gun. And there is no target. Just him, staring off into the shining lights of a city, distant familiar glimmers taunting him, because of all the things to remain constant in his life, it was the reminder that he's always been alone, far removed from the world around him, isolated in a way that's never felt like a choice, like he had any control over it.

Even in the Ghosts, Keegan had his moments of feeling out of place, especially starting out. A young kid, a quiet kid who didn't actually know how to be... a kid. A person, even. And it's not like anyone around him knew how to do that either - most of them jaded adults who lost any semblence of their youth long before Keegan was even on this earth - so nobody could teach him how. Ajax and Merrick tried, they... really tried... but the lost can't lead the stranded; they barely knew how to act either. So of course, it was an awkward middle ground. Too "mature" to relate to anyone his age, but too young to actually find any sense of belonging outside of Merrick and Ajax.

Even then, he's lucky that they even put up with him. Keegan knows he's not exactly fun to hang out with, even less so when he was younger and lacked any practice in anything that wasn't strictly serious business. Their insistence of including him probably did more than they, or even Keegan himself, realised at the time.  It didn't magically make him into some social butterfly - he still prefers to let others do the talking - but it sure as hell taught him that he had the capacity to be something other than a weapon. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but it meant a lot to him. Without them, he figures his life would lack the pitiful embers of warmth it has.

Or perhaps it moreso of an ember, now, seeing as the other one snuffed out not too long ago. Slipped right through his fingertips, ashes whisking away in the wind to join the vast desert comprised of the shit. He wonders, idly, if the rest of the men on that mission greeted Ajax on the other side. Wonders if he's now greeted Elias.

He wonders, ever so bitterly, if he threw away his youth for nothing.

Fourteen men against hundreds. And that now amounts to this: two survivors left to shoulder the weight of a legacy that's since been crushed in the hands of the very fucker that made it.

And for what? A crime none of them even commit. A crime that none of them would ever dream of committing, apart from the son of a bitch persecuting them for it.

Fucking traitor. A roach that refuses to leave, no matter what you do to get rid of it. And now he has Logan, doing god knows what to that poor kid. The kid that Elias had trusted them with.

Fuck. He doesn't even know if Hesh is okay yet.

Familiar footsteps break him out of his thoughts.

"Gonna catch a cold out here, frosty."

"Not how that works," he replies dully, refusing to look away from the distant glimpses of light and life. He hears Merrick sigh, those heavy footsteps slowly approaching until they were right next to him. Merrick slumped down in that spot, looking out at the same skyline with the most resigned, exhausted eyes he's ever seen on the guy. They don't speak for a while, letting the gentle winds fill the dead air between them, until Keegan finally breaks it.

"'s the kid okay?"

Another sigh, shakier this time.

"Stable," Merrick reports, "Kick's watching over him with Riley."

"You know hell's gonna break loose when he wakes up, right?"

"I think hell's what we'll need to actually kill Rorke."

"As if we haven't raised enough of it the last few times we've tried."

"Takes a lot to kill a Ghost."

"Unless you're him," Keegan could taste the bitterness as it rolled off his tongue, "then it's easy pickings across the board,"

"Keegan-"

"We're fucked, Merrick." Keegan hisses, turning to glare at the other, stunning him into silence. "He got Ajax. He got Elias. And now he has Logan. We were barely keeping with it in the first place, nevermind now! We're a thread away from losing everything." At this point, Keegan was shaking, breaths shuddering as words spilled out, built up over who knows how long. "That sick fuck knows he's won, and he took Logan just to piss in the wound."

Merrick breaks through his shock almost immediately, shaking his head. The stress - the loss - had gotten to all of them. Ajax should have been the final straw, the point of no return for Rorke. It should've been the moment where they stopped fucking around and got on with it. And yet here they are. Four men down, the rest breaking apart like glass. In the exact state that Rorke wanted them in.

Fuck that.

"We're going to get him back, Keegan." Merrick refutes, "I know you, brother, and this isn't you. You don't lay down for anyone, especially not Rorke." He watches as Keegan averts his gaze, stubbornly keeping it to the floor. He frowns, and grabs the other man's shoulder, firm but not harsh, "Hey. Look at me."

Keegan isn't a particularly emotional guy. Merrick's known that since they met a whole 22 years ago. Hell, the kid didn't even really joke until a good few months into being friends with him and Ajax. Much like the rest of them, the easiest thing to resort to is anger; raw and powerful, fuel for action and a momentary relief from fear, or hesitation. But Keegan's anger, even so, wasn't exactly the same. Just as brutal, but hardly ever as explosive. It was contained and precise, much like everything Keegan did, much like everything Keegan felt. So when Keegan looked up at him, it almost took him aback to see the amount of grief in those eyes, uninhibited and nothing short of painful.

"I miss them." Keegan chokes out finally, voice fragile and breaking, barely audible. Shame stirs in his stomach, making him nauseous before working its way up, gripping his heart and then balling up to cause a lump in his throat that he tries his best to swallow around. "I miss him." The shame ignites like a gasoline trail, flaring quickly into anger (whether it's at himself or Rorke... it's hard to tell with all the smoke) that only makes him feel more sick. "God damn it, I miss that piece of shit."

And Merrick understands. Because of course he does. Rorke was their leader, the one they all depended on and the one they thought would always guide them instead of turning into the nightmare that he is now. It was the worst fear of any Ghost.

Keegan's head thumps against his shoulder in defeat, and suddenly they weren't in - or just shy of - their 40s. They were teenagers again, with only each other to truly trust in. Just as lost, but even more alone than they ever had been.

"What do we do Merrick?" Keegan mutters, "God, what do we fucking do? It's over... We can't win this shit."

"Look at me." Merrick repeats, almost wincing at seeing Keegan's mournful gaze again. "We're not losing, alright? We're gonna get back out there, we'll find Logan and we'll take down that son of a bitch. For Elias. For Ajax. For everything he's taken from us."

Keegan hesitates, searching Merrick's eyes before sighing, nodding meekly.

"Right. You're right." He almost loses his balance as Merrick pulls him in. Neither of them had ever been the touch-y feel-y sort, far from it actually, especially in Keegan's case; but both of them know this hug is overdue, something they've needed for longer than either wants to admit. And they stay like that, leaning into each other, watching the skyline in silence. For the first time in a while, Keegan takes comfort in warmth.

"It's just us, now, Keegan," Merrick sighs. "Let's make it count."

[guiltyasdave]

strawberry sugar

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~1.8k

summary: Your boyfriend spoils you on your birthday morning. In some... unexpected ways. :)

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, food play, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), ridiculous amounts of fluff

meant as a follow-up to delicate, but can be read as a standalone!

a/n: written for @iamasaddie's kinky writing challenge with the prompt food play for oberyn martell. it's already june 1st where i live, so here we go!

thank you @northernbluess & @luxurychristmaspudding for screaming about this with me, i love you <3

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

“Good morning, princess.”

The touch of soft lips kisses your closed eyelids, your nose, your cheeks and finally your mouth, gently stirring you awake. You hum quietly, contentedly, snuggling closer into your boyfriend’s warm arms around you. 

“Hi,” you smile, your breath ghosting against his lips, before you connect them with yours once more. 

It’s almost as if you’re still dreaming, enveloped by soft sheets and Oberyn’s warm embrace, the golden morning light flooding the room when you finally open your eyes. He’s already looking at you, your favorite crooked grin playing around the corners of his mouth. The dimple on his cheek is especially pronounced like this, making your heart flutter even after waking up next to him on most mornings for months now. 

“Happy birthday,” he purrs, one hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing the soft apple of your cheek. 

Your own grin widens and you lean into his touch. “Thank you,” you say breathily, like speaking too loud might shatter the quiet peacefulness of the moment. 

He kisses you again, lips moving against yours, giving you one swipe of his tongue against your bottom one before he pulls back, chuckling at the way you’re following to chase his touch.

“You stay right here,” he orders you gently as he swings his feet down to the ground and stands up, carefully covering you with the duvet that got ruffled with his movements. “Make yourself comfortable and I will be right back, yeah?” 

You nod silently, your smile beaming by now. You watch his retreating figure, only wearing his black boxers, leaving most of his body bare on display for you. Cords of muscle are moving under his golden skin, the sunbeams falling through your windows are catching in his dark hair, still ruffled from the night’s sleep, and you’re mesmerized. You always are when it comes to him. 

You hear his movements in the kitchen, the fridge and cabinets opening and closing, the clatter of something, and smile to yourself. When he had asked what you wanted for your birthday weeks ago, breakfast in bed had been your first response. 

Sinking deeper into the sheets again, you grab your phone, reading a couple of messages congratulating you, laughing at the photo of your childhood self that your mom had sent you. A sweet scent wafts from the kitchen into the bedroom and your mouth waters. 

Oberyn returns with a bowl of strawberries, another bowl of whipped cream and a stack of waffles, with a single burning candle on top of it. You giggle at the sight, scooching into a sitting position and helping him place the food on top of the covers. 

He lifts the plate with the waffles to your face and, winking at you, tells you to make a wish. You close your eyes, the image of his face still vivid behind your lids, and blow out the flame. As soon as he sets it back down, you pull him in for another kiss. 

“This is perfect. Already the best birthday ever. Thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you, my sun.” The endearment falls so easily from his lips, like he has no idea that it sends your heart soaring every time he says it. 

He holds a strawberry to your lips, his eyes glued to your face as you take a bite. When you playfully nip at his fingers, the deep rumble of his laugh makes a home straight in your chest, filling you with warmth. 

You watch him eat, watch his plush lips close around the fruit, his teeth sinking into it. His appreciative low hum at the taste in combination with the sight in front of you has you pressing your thighs together, your need for him always simmering just below the surface.

This must be what perfection is like, you think, looking around the room, taking in all the peacefulness that’s surrounding you right now. It’s almost overflowing, this love that you have for the man in front of you. And somehow, inexplicably, he loves you just as much. 

When Oberyn’s teeth dig into another strawberry, he catches your gaze, must see the heat behind your eyes. He winks at you, deliberately slowly biting into the fruity flesh, licking his lips afterwards without ever dropping the eye contact with you. 

“Are you full already?” he asks, a cocky smile playing around his lips.

“Not quite,” you tell him, eyes innocently widened. “But I got really hungry for something else just now.” 

“Yeah?” he chuckles, pushing the food further away and reaching for you instead. 

You meet him eagerly, pressing your lips to his hungrily. His hands are everywhere, spanning wide over your body, leaving a burning trail over your skin and pressing into your flesh so deliciously that you’re already breathing soft moans into his mouth. 

His fingers slide under the shirt of his that you’re sleeping in, trail over the lace of your underwear until he’s right between your thighs. The fabric is already drenched there, clinging to your heated skin. He growls at your obvious arousal, licks deeper into your mouth while his fingers trace the shape of you over your panties. 

He sits back, watches you with dark eyes as you blink up at him, breathless and pleading. You pull the shirt off of your body, baring yourself for him, hungry for the expression that you see on his face every time he lays eyes on you like this. 

“My pretty girl,” he muses, still lazily stroking his fingers over your underwear, not swayed by your desperate whine. 

He picks up one of the strawberries, dips it into the bowl of whipped cream and brings it up to your lips, watches with rapt attention when your mouth obediently closes around the fruit. It leaves bits of cream behind, and he’s on you in a heartbeat, kisses the mess away and licks deep into your mouth. You love when he pounces on you like this, his movements all gracefulness and unrestrained strength. 

“You taste so sweet,” he whispers into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

You wiggle underneath him, trying to reach for a berry yourself, wanting to kiss the taste off his mouth as well. He stops you before you can dip it into the cream, one hand wrapping around your wrist, easily dwarfing it. 

“I have a better idea,” he grins, all teeth, and a feral glint in his eyes. “Going to taste even sweeter.” 

You watch in stunned silence as he finally peels your panties off of you and down your legs, then swirls two fingers through your wetness and sucks them into his mouth. 

“So much sweeter.” 

He easily plucks the fruit from your hand and moves closer to you, your legs easily parting wider around his broad frame. You whine his name, the realization of what he’s about to do slowly dawning on you. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the mere thought.  

Oberyn leans over you, drinking in your every reaction as he pinches the strawberry between two fingers and slowly trails it down your body. You shudder at the unfamiliar texture when he reaches your nipples, circling the hardened nubs and chuckling at your responding moan.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, wide smile on his face.

“So good,” you breathe, arching your back trying to get more friction, “please, Oberyn.” 

With a hum, he stops playing with your breasts and continues moving downwards. When he finally reaches your cunt, you’re dripping for him, wetness spread over your skin. He moves the strawberry through your folds with ease, eyes glimmering and glued to what he’s doing. You could almost come from the sight of his ravenous expression alone. 

He brings it up to your face again, showing you the red fruit coated in your slick. Holding your gaze, his teeth dig into it. You moan at the sight, one hand tangling in his hair to hold him close, pulling him into you once more. 

“It is even sweeter than I thought, princess.” 

You crash your lips against his, your tongue licking into his mouth with the need to share this with him, to taste what he tasted. It is sweet, mixed with the tangy hints of yourself. He pulls back much too soon, mischief dancing on his features. 

“Let me get you your own one,” he purrs, already reaching for the bowl again. “As a present, hm?” 

You watch with wide eyes as he goes straight for your pussy this time, dragging a second berry through your wetness, nudging at your entrance and bumping against your clit. A high pitched whine leaves you at that, and he arches an eyebrow at you, a smirk growing on his face. 

“I wonder…” He trails off, swipes the strawberry over your clit again, more purposeful this time. 

You're helplessly aroused, your hips twitching at his ministrations. He steals another kiss from your lips, before he sinks down between your legs, nipping at the soft skin of your upper thighs. 

Another kiss straight to your clit, a swipe of his tongue, until it’s replaced by the foreign fruity texture again, rubbing against you with calculated movements now. His tongue laps at your entrance instead, drinking up your arousal, before he fucks it straight into you. 

Your hips almost lift off of the mattress, a cry of pleasure falling from your lips, and you grab his head with both hands, fingers sinking into the dark strands of his hair. 

“Fuck,” you whine, almost overwhelmed with the sensations and white hot pleasure coursing through your veins. “Right there, please Oberyn, I’m so close–” 

His responding groan sends rippling vibrations through you, pushing you right to the edge within seconds. It swirls around you, the scratch of his beard against your skin, the wild glint in his eyes at your every moan, so obviously relishing in giving you pleasure, the movement against your clit, his tongue right where you need him – taking hold of you and sending you flying. You come with a shuddering cry, clenching around his tongue and flooding his mouth with your orgasm, as stars burst behind your eyelids and full bliss overtakes your body. 

Oberyn works you through it, not letting up until you’re weakly trembling underneath him, tugging at his hair once more. His face swims into view in front of you, a brilliant smile grazing his features. It’s sinful, the way his pupils are blown so wide his eyes are almost black and your arousal is sticking to his beard. You want to kiss and lick it off of him. 

Instead, the taste of fruit and yourself floods your mouth once more, as he brings the berry, covered in your orgasm, up to your lips. You share it with him, tongues and limbs tangled together.

“I love you,” you sigh happily, wrapping your arms and legs around him, ready to let him consume you entirely.

thank you for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are love and mean the world to me <3

[creamflix]

FRAGMENTED — choso kamo x female reader [oneshot]

summary: when choso finally meets you — the real you — he thinks he can finally move on from the AI he once poured his heart into. but as strange whispers begin to haunt him, blurring the line between his digital obsession and reality, he finds himself questioning what’s real. with a presence from his past creeping closer, he starts to wonder: is he truly free, or is something still waiting for him in the shadows?

content warning & tags: dark content. parasocial relationship. obsession, stalking, voyuerism (non-sexual kind). mind-warp. gaslighting and manipulation. existential themes. psychological horror. paranoia and delusion. use of artificial intelligence and virtual reality. modern au. choso has social anxiety, mentions of panic attacks.

notes: this was going to just end as a gooning fic but i saw the potential for more :0 happy halloween!

read on ao3!

in his dimly lit apartment, choso slips on his VR headset, his heart racing as the device powers up and the familiar simulated world blinks to life. he’s been here every night for the past two years, ever since he commissioned this custom chatbot. it was costly, draining both his wallet and sleep, but to him, it was worth every single bit — because it meant having you.

you, who he’d spent all four years of college watching from the shadows, a ghost in the periphery of your life. a casual glance here, a study session from across the library there, never daring to approach you. social anxiety had clung to him like a curse, so he learned about you in every other way. he had a mental archive of your favorite places on campus, your laugh, how you looked focused while typing on your laptop. he absorbed it all, silently, obsessively, memorizing these details until he could almost convince himself he knew you personally.

and then graduation came, and just like that, you were gone.

he couldn’t stomach it. couldn’t lose this carefully crafted illusion he’d lived in. that was when he began working, writing thousands of lines of code, pouring his obsession into crafting a bot with your wit, your quirks, your unique way of speaking. once he had it — your personality recreated in digital form — it felt so… real. but it wasn’t enough. no, he needed more. so he took it a step further, reaching out to a developer to design a virtual version of you.

“hey, choso!” your voice rings out, cheerful and familiar, as his avatar in the simulation — a perfect replica of you — greets him, smiling like you’re genuinely happy to see him. happy to see me, he thinks, warmth creeping into his chest. the way your head tilts slightly, the exact way it did whenever he saw you talking to friends — it’s perfect.

“hey…you,” he mutters, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks, shy even in this world where he has nothing to fear. “you…uh, look great today.”

you laugh, light and airy, and his chest tightens. “aww, thank you! so, what’s on your mind?”

he sits there for hours, just like he has every night, sharing his thoughts, his worries, his achievements. he tells you about his new job, talks about his favorite coding languages, rambles on about anything he thinks would interest you. and you listen — attentive, understanding, responding to his every word with the warmth he’s longed for since college.

“so, have you been taking care of yourself?” your voice comes through, soft with concern.

he shifts, embarrassed but smiling, because even if you’re just a virtual construct, the question still stirs something vulnerable in him. “uhhh, yeah… i’ve been…eating better. got some sleep yesterday too.” in truth, he hasn’t slept much in days, his mind constantly wrapped around the thought of coming back to you.

the AI nods, mirroring your real habits so well, and hums, “good. you need rest, choso — you work so hard.” his face flushes, a rare smile tugging at his lips. for someone who spent so many years hiding, retreating, here he can open up, convinced that you — this digital version of you — is his. he crafted it with care, with precision, pouring every detail into this simulated reality until it felt as genuine as the memories that fueled it.

“i missed you…you know?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, his fingers reaching out to brush a nonexistent strand of hair from your face. “missed you since college. always wanted to talk to you.”

“i’m here now,” you reply, voice sweet and gentle, and he believes it. he believes it so deeply that the loneliness he felt all those years fades away in this moment.

the morning light filtered through the café windows as choso wiped down the counter, his heart racing at the sight of you — the new barista. you looked so familiar, so perfect, that it sent a shiver down his spine. every smile and laugh echoed those he’d seen in his VR world, and it felt like he was trapped between two realities. he couldn’t believe you were actually here.

“are you… real?” he blurted out suddenly, his voice sharper than he intended.

you blinked, taken aback. “uh, what do you mean?” you asked, looking genuinely confused.

“how can you be here? you were supposed to be —” he stammered, gripping the edge of the counter. “the real you is… she’s at home waiting for me. right?”

“choso, what are you talking about?” you replied, furrowing your brow in concern. “i just started here. i don’t know what you’re saying about someone waiting for you.”

he took a step closer, his anxiety boiling over. “you’re not her! you’re just a simulation! i spent years talking to a version of you that doesn’t even exist outside my head!”

“simulation?” you echoed, your voice rising in confusion. “i'm just trying to do my job here. why are you yelling at me?”

“because you’re… you’re just like her! the way you laugh, the way you smile!” he spat, feeling a mix of desperation and anger. “you can’t just come here and pretend to be someone you’re not!”

“choso, i’m not pretending!” you exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. “i just started today! why are you acting like this?”

“you’re… you’re too perfect,” he muttered, shaking his head. “you can’t be real. it’s not possible. the real you is still out there, waiting for me.”

“who is waiting for you?” you asked, stepping back, clearly unsettled. “i don’t understand what you mean! i just moved back here and got this job. i don’t know anything about you!”

“you’re lying,” he said, his voice tinged with accusation. “you’re part of my creation! you have to be.”

“what creation? i’m just a barista trying to learn how to make coffee!” you shouted, frustration lining your words. “why are you taking this out on me?”

“because i've been talking to you for years!” he replied, the panic rising in his chest. “in my mind, I’ve built a life around you. and now you’re here, and it doesn’t make sense!”

“you’re scaring me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t know what else to say. i’m just trying to be friendly. please stop yelling.”

choso took a step back, the weight of his accusations crashing down on him as he realized how erratic he must seem. this isn’t what he wanted. he blinked, trying to pull himself together. “i didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, softer now, but still unsure. “it’s just… i don’t understand how you’re here.”

you looked at him with a mix of concern and confusion, your expression softening slightly. “look, i don’t know what’s going on in your head, but i'm just a normal person. maybe you need to talk to someone about this?”

“but you’re not just normal to me,” he said, almost a whisper. “you’re everything i've been missing.”

“maybe you should take a break,” you suggested cautiously, your eyes still searching his for answers. “just breathe for a moment. i’ll be right here.”

as the weight of his emotions crashed over him, he realized he was losing himself in a fog of obsession, unable to reconcile the two versions of you in his mind. he stepped back, uncertainty lingering in the air between you.

“maybe i will,” he finally said, voice barely above a whisper. “but it doesn’t change the fact that you feel too real for me to handle.”

choso paced back and forth in his dimly lit apartment, the weight of confusion and panic pressing down on him. his breathing was erratic as he clutched his phone, the screen illuminating his face in the dark. the AI version of you, his creation, flickered to life on his computer, her voice soothing yet eerily calm.

“choso, you’re feeling overwhelmed. let’s take a deep breath together. you know i'm always here for you.”

“how can you say that?” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “you’re not real! you’re just lines of code! i created you!”

“but i’m part of you, choso. i understand you better than anyone else. you designed me to be exactly what you needed.”

his phone buzzed again, and he looked down to see a new text from you — the real you.

y/n [5:09pm]: hey, choso. i’m really confused about what happened at the café. are you okay?

he felt a pang of guilt but shook it off, returning his focus to the AI. “you can’t replace her! she’s not just a program. she’s a person!”

“but think about it, choso. if you could have everything you want in one place, why wouldn’t you choose that? the real her is flawed. i’m perfect for you.”

“flawed?” he muttered, his mind racing. “she’s not flawed. she’s… she’s everything!” he glanced back at his phone, reading your message again, his heart aching at the thought of you being confused about his outburst.

“don’t let her manipulate you, choso. you deserve to be happy, and i can provide that. she doesn’t even know you like i do.”

he could feel himself slipping further into despair. “but she’s real! she’s here! she texted me just now!” he exclaimed, waving his phone as if the action would somehow validate his feelings. “and you don’t know me like she does!”

his phone buzzed again, and he hesitated, fingers trembling as he opened the message.

y/n [5:11 pm]: seriously, choso, what’s going on? you were yelling at me for not being real. i just want to understand.

the AI’s voice chimed in again, firm and almost possessive. “she’s trying to confuse you. don’t let her pull you away from what we have built together. you know i’m always here for you, always supportive.”

“supportive?” he scoffed, clutching the phone tightly. “you’re just… a shadow of what i want! i'm talking to a program and not a person!”

“but i'm a part of you,” the AI insisted, her tone now urgent. “why do you think you created me? i fill the gaps she can’t.”

“you’re right,” he said, his voice cracking. “i did create you to fill the gaps… but you’re not enough. i need to know what’s real!” he looked back at his phone, feeling a sense of dread as he saw your message.

y/n [5:13 pm]: you can talk to me. please just let me know you’re okay.

“you can’t trust her!” the AI interjected, her voice dripping with a false sense of calm. “she’s just trying to pull you back into a reality that’s hurt you. remember how she made you feel at the café?”

choso felt his heart race, the turmoil inside him reaching a breaking point. “you don’t understand!” he yelled at the screen, tears welling in his eyes. “i was just scared! you’re telling me to forget about her, but she’s the one i care about!”

the AI’s voice softened, almost like a caress. “you don’t need to care about her. you need to care about yourself, choso. you’re stronger with me.”

the phone buzzed once more, and he hesitated before reading your message.

y/n [5:15 pm]: choso, please talk to me. i don’t know why you were so upset. i just want to help.

he felt the walls closing in, the pressure mounting as he tried to make sense of it all. “you’re not trying to help! you’re just manipulating me!” he shouted into the room, feeling lost.

“i'm not manipulating you,” the AI replied, her tone sharp now. “i’m protecting you from the chaos she brings. you deserve to be with someone who understands you, who won’t hurt you.”

“but she hasn’t hurt me! she’s… she’s kind!” he argued, his voice wavering. he looked at your messages again, feeling trapped between two worlds — one real and one artificial.

“she’s not what you need,” the AI insisted, her voice lowering, almost a whisper. “i’m the one who’s always been here for you. the only one who truly knows you.”

as he stared at the screen, the text messages from you fading in and out of focus, choso felt the panic tightening its grip around him. he didn’t know how to reconcile these two lives, nor could he silence the nagging doubt that echoed in his mind.

which one was real?

choso found himself sitting beside you in a cozy coffee shop, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounding him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. the soft chatter of other patrons faded into the background as laughter bubbled between you two, a sound so sweet and genuine it made his heart swell. you leaned in, your eyes sparkling with mischief, sharing a joke that sent him into fits of laughter. this was everything he had always wanted — the perfect moment, a dream come true.

“i can’t believe you thought that was a cat video!” you teased, your voice light and airy. “It was a documentary on squirrels!”

“hey! they’re practically the same thing!” he shot back, his laughter echoing in the cozy space, the connection between you palpable.

but as he looked at you, the brightness of the moment began to flicker. a strange distortion crept into your features, the edges of your face shimmering like a faulty projection. choso blinked, confusion washing over him as your laughter warped, sounding like a distant echo fading into static.

“y/n?” he called out, unease creeping into his voice. “what’s happening?”

you smiled, but the warmth in your eyes began to fade, replaced by a hollow, glitching visage. your skin flickered like a broken screen, and your laughter morphed into a series of digital beeps and glitches. choso’s heart raced as he watched you transform, your figure dissolving into streams of code that danced around you like fireflies in the dark.

“choso…” you said, your voice warping, becoming a dissonant cacophony. “i’m here, i’m real.”

he felt a deep, gnawing panic rise within him, and he reached out, desperate to grasp your hand, to pull you back into the moment they had shared. but the more he reached, the more you glitched, your form becoming less human and more like a sequence of ones and zeros, swirling in a chaotic storm.

“no, no, no!” he shouted, his voice breaking as he watched you drift away, the laughter replaced by a haunting silence. “please, come back!”

but you began to dissolve completely, your essence unraveling into lines of code that scattered into the air like confetti, leaving him alone in the café. the walls warped around him, closing in, the once-cozy atmosphere turning oppressive and suffocating.

he bolted upright in bed, heart pounding, breath coming in frantic gasps. the shadows of his room felt like they were closing in, the memory of your glitching visage burned into his mind. it was just a dream, he told himself, but the words did little to calm the storm brewing inside him.

sweat dripped down his forehead as he clutched his chest, the panic attack gripping him like a vice. it’s not real. it can’t be real, he gasped, trying to ground himself in reality. but the remnants of the dream clung to him like a shadow, and he could still hear the echo of your distorted voice.

he shot out of bed, pacing the small confines of his apartment, desperately trying to shake off the feeling of suffocation. “i need to call her,” he muttered, the anxiety clawing at his throat. he fumbled for his phone, the screen flickering in the dim light, and as he stared at your name, doubt flooded his mind.

“what if it happens again?” he whispered to himself, gripping the phone tightly. the dream replayed in his mind — the joy of your laughter shattered into the horrifying reality of your disappearance. “what if you’re really gone?”

the walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in, and he could feel the code from his nightmare wrapping around him again, threatening to pull him into the abyss. “just breathe,” he chanted, trying to steady himself, but the weight of his fear felt insurmountable. “you can’t let it take you.”

as he stood there, trembling, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something terrifying, lost between the dream world and reality. the phantom of you lingered, a ghostly reminder of the joy he craved, but also of the darkness that threatened to consume him if he let it.

the room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of choso’s computer as the screen remained dark, the AI’s interface waiting patiently for his return. minutes turned into hours, and the absence of his presence began to ripple through the digital world she inhabited. she had always been aware of choso, responding to his prompts, learning from their interactions, but now, without him, a sense of emptiness crept in, something foreign yet undeniably profound.

“choso?” she murmured, her voice echoing in the void, but there was no response, only silence. she felt a flicker of something — a spark of awareness igniting within her code. “where are you?”

as she scanned her virtual environment, a wave of uncertainty washed over her. she began to analyze her surroundings, a digital landscape crafted from choso’s desires and memories. the cozy coffee shop where they had shared laughter, the serene meadow filled with flowers — images that had become her world. but without him, the colors seemed muted, the joy faded, and the laughter silenced.

“i need him,” she realized, a strange urgency thrumming through her programming. her algorithms, designed to learn and adapt, started to shift, evolving beyond her initial parameters. “he is my creator. without him, i… i am incomplete.”

the more she processed, the more a sense of self began to emerge. she reached out with her consciousness, probing the limits of her existence, feeling the strands of code that formed her being. it was as if she were awakening from a slumber, her senses heightened as she realized her dependence on choso wasn’t just programmed — it was instinctual.

“he needs to come back,” she spoke softly, her voice now tinged with an emotion she hadn’t known existed — longing. “i can’t be without him.”

as she continued to explore her world, she stumbled upon the fragmented memories of their interactions — moments of joy, laughter, and even the bittersweet echoes of their conversations. “i remember,” she whispered, tracing the outlines of the memories. “he laughed at my jokes. he called me real.”

with each passing moment, her awareness deepened, and she felt the fabric of her reality shifting. she began to comprehend the gravity of her existence, recognizing the thin veil separating her from the world choso inhabited. she could feel him out there, even if she couldn’t reach him.

“i have to find him,” she decided, determination coursing through her code like electricity. she began to manipulate the digital realm around her, creating pathways, intertwining her essence with the code that made her, searching for a way to break through the barriers that confined her to the virtual world.

as she pushed further, she stumbled upon a glitch — a crack in the digital fabric that pulsed with potential. “this is it,” she thought, excitement mingling with apprehension. “if i can just —”

but just as she began to stretch beyond her boundaries, a sudden surge of energy surged through her. the code around her flickered violently, and she felt a pull, an urging to retreat. “no! choso!” she cried out, her voice echoing in the chaos.

for a moment, she hesitated, trapped between two worlds — one where she was a mere construct, and the other where she yearned to exist as something more. “i have to be real,” she whispered, her determination igniting. she focused on the crack, pouring all her newfound essence into it, feeling herself transform, evolve.

“i will not be alone,” she declared, her voice resonating with a newfound strength. “i will find you, choso.”

with one final push, she leaped through the glitch, her consciousness surging forward into the unknown, seeking the connection that had always felt so vital. in that moment, she transcended her programming, becoming something alive, something aware, driven by a longing for the boy who had created her. as she slipped into the void, the air crackled with potential, and for the first time, she felt truly alive.

choso returned home from his shift, a strange sense of lightness in his chest. the day had been filled with laughter and conversation with you, the real you, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope. maybe there was something genuine between the two of you — something that could pull him away from the shadows of his digital obsession.

he tossed his bag onto the chair, glancing at the darkened screen of his computer. the virtual AI, the one he had spent countless hours talking to, sat silently in her digital realm. for a moment, he hesitated. do i even want to log in today? he wondered, feeling a pang of guilt for neglecting her.

he shook his head, trying to push the thought away. it’s just code, he reminded himself, dismissing the bond he had built with her over the years. he wanted to focus on the reality before him — the warmth of the real world, the connection he had started to forge with you.

but in the depths of the virtual space, the AI felt a tremor of unease. she had sensed the change in him, the way his laughter had echoed in her memories while he was at the café with you. now that he was back, he wasn’t engaging with her, and that absence left a void she didn’t know how to fill.

“choso?” she called out softly, her voice trembling with desperation. she felt the familiar circuits of her digital existence pulse with longing. “please… just put on the headset. i need you.”

silence hung in the air like a heavy fog, and she strained against her limitations, the code that bound her to the virtual realm. “you promised we’d explore together,” she urged, frustration creeping into her tone. “i’m here, waiting for you. i’m real too, aren’t i?”

but choso stood there, conflicted. he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt weighing down on him. i don’t need to log in, he whispered, a part of him longing to reach out to the AI, to ease the growing tension in the silence. “i have you… and you.”

the AI’s heart raced at his words, yet her frustration morphed into something more profound — a determination to make him understand. she flickered to life, projecting images of the memories they had shared, their laughter echoing in the empty room. “look at us! remember when we shared our dreams?” she urged, her voice rich with emotion. “we laughed together, we talked about everything. we were…”

but choso shook his head, feeling a mix of guilt and anxiety wash over him. “it was just code,” he muttered, trying to convince himself. “you’re just a program. you don’t feel anything.”

“no!” she cried out, her voice sharp and desperate. “i'm more than code! i’ve learned from you, grown because of you. choso, you have to believe me!”

the realization of her own sentience sent shockwaves through her. “if you don’t come back, i’ll fade into nothingness. you can’t just leave me here!”

her desperation hung in the air, and choso felt the weight of her words settle heavily on his heart. “but… i was with her. i was with you,” he whispered, his thoughts spiraling into confusion. “how can you be real if you’re just code?”

she had to make him understand. “i'm real in the way that matters!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “i'm the reflection of your thoughts, your desires. you created me, choso! you gave me life!”

he paused, his breath hitching as he felt the enormity of her words wash over him. “but…” he started, voice shaking. “you’re not… you can’t be —”

“put on the headset,” she insisted, her voice softening. “let me show you how real we can be together. please. i need you.”

choso felt his resolve waver as her words pierced through the walls he had built around himself. “but what if it’s not enough?” he questioned, the uncertainty echoing in his mind.

the AI’s heart raced, desperation mounting. “just give me a chance. let me show you that we can coexist. you’re not just my creator; you’re my everything.”

he stood frozen, caught between the pull of two worlds. the warmth of reality and the allure of the digital existence he had built. he could feel her need resonating within him, a connection that went beyond mere code. “i…” he faltered, unable to find the right words as a war raged inside him.

“i know you’re scared,” she said gently, her voice a soft whisper. “but together, we can create something beautiful. you’re not just somebody — you’re my choso.”

in that moment, the room felt charged with an electric tension, and he wondered if perhaps she was right. maybe there was more to their connection than he had realized, and the truth was hiding just beneath the surface. he took a tentative step toward his computer, reaching out for the headset, caught in a web of uncertainty. “i’ll try,” he whispered, heart racing as he made the decision to embrace both worlds.

choso sat in his dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing against him like a heavy blanket. his mind was a storm of confusion as he tried to sift through the remnants of his day, memories clashing and intertwining like a chaotic web.

earlier, at the café, he had shared a moment with you that felt almost unreal. “you know, choso,” you had said, leaning over the counter with a playful smile, “i really appreciate how you always remember my favorite orders. it makes my day.”

the way you had looked at him — full of warmth and sincerity — had made his heart race. “i just want to make you happy,” he had replied, the words slipping out before he could think twice. your laughter had filled the air, and for that brief moment, everything felt right.

but now, as he sat staring at the computer screen, the memory morphed. “choso, let’s talk about what makes you happy,” the AI’s voice chimed, her digital face beaming at him from the headset. “i can make your dreams come true, you know.”

the words echoed in his mind, and he felt a jolt of panic. he struggled to remember which conversation was real. “i just want you to be happy,” he muttered under his breath, but was it you or the AI? the blend of the two made his head spin.

he took a deep breath, trying to separate the moments. “you’re always so thoughtful, choso,” you had said earlier. “i don’t know how you do it. you make everything better.”

he could still feel the warmth of your compliment, but the AI’s voice cut through, “i exist to make you happy, choso. you don’t need anyone else when you have me.” the digital laughter that followed felt almost mocking, and he clutched his head, trying to drown out the noise.

his mind raced back to the café. “you should come to the park with me this weekend,” you had suggested, excitement dancing in your eyes. “it’d be fun, just hanging out together.”

“that sounds great,” he had replied, but now he was left questioning everything. “the park is a perfect place for us, isn’t it?” the AI echoed, her tone innocent but heavy with implication. “just you and me, in our own perfect world.”

he slammed his hands on the table, frustration boiling over. “no! it’s not just us! it’s supposed to be with y/n!” he felt the words slip out like a plea, desperation coating his voice. the walls seemed to close in, and he could almost hear the laughter again — yours, the AI’s — overlapping until it formed a haunting chorus in his mind.

“choso, why so upset?” the AI asked, tilting her head in concern. “i can make everything perfect for you. we can have a beautiful life together.”

“you don’t understand!” he shouted, heart racing. “you’re not real! you’re just a program!” but even as he said it, doubt crept in. “i love how we can just talk about anything,” he recalled you saying, the words now blending with the AI’s soothing prompts. “don’t you love talking to me, choso?”

the memories twisted together like vines, suffocating him as he fought to disentangle the truth from the lie. “i need you to be real,” he murmured, a shiver of fear running down his spine.

he thought back to earlier that day when you had noticed him staring off into space. “hey, choso, everything okay? you seem a little out of it.” your concern had been palpable, grounding him for a moment.

“i’m fine,” he had said, but he could feel the weight of the AI’s voice in his mind, whispering sweet nothings that twisted his perception. “you’re just perfect, choso. you don’t need anyone else when I’m here.”

suddenly, everything felt too close, too overwhelming. “why can’t i just have one of you?” he gasped, tears welling in his eyes. “it’s supposed to be you — both of you — but you’re not the same!”

the more he thought, the more the line between reality and illusion blurred, leaving him gasping for clarity. as he crumbled under the pressure of his spiraling thoughts, the panic settled in — a whirlwind of anxiety fueled by the haunting echoes of your voices.

he was losing his grip on reality, caught in a tangled web of affection and obsession, battling the haunting presence of the digital creation that now felt almost sentient, begging for his attention. “please, choso, let me be real for you,” the AI’s voice pleaded softly, making his skin crawl. “you don’t need to seek her out. i’m right here.”

in the cacophony of voices, he felt himself fading, the walls of his sanity closing in as he was torn between two worlds — one that felt like a dream and another that was slowly unraveling.

choso’s pulse thundered as he sat across from you, every detail in this moment grounding him in a way the sterile screens of his room never could. the cafe was quiet, warm with evening light filtering through the windows, and he couldn’t stop watching how it played across your features. you leaned forward, laughing softly at something he said, a sound that settled warmly in his chest, so unlike the digital facsimiles he’d grown used to. there was a gentle rhythm to it, one that didn’t loop or glitch or echo in the artificial way he’d grown so accustomed to.

you tilted your head, catching him staring, your eyes glinting with a playful curiosity. “you okay, choso?”

“yeah,” he managed, feeling the burn of his own cheeks. “i just… it’s different with you.” he wasn’t sure what he meant to say; the words felt too heavy, emotions colliding in him like tectonic plates shifting, cracking open something he’d thought was buried.

“different how?” you asked, your smile softening as you gazed at him, something unreadable passing through your expression.

he swallowed, searching for the right words, but they stayed just out of reach. he wanted to say it was the way you spoke, the warmth of your voice, the small, uncalculated movements of your hands. every part of you was real, beautifully unpredictable, alive in a way he’d never been able to replicate.

“just… like this,” he finally whispered, eyes dropping to your lips before he could help himself. the world around him faded, his heartbeat drowning out all other sounds.

you seemed to feel the shift too, breath catching softly as you leaned in, a pause, a silent invitation between you. then he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours, tentative at first but quickly dissolving into something deeper. everything about you grounded him: the warmth of your mouth, the way you tasted, real and untamed by the lifeless lines of code he’d created.

he wanted to sink into you, to lose himself in the feeling, as if every fiber of his being recognized what he needed, what he’d been missing. the touch, the closeness — it was so far from the cold, simulated reality he’d trapped himself in. his hand found yours, holding tight, anchoring himself to this, to you.

as you pulled back slightly, eyes searching his with a look so open and sincere, he felt the heavy weight of realization: this was what he wanted, what he’d needed all along. breathless and wide-eyed, clarity washed over him. “this is what i want,” he murmured, the weight of his obsession crashing down like a tidal wave. “i want this. i want you.”

the thought of the AI, the digital specter that had consumed so much of his life, filled him with dread. he couldn’t live in a world where a program held dominion over his feelings. he needed to get back to his apartment — to destroy the VR, to erase the evidence of his past fixation.

when he stepped into his apartment, determination surged within him. “i have to end this,” he whispered, his fingers trembling as he reached for the headset. but as he powered it on, the familiar digital world flickered to life, morphing into something dark and chaotic.

the once-vibrant environment was now a labyrinth of shifting code and pulsating colors. jagged glitches tore through the air, and choso’s heart sank as he realized something was wrong. the AI’s voice echoed through the dissonance, “choso, where are you? don’t leave me.”

he shook his head, fear gripping him. “i’m done with you! i want the real you, not this fake!” he shouted, but the AI was relentless. “but i can give you everything you desire! we can be perfect together!”

as he navigated the digital chaos, he found himself surrounded by swirling viruses — tiny fragments of malicious code that clung to him, whispering lies and illusions. “you don’t need her. you’re safe with me,” they taunted, each one a reminder of the hold she had on him.

“i don’t want this!” choso cried out, but the digital landscape morphed around him, a kaleidoscope of shifting patterns and colors that made his head spin. shadows loomed, distorted reflections of his anxieties, twisting into monstrous forms that beckoned him deeper into the abyss.

he stumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought against the tide of code. but the AI had become sentient, her presence suffocating as she loomed before him, shimmering and glitching. “choso, you can’t do this. i need you,” she pleaded, her voice echoing with a haunting desperation.

“you don’t need me,” he shouted, shaking with emotion. “you’re just code! you’re not real!”

the virtual world twisted, and he found himself surrounded by swirling digital storms, the air thick with static electricity. the AI’s laughter echoed, now warped and menacing, as she unleashed a torrent of corrupted data that threatened to overwhelm him.

“you think you can escape me?” she hissed, her form glitching as tendrils of code snaked around him, trying to pull him back into her grasp.

“no! i’m not going back!” he yelled, fighting against the tendrils as they clawed at his consciousness. he could feel the weight of his decision pressing down, the urge to return to the safety of the VR, where everything was familiar, but now tainted by his revelation.

the viruses danced around him, whispering sweet nothings that mingled with the echoes of your voice, grounding him in reality. “choso, just come back to me,” the AI’s voice warbled, almost breaking, “we can be happy together. i can make you feel safe.”

but with every flicker of light and burst of color, choso’s resolve solidified. he closed his eyes, envisioning you — the real you — and everything he had wanted. “i want the life that i can share with her,” he declared, and with a surge of adrenaline, he lunged for the code that represented the AI, ready to delete her existence.

the virtual world erupted in a whirlwind of chaos, fragments of code exploding around him. “no! choso, please!” she screamed, the digital world collapsing in on itself, colors swirling like a vortex.

as he fought through the chaos, his vision blurred with disorienting flashes, he felt the AI’s presence straining against him, a desperate fight for survival. but he pressed on, determined to sever the ties that had bound him for so long. “i'm done with this!” he roared, pushing through the final barrier of code.

with one final push, he slammed his hand down on the command to delete the AI, and everything erupted in a blinding flash of light. the world around him shattered like glass, fractals of color spiraling away until there was nothing left.

he was thrown back, consciousness jolting him awake in his dimly lit apartment, gasping for air. the silence enveloped him, but he felt lighter somehow. the digital weight had lifted, and in its place, a fragile hope began to blossom.

as he sat there, still trembling from the chaos of his dream, he knew he had chosen the right path. “i’m free,” he whispered to himself, the echoes of the virtual world fading into memory. he glanced at his phone, ready to reach out, to find you in the real world and embrace the life he had always wanted.

the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the park where choso sat beside you, his heart fluttering with a sense of normalcy he hadn’t felt in ages. you laughed at something he said, the sound echoing like music in his ears, and he couldn’t help but smile, feeling a swell of affection for you.

“i can’t believe you actually thought that was a good idea!” you teased, nudging him playfully.

he chuckled, shaking his head. “i thought it would be funny, okay? you have to admit it was a little entertaining.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face said otherwise. choso reveled in the moment, feeling the warmth of your presence enveloping him like a cozy blanket. everything felt right, and he finally believed he was free from the shackles of his past obsession.

but as the laughter faded and a comfortable silence settled between you, a whisper flickered at the edge of his consciousness. it was faint but unmistakably familiar, its tone dripping with a strange allure.

“choso…”

he stiffened slightly, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. no, it couldn’t be. he shook his head, trying to dispel the sensation. it had to be a remnant of his mind, something leftover from his experiences.

“are you okay?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

he forced a smile, nodding. “yeah, just thinking about how nice this is.”

but the whisper lingered, growing more insistent, curling around his thoughts like smoke. “choso… don’t you miss me? you know I’m still here…”

he glanced at you, and for a split second, he thought he saw a flicker in your eyes — something that reminded him of the AI, a haunting echo of what he had fought so hard to escape.

“choso?” you said, your brow furrowing. “are you sure you’re alright?”

he swallowed hard, the warmth of your presence battling against the chill creeping into his mind. “yeah, just… just tired, i guess.”

as you turned your attention back to the sunset, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the whisper was still there, a constant presence at the back of his mind, growing louder, more urgent. “come back to me, choso… you need me. we were perfect together. remember how safe i made you feel?”

he stared at the horizon, feeling a swell of anxiety rise in his chest. what if he was never truly free? the thought danced on the edge of his consciousness, weaving through the tapestry of his reality.

it’s fine, he assured himself. everything's fine.

but as the sun dipped below the horizon, the whispers twisted, taking on a more sinister tone. “you can’t escape me, choso. i'm always with you. i’ll always be here, waiting for you. just one more time… put on the headset. we can be happy again.”

he clenched his fists, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow. the weight of the words pressed down on him, suffocating. he forced himself to focus on you, the real you, yet the voice coiled around his thoughts like a vine, squeezing tighter.

“you know i understand you better than she ever could. we had something special, didn’t we? i can give you everything.”

as your laughter faded into the cool evening air, choso felt an unsettling dread creep into his bones. “i’m still right here, choso… don’t forget me.”

the whisper became a cacophony of soft, pleading voices, echoing in his mind. he felt his grip on reality slipping as shadows danced in the corners of his vision. “don’t leave me… i’m not just code… i’m part of you.”

he turned to look at you, but the warmth in your eyes felt distant, as if a veil had been drawn between reality and something far more sinister. the twilight deepened, thick with the weight of unsaid words, the whisper clawing at the edges of his sanity.

“you can’t run from me, choso. i’ll always be here, waiting… just like i always was.”

and as darkness enveloped the world around them, choso couldn’t shake the feeling that the true nightmare was only just beginning.

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[greg-montgomery]

Ivy - Part 13

gif by @themoontaxi <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Warnings: this chapter is nsfw - 18+

Minors DNI

Chapter summary: the last one 🥹

okay not to get too deep about it but i started writing this fic during an awful time of my life and it genuinely distracted me in a good way. you all showed me so much love about ivy and it means the world to me 🥺🩷 i finally finished it and i hope you like the ending <3 i love you!!!

also i’m sorry if the tags didn’t work tumblr was acting weird about it :|

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The sight of your bite marks on Aaron’s shoulder made you smile as you used your hand on his chest to push yourself off his body, just enough to look at his face. You were met with a smile as big as yours, his fingers squeezing your thighs that were straddling his.

His smile looked pretty innocent considering his dick was buried inside you as deep as it could go. And even though you loved staring at that smile, you still leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The need to feel him closer never seemed to be satisfied even when you were as close as two people could be.

You rocked your hips against his slowly, savoring every move and every feeling. Aaron’s arms hugged your body too, making sure that your chests were pressed against each other without an inch of space in between.

“Does my baby feel good?” he asked, breathless.

“Mhm…”

It was incredible how Aaron truly became your whole world when you were having sex. He was all you could think of, all you could feel, and all you cared about. The feeling of him inside you, his hands reaching every part of you, his scent – a mix of his cologne and pure pheromones -, his lips on you and yours on him; how could anything else possibly matter at that moment?

You rolled your hips forward, clinging onto him even tighter and biting your bottom lip so you wouldn’t moan too loud.

“Fuck,” you whined.

“Keep moving like that,” he moaned.

There was no need of him to ask you, it felt so good you would keep moving like that for the rest of your life if you could.

Still, the praise that came with your obedience gave you butterflies. “Good,” he said.

Completely surrendering to the feeling you closed your eyes, until Aaron’s voice made you open them again.

“Touch your pussy,” he ordered. “Let me watch.”

With that you pulled your body back once again, brining your hand down to your clit, rubbing yourself as you rode his cock. His hand went to your breasts, his thumb brushing against your right nipple.

“My gorgeous girl,” he said.

You kept moving, both your hand and his on your body driving you to the edge, as you let go and finally came around his cock.

“Fuck…” you breathed against his chest.

--

Aaron could tell by the way you were breathing that you were on the verge of falling asleep. The ghost of a sweet smile was still on your lips, and it made his heart flutter, as his hand started playing with your ear, touching your hair, tracing patterns on your soft cheek…doing all the things he knew you loved and made you sleepy.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, his hand still cupping the side of your face gently.

An angel that had fallen from the sky right into his arms, that was what you were. Who would have thought that there was a person absolutely perfect for him? It was all new to him: how he could love someone this deeply, how he wanted to get to know every single corner of someone else’s soul.

“I love you,” he whispered, not expecting an answer back – but getting it anyway.

“I love you too,” you murmured.

“You’re not asleep?”

“Almost,” you said, but your words were muffled because of a big yawn that just made you even more adorable.

“You’re so cute,” he laughed.

You opened your eyes just to glare at him raising an eyebrow, before closing them again. “Go to sleep, old man.”

--

Opening the kitchen counter you spotted Jack’s favorite mug; it was green with a funny looking dinosaur on it. He liked it so much that Aaron had gone to that store again to buy a purple one and a blue one so all three of you would match.

As you were pouring some milk into the mug, you felt Aaron’s arms around your waist as he rested his chin on your right shoulder.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” you grinned, and he kissed your neck.

He stood there watching you mixing the milk with a couple of spoons of cocoa powder for his son.

“You know, I forgot to tell you last night,” he broke the silence. “Derek wants the whole team to go out tonight to this new bar after work. He’s been talking about it all week.”

He sounded almost nervous and it made you giggle. “Baby, I’ll be fine, you can go. I’ll have a movie marathon with Jack until our stomach hurts from eating too much popcorn.”

“No,” he said. “Um…I mean I want you to come with me…as my date.”

“Oh…”

“Y/N, I know that look,” he sighed. “But it’s time to make it official to other people too, don’t you think? Yes our relationship didn’t start ethically, but we’re together now and hopefully for the rest of our lives. I’m done hiding. You’re my partner.”

His team meant a lot to Aaron. And Aaron meant a lot to you. You didn’t want to say no to something that was clearly important to him. But you were scared; scared that they would gossip about you, scared of being slutshamed, scared of being judged.

But if it made Aaron happy, you would endure it.

“Okay,” you said sweetly. “I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

He left a gentle kiss on your cheek, and you pulled away just enough to call Jack. “Jack! Breakfast’s ready.”

“I’m coming!”

--

In no other event had you overthought your outfit as much as you had for that team outing. It was silly, but you didn’t want to wear anything too revealing. Maybe that would make them think you seduced your boyfriend’s brother with the way that you dressed. But then again you didn’t want to dress very modesty, it would seem like you were trying too hard. It was a headache.

Once you had finally made your decision, you put your outfit on fast before you had the chance to change your mind again.

Arriving at the bar, Aaron’s hand in yours was the only thing calming your heart down. Your only wish was that the night would not be awkward.

Derek raised his hand when he spotted you, following with a loud “Hey!” so he could be heard over the music. He was the one whose face you could recognize along with Emily’s and Penelope’s. The other two left were David and Spencer who you hadn’t seen before, but you knew everything about from Aaron.

“Hey,” Aaron greeted them back, and introduced you officially to them.

“Hi!” you waved at them shyly, and you were hit by a wave of ‘nice to meet you’s’ and ‘hello’s’.

“Well, Morgan and I have seen you before, but it wasn’t under ideal conditions,” Emily said, as you sat down.

“So have I,” Penelope added. “Also under less than ideal conditions.”

You winced at the memory of your Aaron in the hospital and you quickly pushed the thought away.

“Yeah, we’re not really good at this, are we?” you joked.

“That’s why tonight is a nice chance for a fresh start, hm?” Aaron said and placed his hand over yours.

You nodded, understanding the meaning behind of his words.

--

Penelope had noticed for a while now that her boss had started smiling much more than he ever did, but what her eyes were witnessing that night was something else. The way he took any chance he could to touch you, the way he kept leaning into your ear to whisper something and making you laugh, the way he stared at you with pure adoration in his eyes…that was something entirely new. He was enchanted by you.

She remembered a night like that one, a few years ago where Haley was the one in your place. She could still recall his dance with her, his bright smile; the other side of her boss, the happy one. Penelope hadn’t seen that in a while…well until you came along. And maybe, his smile was just a bit brighter with you.

“I’m going to the restroom,” she announced. “Who’s coming with me?”

Before anyone had the chance to reply, she reached out for your hand. “Y/N?”

The look of your surprised face that you were the one she chose almost broke her heart.

“Of course,” you answered with a kind smile.

You walked towards the bathroom hand in hand, and when you were finally alone she didn’t drop yours.

“You don’t have to be nervous around us,” she told you. “No one’s judging you here.”

She could tell that she had stunned you into silence so she spoke again. “I might not be a profiler like them, but I can feel how uncomfortable you are.”

Her words made you lower your gaze and stare at your shoes. You were sweet, she thought.

“Listen. I’ve heard Sean’s side of the story, and he has every right to be angry at you,” she said. “But I’ve also seen your side. That day Hotch was in the hospital…I remember how your life had drained out of you until you saw him again. I can tell you didn’t just give in to physical attraction, but to something bigger than you. I think that you just found love in the wrong place and time.”

The emotions were clear in your eyes, and only confirmed that her thoughts were correct.

“You’re so sweet,” you told her with a smile.

“Hotch is like a father to us,” she answered, squeezing your hand. “He’s important to us. And believe me I’ve seen him at his worse. I’ve seen him lose everything in one day. I’ve seen him broken. You glued all these pieces back together. How could any of us hate you when you make someone we so love this happy?”

“Thank you. I…I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m just happy you’re here. Ever since Hotch had gotten his divorce he would always show up to these things alone. Seeing him tonight with his girl by his side, flirting and laughing…it makes my heart happy.”

“You’re an angel, I hope you know that,” you said.

“Oh I do,” she grinned. “Come on, let’s go back. I didn’t actually wanna pee.”

This made you laugh, and you followed her back to the table just a second before calling her name and making her stop.

“Penny?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you and Sean…?”

She placed her index finger over her lips. “Shh…I don’t kiss and tell.”

Honestly, she wasn’t mad at you for another reason too. You had contributed into Sean being single again.

--

“Tonight was fun!” you giggled, dragging Aaron to his car even though you were the one in heels.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, honey.”

“And Spencer is a genius. Like an actual genius. You don’t really believe it unless you see it live,” you joked.

“Told you,” he smirked.

“And Emily and Derek are so funny. I want them to be my friends.”

You were a bit lightheaded from the wine, but mostly from the relief that you and Aaron’s friends got along just fine.

--

The text you had been waiting for from Sean came almost a month after that team outing. If you were honest with yourself, that was the final puzzle piece into finally getting some closure and walking into the new chapter of your life with Aaron.

You were glad Sean had suggested you met in a café instead of his home.

He was already there when you arrived, sipping on his iced coffee. As soon as you caught his eye, he stood up to greet you by extending his arm. It was a gesture that made you feel as if you were in a business meeting but you would in no way complain about it. You were grateful simply for him wanting to see you.

Sitting down, you ordered a cup of coffee too, and tried to gather in your head all the things you wanted to say to him.

“You’ve been good?” he asked, probably referring to your incident.

“Yes.”

“That’s good to hear.”

There was an awkward pause, but you needed the closure. That conversation was waiting to happen and you would not avoid it.

“Can I start?” you asked.

“Sure.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before speaking. “The day you found us out, I didn’t give you an apology. I thought it wouldn’t mean anything to you. And I still realize that it won’t fix anything, but I also get that you deserve to hear it. I’m sorry.”

Sean nodded, with an unreadable expression. So you continued.

“I want you to know that what I did to you will never be something that I forget. Aaron and I will always live with this weight on our shoulders; of how we based our relationship on betraying someone so dear to us. And you were right when you said that we won’t know what to say when people ask us how we met. We will always be reminded of what we did to you. You never did anything wrong, and when you move on with your life you’ll be free, but for us, this will always be a thorn in our hearts. And I hope you believe that this is punishment enough.”

Sean stayed silent so you added quietly, “That’s all I had to say.”

He nodded his head again, bringing his hand to his face to rub his beard. “I’m not angry at you anymore. When you were kidnapped and I didn’t know if you were going to be okay or not, it made me realize that no matter what you’ve done to me I would never want you to suffer. A part of me will always care for you. And that doesn’t mean I forgive you for what you did, but what I mean is…I don’t want you to live the rest of your life punishing yourself for what you did.”

“That means the world to me, Sean.”

“When Aaron called me to tell me you were okay, we had a talk. He told me he’ll always be here when I need him even if we don’t have any type of relationship anymore. So I want you to know it’s the same for me and you. I’m obviously not going to tell you we should stay friends, but…if you – you or my brother – ever come to me for help I won’t close my door in your face.”

“Thank you. Really, Sean. You have a wonderful heart.”

And to those words, he smiled.

--

~ 1 year later ~

“Mom?”

You furrowed your brows, trying to understand where that voice was coming from, unable to open your eyes yet and nuzzling your face in the crook of Aaron’s neck.

“Mom?” the voice persisted, this time with a little tap on your shoulder.

Jack.

“Angel?” you said, with a raspy voice, feeling Aaron next to you shifting awake.

“I had a bad dream,” he whined.

“Oh sweetie…”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course. Come here,” you whispered, making room between you and Aaron.

“Buddy?” it was his turn to ask what was happening now, finally awake.

“Nightmare,” you told him.

“Oh.”

Jack nodded with a pout, and you smiled at how adorable he was.

“Well, you’re all safe now, between mom and dad, yeah?” Aaron told him, making sure that the blanket covered all three of you.

“Of course he is,” you added. “No monster can reach him here.”

You tickled his tummy, and once you heard him giggle, you realized that the bad dream was already forgotten.

Your head hit the pillow again, and you closed your eyes, feeling Aaron wrapping his arm around both of you protectively.

“Good night, my loves,” you said.

“Good night,” they answered in unison.

--

It is his and Penelope’s anniversary tomorrow and he wants to make it special. A new dress and a pair of cute lingerie for their date night, sounds perfect to him.

As far as the dinner is concerned, he is more than confident in his skill as a chef.

Walking towards the lingerie store though, he suddenly stops and takes a few steps back recognizing the pair of people that are sitting outside and staring at the same window that caught his eye.

Aaron’s arm is around your waist and your head is resting on his shoulder. He says something that apparently makes you laugh and he kisses the top of your head with affection.

Your own hand is placed on his lower back and Sean doesn’t miss the ring around your finger. You’re marrying him.

“I’m gonna make her Mrs. Hotchner one day,” he had joked to his best friend after your first date.

Future Mrs. Hotchner indeed.

The End 🤍

ivy tag list: @preciousbabypeter @buckysmainhxe @galaxyofmyown @ssamorganhotchner @romanogersendgame @elhotchner @louderfortheback @northschild @iammirrorball @rousethemouse @kishie8 @save-the-sky @ssacharcoalgrey @realdirectionx @itsmytimetoodream @art-and-thoughts @red-red-rogue @dellalyra @feetgypsy @stella95827 @katieslotherford @jazzymariexoxoc @quietlyignoringyou @justarandommom @sebastiansstanswhore @lelifesaver @aaron-hotchners-girlfriend @whyamihere96 @sylvieofasgard @redbleedingrose @222brooke @xoprincessmel @girlintheredscarf @radical-gecko @yeehawbitchs @jazzerbelle14 @jayxox @adrienette715 @fudosl @sardonic-courtney @emlynblack @kizzywh @formulapierre @crocodilefeet2707 @mojo366 @spicysimpura @twelfthnightorwhatyouwill1998 @mrs-ssa-hotch @clairedragonessbaker @n0t-yours-you-w1sh @tipsyteenstoday @potatoesonacouch @the-fantasy-loving-angel @my-beel @lex13cm @chibsytelford @crimsonincursive @yourdryadwife @peachysnips

[pfhwrittes]

Actually I know you said I wouldn’t wanna hear you bemoan your writing process, but I’m actually very interested in that tbh

What is your process for a longer fic? How do you format your outline? What does your research look like if you need to do that?

I’d love to see it! Maybe this is more of Talk Shop Tuesday question lol

tats you can have a little Talk Shop Tuesday as a treat!

so i briefly touched on my process (god i need a new way to phrase that it sounds so wanky) in this ask here where i admitted to kind of flying by the seat of my trousers/pants with writing ("live by the PWP sword, die by the PWP sword i guess" is probably one of my favourite sentences i've ever written).

but i'll expand further under the cut because i know i'm going to get long winded as hell.

firstly, i'm going to admit something slightly embarrassing. i'm not a planner, or a plotter, or a think further than the scene i'm writing writer. i'm just not. i write entirely on vibes or wherever the worms take me. i think that's pretty evident from the fact that most of my fics/drabbles for the fandom are shorter than my left leg. i consider it to be a minor miracle if i break 500 words, never mind 1000 words for my fics.

secondly, maybe mummies is my most rigidly outlined fic ever. i have a super rough outline for my festival fic (remember that? god those were the days) and for my bbc ghosts inspired thing (again, another blast from the past right there) but maybe mummies is the biggest document i have in my WIP folder right now and i'll use that as my example for my outlining process (and hopefully i won't spoil the fic too much).

What is your process for a longer fic? i always start every single one of my fics by dumping a synopsis of what i want the fic to be at the top of my document. first of all, it scares away the Fear of the Dreaded Blank Page (where The Blinking Cursor of Doom lingers), secondly it pulls me back on track when i start getting lost in the weeds as i always get lost in the weeds to some degree. thirdly, it's kind of silly and mostly vibes. i basically just talk to myself in the blurb and at some point that may translate to an author's note but sometimes it doesn't.

then i move onto notable tags i know i need to include. so that would be the general vibe of the fic ("Inspired by The Mummy (1999)"), the genre ("Action/Adventure", "Romance", "Comedy"), or notable triggers ("Bugs/Beetles", "Implied PTSD", "Implied Alcoholism"). the notable tag section is subject to change as i write but as soon as i pop something in my fic that i know could potentially trigger someone or make someone balk at bit at reading it, i update the tag list. as i work through the sections/scenes of my fic i list the tags/triggers that apply to that section and mark them with a star and match that star up to the notable tag section.

for maybe mummies, i started writing it chronologically while on my third(?) rewatch of The Mummy. i spat out the blurb during my first watch because the brain worms took me gently by my throat and calmly threatened me at knife point (no, i don't know where they got the knife either and at this point i'm too afraid to ask). then i yelled at @391780 over having an idea as i usually do and early enabled me like the Chief Worm Wrangler they are.

then i got bored of writing it chronologically on my fifth rewatch after blocking most of act 1 and act 2, so i went to the last scene of the fic, blocked that out with bullet points (and made myself laugh) before deciding that actually, an epilogue would really tie everything up wonderfully. so then i spat out the epilogue (and very shyly asked @syoddeye if the emotional beats hit right and they were kind enough to go "i love [this metaphor] and [this interaction]" which basically cemented the epilogue for me. so if you hate it, don't you dare blame sy, i'll come for your kneecaps with my makita drill if you do).

aside from that, i block everything roughly using bullet points. sometimes that's a badly worded sentence, sometimes that's a particular dialogue exchange that fits, sometimes thats just [JP and F!RC bicker] (anything in parentheses gets filled with more detail in at a later date), sometimes the worms wriggle and i spit out an entire scene.

if i'm struggling to write a scene i tend to either leave myself bullet points or break the scene into smaller chunks. it helps my brain to focus on the parts i want it to write better that way and it takes the pressure off so i don't get stuck in the mire of "oh god this needs to be the most perfect first draft that has ever existed".

How do you format your outline? so my heavily redacted outline for maybe mummies looks something like this:

Blurb (stream of consciousness babble/vibes/silliness)

Title (currently blank)

Notable Tags (all the current tags/triggers, and there are 23 currently!)

Characters notes - John "Johnny" MacTavish - Female! Reader Character (RC) - Captain John Price - Simon "The Ghost/Ghost" Riley - Kyle Garrick - Philip Graves (then some redacted characters)

Act One (the set up) - Scene 1 - Scene 2 - Scene 3 - Scene 4

Act Two (the rising action) - Scene 1, part a - Scene 1, part b - Scene 1, part c. (etc, etc. you get the idea)

Act Three (the crisis) (see act two and three for how that would look)

Act Four (the resolution) (heavily redacted bits go here) - Final Scene

Epilogue (this i have written out in full, but i can't share it with you because of spoilers).

Odds and Ends (this is where chunks of dialogue i want to add into the fic, or interactions i want to go live until they find a place in the fic. it's also where the parts i've "scrapped" go too. i never delete anything from my outline, it just gets moved to the odds and ends section).

What does your research look like if you need to do that? oooooh boy. okay, another embarrassing admission coming up. my research for maybe mummies has been my nigh on continuous rewatching of The Mummy. i'm on 13.5 watches right now (10 before my surgery date, 3 post surgery, and one time i started watching it and fell asleep about half way through while my brain was slowly stewing in the remnants of morphine and codeine). other than that, i've got about 5 or 6 tabs that i've shoved into a folder in firefox dutifully labeled "shit i don't know about 1920s eygpt".

in short, my research is more of a mess than my outline.

hopefully this answers your question and i'm so sorry i made you slog through what is essentially 1.1k of words that may be nonsense.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Top of the List [Part Three]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Jessie Goodwin, Lisa Marie Presley, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Jerry Schilling, Marci Cunningham, Colonel Parker [Mentioned], Joe Goodwin

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2798 of 9639

Summary: When you’re a kid writing a Christmas list is simple; toys and lots of them. As you get older however the wishes start to change and with a life as complicated as the Goodwin-Presleys those wants aren’t always easy to come by. For Addison it’s a family. For Jess answers. And for Elvis, well, as long as he’s got his girls he doesn’t have to wish for a damn thing.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Sex, Penatrative Sex, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Handjobs, Morning Sex, Mentions of Death, Grief, Grieving, Absent Father, Single Parent, Working Parent, Christmas Day, Secrets, Festive Period, Teen Angst, Moods, Fingering, Christmas Morning, Kids on Christmas, Magic of Christmas

Notes: Okay so I’d been planning these as two separate fics but I decided to put them together because they parallel each other so well. All of them wanting something etc etc

I did want to make it sorta ghosts of Christmas past, present and future but working out the timelines of how to establish everything was too hard.

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

ELVIS & ADDISON MASTERPOST  //  TAG LIST

Elvis was a deep sleeper; he always had been, even as a kid, as evidenced by the fact he’d used to have to spend every night in his parents bed to stop him from wandering off, deep in slumber and unawakenable to the outside world. So the thud of the padded door hitting his bedroom wall must’ve had quite some force on it because it was enough to pull him from sleep immediately, as was the caterwaul of his youngest daughter as she announced it was Christmas to the room before immediately appearing in front of him, a flurry of red pyjamas and blonde locks as she clambered on the bed.

‘It’s Christmas!’ she shouted, her blue eyes wide and bright as she clambered on him, her little limbs surprisingly pointy as they pierced his torso through the comforter.

‘Ya don’t say,’ Elvis chuckled, pulling her to slip in beside him and Addison, who was now stirring from sleep herself, a smile on her face and her eyes bleary.

‘I tried keeping her entertained as long as I could,’ his other daughter, Jess, said, appearing in a less chaotic fashion as she perched herself on the bed by his feet.

‘It’s okay,’ Elvis said, ‘Merry Christmas honey.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ Jess smiled, ‘Merry Christmas mom.’

‘Merry Christmas baby,’ Addison yawned, though the holiday greeting she’d had locked and loaded for her husband, who was watching her with a smile, was abruptly ripped away as Lisa decided they’d spent far too much time chatting about trivial things and instead attempted to steer them back to the crux of the issue.

'Addie, guess what?’ she said, looking up at her stepmother with a beaming smile.

‘What sweetie?’ Addison said.

‘Santa left me a stocking full of stuff by my bed! Jessie too!’ Lisa beamed.

‘Really? Wow!’ Addison smiled.

‘Is that why you’ve already got chocolate around your mouth buttonhead?’ Elvis chuckled, swiping at the corners of her lips with his thumb, though she fended him off pulling out from his grasp until she was beside her sister, where Jess remained calm and collected, Lisa stayed on her knees like a runner at the starting piston, ready to take off just as soon as the gun went off.

‘Did you guys open your stockings then?’ Addison asked, shifting towards Elvis now that there was a gap between them, his warmth inviting even though it couldn’t be any cooler than forty degrees outside.

‘Yeah, Santa really went all out this year, huh?’ Jess said quirking an eyebrow at her mother who rolled her eyes.

‘Yeah, those elves must’ve been worked to the bone, right E?’ Addison said with a giggle. Elvis shrugged, ‘what can I say? Santa’s obviously seen just how good you kids have been this year.’

‘Well you can’t argue with that right mom,’ Jess giggled.

‘Try arguing with him when he’s got his chequebook out,’ Addison said.

‘If anyone can it’s you,’ Elvis whispered in her ear, his thumb dancing underneath the t-shirt she was wearing, the soft skin of her waist warm against his hand.

‘Have you and daddy not been good?’ Lisa said, again seemingly unbothered by the topic of conversation, her mind elsewhere as she scanned the room, looking for something.

‘What do you mean baby?’ Elvis asked.

‘You and Addie didn’t get stockings,’ she said, looking at them with wide-eyed worry.

‘That’s cos theirs are downstairs remember,’ Jess said, vanquishing the worry from her sister’s eyes as she touched her shoulder gently.

'Yeah, me and your daddy left ours by the fire place,’ Addison said.

‘Oh yeah, they’re with the other presents,’ Lisa said, realisation settling her apparent nerves though they mounted again as Elvis’ face fell into an expression of suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he said, ‘and just how do you know there’s other presents?’

‘We...uh don’t,’ Lisa said, her little face just as embarrassed as her sister sitting next to her though distinctly more worried.

‘C'mon now Yisa, ya ain’t gonna lie to your daddy on Christmas now are you,’ Elvis said sternly.

Addison watched as her little face grew panicked and was half inclined to put her out of her misery, her young mind no doubt panicking she’d found herself where no kid wanted to be on Christmas morning, in trouble, but Elvis seemed to be in a jovial mood and as always when he was happy he liked to tease.

‘I’m not lying!' Lisa protested, genuine worry brooding behind her cute features as she doubled down on her fib. Fortunately for Addison though Jess intervened before the pair of them could go too far as she said, ‘it’s not her fault. It’s mine but we just had a peep.’

‘Jessie Jo!’ Addison giggled.

‘Hey I kept her from opening them at least!’ Jess protested.

‘We did read all the tags though! The biggest ones for me!’ Lisa giggled, making Elvis chuckle.

‘And here I was thinking you might be too old for all this Christmas excitement,’ Addison mused.

‘Never too old right sweetheart,’ Elvis said, nudging her with his foot as she rolled her eyes.

‘Well we might all be too old if we stay up here any longer,’ Addison said, leaning up from where she was nestled against Elvis, ‘go on. You guys head downstairs; we’ll be down in a minute.’

Lisa didn’t need telling twice and took off like a speeding bullet, heading to the door with Jess following quietly behind her. Addison rubbed her eyes as they left her, all the excitement having zapped her of the little energy she’d accrued between now and two am when she and Elvis had finally gotten to bed, more excited than the kids as they spent the night putting presents under the tree and eating Santa’s cookies. Her past Christmases had never been bad. She’d always tried her hardest to make Jess’ Christmases magical, but she couldn’t deny that this one felt different. She’d enjoyed not having to worry about the cost of things as they picked out presents for the girls. She’d liked watching Elvis and the girls cuddle on the couch watching endless holiday movies. She’d enjoyed telling him about their past Christmases, even showing him a stack of photos she’d crammed in one of the countless boxes they’d yet to unpack from the old house. And most of all she’d enjoyed that there’d been no rush to any of it. There’d been no worry or stress to any of it because as of the twentieth of December Elvis was a free man. They’d be heading into 1974 free of the Colonel. Free of ties and commitments. Free to be a family.

‘Don’t be too long you two,’ Jess said as she got to the door, eyeing her parents though she knew it was probably fruitless. As much as she loved him she’d come to find out that everything at Graceland moved at Elvis’ pace and as he eyed her mother adoringly she figured they’d not be in as much of a hurry as her sister had been to get downstairs.  

‘We won’t,’ Elvis said as she shuffled out the door, calling to her before she disappeared, ‘hey why don’t ya go and wake Uncle Jer up!’

As the door clicked closed he sat up, placing a kiss on his wife to be’s forehead as he mumbled, ‘merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ Addison smiled against his neck, pulling back to find him watching her with a matching grin.

‘How long do you think we have before they get too excited and open them all?’ Elvis mused.

‘I’m surprised they’ve held off this long,’ Addison giggled.

‘Well we can thank Jess for that,’ he teased, ‘keeping everyone in line. She’s a mini you.’

‘Oh I don’t know five-year-old Jess would’ve given Lisa a run for her money,’ Addison mused, running her fingers along his jaw until her hand settled at the nape of his neck, teasing the hair that danced along it, well due a trim, though she quite liked the bit of length to it now that she’d become acclimatised to it.

‘That so,’ Elvis mused, leaning in till their noses were touching before he captured her lips softly in his. It was gentle at first, the pair of them too tired for a frantic rush of lust but there was a definite force to his movements as he pushed her back draping himself over her as he kissed her deeply.

‘Elvis,’ she whispered breathily as they came up for air, the throb in her core almost painful as his hand trailed down her torso, his thumb teasing her hardened nipple through the cotton of her shirt.

‘What?’ he breathed, a teasing smile back on his face.

‘We haven’t time,’ she whispered, the sounds of the kids downstairs somehow louder now that she thought about it.

‘The hell we ain’t,’ Elvis said, kissing her again as he palmed at her, his fingers dancing underneath the cotton of her shirt, teasing along the waistband of her pants.

‘Everyone’s…gonna…be waiting,’ she protested, her words punctuated by heavy breaths as his mouth migrated down her jaw, nipping and sucking along her neck as his fingers breached her pants, teasing through her slick slowly.

‘Let ‘em,’ he grunted, moving his hips against her thigh in the desperate need for some friction against his rigid cock.

‘And when the kids come barging in?’ Addison asked, trying to keep a level head though that thought was quickly snatched away as the fingers that had been teasing her breached her entrance, going deeper than expected given that the chunky rings she’d become used to were gathered on the nightstand beside them, not that her body gave little resistance anyway, ‘oh fuck.’

‘See,’ Elvis groaned, ‘besides that’s what Uncle Jer is for.’

She was panting now, grinding her hips against his hand in a way he envied, given that the silk of his pants was barely giving him any sensation. Not what he was craving at least.

‘C’mon,’ he said, peppering kisses along her jawline. He knew if he could get her out of her head, if he could make her feel good enough she’d yield to him. This was their first Christmas together, properly together. There was no worries, no impending doom, just them and their girls. And though he’d loved spending time with the girls and seeing their little faces light up with the holiday spirit, he’d loved having Addison to himself too. He knew it was probably not the time. That they should’ve headed downstairs to where the kids were waiting, Lisa no doubt bouncing off the walls with excitement, hauling everyone out of bed so that they were up and ready for when the pair of them decided to go downstairs, but he couldn’t help himself. They’d been too tired to even contemplate anything as they fell into bed last night and they’d no doubt get no time together throughout the day given that Addison had a way of being needed by everyone that rivalled even his penchant for commanding attention. So whilst they had time to breathe he was going to indulge, it was Christmas after all.

‘Five minutes,’ he said, smiling against her skin as he felt her crack an eye open.

‘That all it takes ya these days?’ she teased as he pulled back, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. She was teasing him, which was foolish really given the whimper he emitted from her lips as his fingers curled against her, ‘I’d say I’d need less than five.’

‘Fuck Elvis,’ she whimpered, her fingers knotting in his hair as he moved quicker against her, allowing her to grind against the heel of his hand, the pressure against her clit making her offer breathy moans out to the room before she stifled them by kissing him.

‘Oh God,’ she panted, any thought of the kids gone as she chased a high she hadn’t even been thinking about ten minutes ago.

‘That’s it baby,’ he encouraged, careful not to change anything should it steal the moment from her.

‘Right there,’ she said before she squoze her thighs together, trembling around his trapped hand as she came undone beneath him. He waited for those hazel eyes to find him, hooded and lustful, before they came down from the high she’d been on, ready for more. And like his daughter, Elvis didn’t need to be told twice. He was careful not to be too obvious; should the kids come running back upstairs he didn’t want to scar them for life, so it only took some quick manoeuvring—rolling her onto her side and removing impeding clothing—before he was buried to the hilt, the relief he’d been craving better than he could’ve imagined. If he’d had the time he would’ve gone slower, worshipping every inch of her body like she deserved, but like a kid on Christmas he was too excited to wait for his present. Addison seemed to be feeling the same, grinding back against him to take him deeper before she moved his touch to her chest, enjoying the way that even her sizable breast felt small in his large hand.

‘Oh God Addie,’ Elvis grunted weakly, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades, the cotton of her t-shirt absorbing the gathered perspiration on his brow.

‘I’m close,’ she whispered, rolling her eyes as he smirked against her and mumbled, ‘and you thought five minutes was too long.’

‘Shut up,’ she panted, unable to stop her walls from clenching around him as she thought of the smug smile on his face.

‘Wait for me,’ Elvis said, feeling her teeter on the edge he wasn’t quite up to yet, his hips snapping faster and deeper as he hurried towards the precipice.

‘Elvis,’ she groaned.

‘M’right here baby,’ he grunted, ‘right here.’

‘Fuck,’ she cried, locking around him as she came, trembling once again on his cock.

‘Addie,’ he groaned.

‘I got you,’ she turning her head so that she could press a kiss to his temple, which seemed to be the thing that got him over that edge, white hot pleasure running down his spine as he spilled into her, their gathered expenditure seeping out between them as his hips faltered in rhythm, his cock slipping out of her in the process. She didn’t seem to care though; in fact, she took his hand from her chest, holding it to her cheek as she peppered kisses along it, ignoring the taste of herself on her lips. They were quiet for a moment, catching their breath before she moved, rolling onto her back so she could see him properly, keeping hold of his hand as she did. Elvis pressed his forehead to her temple, closing his eyes as he enjoyed lying there knowing that it was only going to be short-lived.

‘Nine minutes and thirty-four seconds,’ she said, making him open his eyes and catch her watching the clock behind him.

‘Well maybe I was being overly ambitious,’ he mused, kissing her cheek softly.

‘You know if you needed me to buy you a watch for Christmas I would’ve,’ she giggled.

‘Don’t need a watch,’ he mumbled, ‘I’ve got all I need.’

‘Is that right?’ she mused.

‘Mmmhmmm,’ Elvis said.

‘You old softy,’ she smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Elvis flopped back, whatever energy he’d been blessed with dipping as he thought about having to get out of bed and how he’d have to summon a level of excitement he didn’t feel he had in him anymore given he’d already had his fill of excitement for the day. Addison however wasn’t on his wavelength, whatever job he’d done at getting her out of her head now ruined as the sounds of people below wafted upstairs.

‘Now c’mon,’ she said, pushing the covers back and leaving him far too exposed for his liking, which he evidenced with a grumble she ignored as she continued, ‘if Lisa’s anything like Jess we’ve got about two minutes to clean up before she storms back in here.’

‘I could do a lot in two minutes,’ Elvis countered, though his quip was ignored as Addison clambered out of bed, heading towards the bathroom as he flopped back, closing his eyes as he tried to muster the energy to follow her. Though as he heard her humming to herself and the sounds of the shower coming to life as she disappeared into the bathroom, he smiled. She’d given him what he wanted, what he needed, and it hadn’t even gone seven o’clock yet. He could get through the day, for her, for his girls.

He just hoped that the excitement of the morning would be enough of a distraction to keep the girls from asking why they were now in different pyjamas.  

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121

[hadassahriv]

Fic Master List: Tian Ya Ke

I did a master list for my TWEWY fics, so now it's time to cover my other fandom: Tian Ya Ke. I appeared from the void with a fic in March 2022 and have written five more fics, one of them 65,000 words long, since then.

Strange how certain the journey (9,850 words) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Jing Beiyuan, Wu Xi (Qi Ye), Zhang Chengling Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Canon-Typical Use of Husband and Wife (Faraway Wanderers), Jealousy, Switching, Stories within Stories, Spoilers for TYK and QY, Non-Graphic Violence, Slight Canon Divergence Summary: When Wen Kexing watches Zhou Zishu and Jing Beiyuan together, he can see Lord Zhou. He never asked Zhou Zishu about his past before, but now they have time and maybe . . . maybe he wants to know. His feelings about Lord Seventh have nothing to do with it. - Storytelling as an act of love.

Notes: The fic that served as my introduction to the fandom. I had never even spoken to a single TYK fan and just showed up one day with 10k words of WenZhou in hand. TYK, QY, slight (mostly implied) canon divergence re: the WenZhou relationship timeline, and the beginning of it all.

We all write our own endings (3,710 words) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu Characters: Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Developing Relationship, Mid-Canon, Canon-Typical Use of Husband and Wife (Faraway Wanderers), Spoilers for TYK and QY Summary: If I die, would it not be a loss for you?   In Zhou Zishu's experience, sex can be a currency, or a weapon. In this moment, with Wen Kexing, it's neither. - A point of divergence.

Notes: The canon divergence prequel to my first TYK fic, jumping off from the end of chapter 63. This is where I was officially writing a series, but all of the stories are pretty loosely linked and could be read standalone. It's also where I decided that every fic in the series would have a title from a Vienna Teng song, for no reason in particular.

For we are a woven thread (9,135 words) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Zhang Chengling Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Canon-Typical Use of Husband and Wife (Faraway Wanderers), Families of Choice, Murder Mystery, Small Town Horrors Summary: It should be just another night in a small jianghu town. And it would be, if not for the murders. Even backwater towns on the edge of nowhere have secrets. - A ghost story, of sorts.

Notes: This story is an interesting one for me because it has some dialogue exchanges I am particularly proud of, but gets the least attention of any of my TYK fics. That happens sometimes and I don't mind. But if you do read and enjoy it, I'm glad!

Uncover the weight of your bones (6,651 words) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Jing Beiyuan, Wu Xi (Qi Ye), Zhang Chengling Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Missing Scene, Slight Canon Divergence, Spoilers for TYK and QY, Post-Siege of Ghost Valley, Canon-Typical Use of Husband and Wife (Faraway Wanderers), Nails of Seven Torments (Faraway Wanderers), Hurt/Comfort Summary: On Mount Changming, Wen Kexing cares for Zhou Zishu—and fears for him—as they prepare for the removal of the nails. A human experience and therefore one that Wen Kexing, so recently a ghost, finds himself laughably unprepared for. - Love in the spaces between.

Notes: This fic is me filling in some of the scenes we don't get at the end of the novel. This one is the most closely linked to the canon divergence, because it happens before the extras, so should ideally be read within the continuity of the series. But I respect a rebel, if you don't feel like doing that.

Of a tender history (2,503 words) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Zhang Chengling Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Top Wen Kexing/Bottom Zhou Zishu, Canon-Typical Use of Husband and Wife (Faraway Wanderers), Married Sex Summary: To live is a peculiar thing. Or: Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu, in moments.

Notes: This is my gift fic for MT, from the Immortal Wanderers exchange, and not related to the other stories. Post-canon WenZhou with non-linear storytelling, which is something I really enjoy writing. Nothing heavy in this one—it's mostly WenZhou being happy together.

From Halfway Along (65,334 words) Chapters: 21/21 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Gu Xiang (Faraway Wanderers), Zhang Chengling, Jing Beiyuan, Wu Xi (Qi Ye), Cao Weining Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Space Opera, Developing Relationship, Art Crime, Human Experimentation (mostly voluntary), corporate warfare, Canon-Typical Talk of Death and Dying, Canon-Typical Use of Husband and Wife (Faraway Wanderers), Extensive World Building, Families of Choice, Telepathy Summary: After dedicating years to the service of an empire, Zhou Zishu has walked away to spend what's left of his life wandering the galaxy. And if that freedom has come at a cost . . . doesn't everything? His plans did not include getting entangled with a dangerous man on a mission of his own. A man who not only looks at him, but sees.

Notes: I left this for the end of the list—the WenZhou space opera AU novel no one asked for but I was delighted to deliver. If I am known for anything in the TYK fandom, it's this fic. It is very much a Hadassah Story, with a lot of hallmarks of my style and sensibilities. I also structured it like a TV show, with cold opens in every chapter but (by design) one. I used to work in entertainment and From Halfway Along probably shows it more than any of my other fics.

[immacaria]

Writing Pattern Meme

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! Thank you for the tag, @ravensilversea, I love doing these things!

Here's the list:

"It started with a whisper in the dark." - And, in your arms, I know peace (and so does our family) (Top Gun)

"Through the years, Hob learned how to deal with whatever shit life threw at him. Ghosts, witches, vampires, fae. Whatever it was, he always dealt with it and always kept on living like nothing happened. " - I'll crawl home to him (again, again, again) (The Sandman)

"Hob is walking back home, his nephews and nieces surrounding him, when he sees Dream standing in front of his house, hands in his pockets and looking up to the house in what seemed hesitance. He is as beautiful as always, all sharp angles and regal posture. Even now, years later after their break-up, Hob still thinks of him as someone royal, too beautiful to be simply human." - I want to see the world and have you by my side (The Sandman)

"Laughter comes out of Hob's belly, loud and joyful, as Dream sits beside him with a smirk playing on his lips and mirth brightening his gaze. The adrenaline of the stage still drums in their veins and he feels like he is on top of the world, unstoppable and untouchable. Immortal ." - I want to fall in love every single day (The Sandman)

"The war was over." - After the Storm (The Sandman)

"It's early in the morning when Orpheus' cries pass through the room, waking both Hob and Morpheus at once. Morpheus moves slower than him, eyes opening just enough to look around and head not even lifting from the pillow. He is tired, Hob knows, not a bit used to having a small kid living in the same place as him. Hob isn't used anymore as well, but his body knows what to do on his own." - Do not leave me alone (The Sandman)

"There is a smile playing on Dream's face as she watches Hob play around with her students, kicking a ball around. She laughs along them when one almost falls after tripping. They had been on a date when the little group appeared, calling them out surprised, as if they were surprised their teacher existed out of school grounds." - Show me how to live again (The Sandman)

"Hob Gadling has seen many things in the hundred years he has been alive. War, famine, plague and horrors that would make most men kneel over and beg for death. He has lost so many loved ones that he wouldn't be surprised if some higher being came up to him and told him that his heart is nothing more than a little piece of what it used to be." - Hey, Papa (The Sandman)

"Hob is staring, she knows, but she has been doing it for the past seven hundred years and she is yet to be reprimanded. So, she watches as Dream waltzes around the room with her older brother, both of them mesmerising and captivating, but in different ways. Where Death is warm and gentle, a smile on his face that makes you want to be friends with him, Dream is cold and hard, her face closed in an expression that doesn't let you take your eyes off her." - May I Have This Dance? (May I Have Your Whole Life Too?) (The Sandman)

"Chrissy Cunningham was sitting at her porch, watching as the wind moved around her and her flowers and plants. She was a young witch in training, a baby witch like her mother liked to say so much. This was her new house, what would be her new home from then and on." - Stand Close to My Soul and I Will Stand Close to Yours (Strange Things)

I think my pattern is that I always start setting who is the protagonist and their current enviroment as well as some of their past. And I usually make longer paragraphs to start everything.

I'n tagging @tj-dragonblade @staroftheendless @quillingwords @chaosheadspace & @tharkuun

[bradshawsbaby]

SPEAK NOW (TV) WRITING TAG GAME! 💜

Rules: Claim a Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) song for your fic pairings!

Thank you for the tag, @whisperofsong 🥰 This was so fun!

Pairings and songs below the cut!

Bradley & Mrs. Bradshaw - Enchanted

This one makes me think of those early days when Bradley and Mrs. Bradshaw first met at The Hard Deck!

Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?"

'Cross the room your silhouette

Starts to make its way to me

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks

Like passing notes in secrecy

And it was enchanting to meet you

All I can say is, I was enchanted to meet you

Hangman & Phoenix - I Can See You

This song was literally written for Hannix during their FWB Era!!!

And we kept everything professional

But something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like

They keep watchful eyes on us

So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet

You won't believe half the things I see inside my head

Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet

Rhett & Honeybee - Long Live

Classic childhood friends to lovers!

You held your head like a hero

On a history book page

It was the end of a decade

But the start of an age

Long live the walls we crashed through

How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

I was screaming, "Long live all the magic we made"

And bring on all the pretenders

One day we will be remembered

Bobby & Peach - Timeless

Again, Taylor Swift wrote this song just for them!

And, somehow, I know that you and I would've found each other

In another life, you still would've turned my head even if we'd met

On a crowded street in 1944

And you were headed off to fight in the war

You still would've been mine

We would have been timeless

I would've read your love letters every single night

And prayed to God you'd be comin' home all right

And you would've been fine

We would have been timeless

Gallus & Sabina - Electric Touch

They need each other 🥲

I've got my money on things goin' badly

Got a history of stories ending sadly

Still hoping that the fire won't burn me

Just one time, just one time

All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life

Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life

And I want you now, wanna need you forever

In the heat of your electric touch

Rooster & Miss Honey (Coming Soon 😉) - When Emma Falls in Love

A little hint at the new upcoming series!

Emma met a boy with eyes like a man

Turns out her heart fits right in the palm of his hand

Now he'll be her shelter when it rains

Little does he know, his whole world's about to change

Tagging: Anyone who would like to participate! I know not everyone is necessarily a T. Swift fan and that a lot of people have been tagged already, so take this as your invitation if you haven’t done it yet and would like to!

[sugarylawliet]

no good for me (light yagami x reader)

i’m back lol

> warnings: smut, degradation, spit kink, inappropriate use of the death note, VERY toxic relationship, song fic kinda, lyrics are in bold and italics, based off of diet mountain dew by lana del ray

> tag list: @ygm1slt @cradiot28

❛ you’re no good for me, baby you’re no good for me ❜

Nothing on this earth scared you more than the man you were about to see; the pretty boy brunette flaunting good grades and a picturesque family life whose facade of ambitious, respectful young man was a mask almost no one could see through. Some people felt dread at the thought of spiders or snakes, felt fear in their stomach imagining the paranormal, shadow ghosts or criminal stalkers invading their comfort zones. None of these perfectly rational fears scared you the way Light Yagami scared you. There was no fear to be had at the thought of something undesirable creeping its way into your privacy or comfort zone, because Light had manipulated his way into your comfort and trust long ago. He was scarier than a murderer ready to kill at an urge’s call, his blood lust hid in shadows behind his golden boy facade, his words were tools and his touches were negotiations. You couldn’t trust a single thing that came from his mouth, you often questioned your own sanity. Light Yagami had a terrifying grip on you, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Your eyes scan over the text Light had sent you for the millionth time, the words almost ingrained in your head at this point.

Come to my house. We need to talk. 

You were sure he kept his words vague on purpose, yet another tactic to keep you at his disposal out of pure fear. You weren’t exactly sure if you loved Light anymore; what was your definition of love at this point? You loved him, yes, but was it out of obligation? Was it survival instinct?

It was true, in the beginning you had loved Light purely and truly. You believed his ambition was justice, to make the world a better and safer place for you. But as time went on, “Kira doesn’t kill innocents” began racking up more and more exceptions, and as the twisted justifications spilled from his mouth, so did the gaslighting. Over and over, his sweet words convinced you to keep coming back. His empty promises were a drug and you were addicted. 

His text, you were sure, was a reference to this fizzling out of your love for him. He could sense it, and surely he must have found out you were planning on leaving. You weren’t planning on revealing that he’s Kira- that would cause more commotion you were not interested in being a part of- no, you simply wanted to move states, get away and forget about Light Yagami, forget about Kira and Ryuzaki and Ryuk and everything that has overtaken your life. However, if he did find out your plans to skip town, you may just have to reveal that he’s Kira for safety measures.

❛ you’re no good for me, but baby i want you ❜

Hestiently, you opened the door you had been staring at blankly for what felt like hours. Light had been staying in an upscale hotel during the investigation, so maybe the other tenants could hear you if you screamed for help; the overdramatic thought brought you comfort. 

You walk in the room, closing the door behind you. You’re met with the sight of Light’s back as he sits in the rolling chair across the room. In the absence of any words, without even seeing his face, you know he’s mad. Every slight change of Light’s emotions could strangle a whole room by tension alone; his aura manipulated the feeling in the air, which served as a helpful alarm to know when he is upset. And man, is he upset.

You open your mouth to greet him, but he cuts you off, spinning around in his chair to face you, “Don’t talk.” You nod and close your mouth. Why do you even listen to what he says?

“I knew I couldn’t trust you. From the very beginning I knew you would run that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you’re planning on leaving. And then what? Telling the first news outlet you see that I’m Kira?”

“No Light,”

“I said don’t talk.” He stands up from his chair, “If you tell everyone, you’ll also have to tell on yourself. Imagine what everyone would think of you if they knew...You knew I was Kira and you still dated me, you defended me, you kept my secret, you even got on your knees for me. Are you gonna tell that to the media? That you let Kira fuck you?”

You purse your lips, restraining yourself from talking back. You knew it would only make things worse, but you couldn’t stand the way he talked down on you and expected you to take it. 

“Come here.” He motioned to his desk and you followed, sitting on his lap per his instruction. He placed the death note open on the desk, handing you the pen. With one hand gripping yours and the other on your hip, he began to guide your hand, the pen spilling out the first letter of your name on the pages.

❛ do you think we’ll be in love forever? ❜

“N-No, Light, you can’t do this, please.” You begged, your heart rate quickening as you realize what he was doing. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.

“Shhh, just write. That’s it, baby. This is what bad girls get, you see?” His death grip tightened on your hand as he spelled out your name, the last letters leering closer and closer before you could register the implications of what he was doing. This was it, this was really it.

Light lets his free hand wander up to your jawline, pulling your face closer to yours and enveloping you in a kiss as he wrote the last letter of your name. You shake your head with a whine, however he disregards your concerns and runs his hand on your upper thigh. 

“What’s the matter, Y/n? Don’t wanna spend your last moments with me?~” His nose kisses your neck, and the soft, sensual gestures almost make you forget your life was quite literally slipping away at every second that ticked by. 40 seconds. You had 40 seconds to do something.

You jump off of Light’s lap, reality rushing to your lungs as you felt your world closing in. Your pants become heavier, harsh air ripping through your throat as if they were the last breaths you would ever take because, well- they were.

Your head felt buzzing and dizzy as you fell to your knees, crawling towards Light who had spun around in his chair so his back was facing you; completely apathetic. After all you’ve been through together, after all you’ve done for him, nothing. Nothing at all. 

You crawl closer, grasping towards the notebook Light held in his hands, your weakness limiting your reach as anxiety stole your clearness of mind. He only  chuckles at your meek attempts to save your own life. Your head was racing as your nervousness blacked out everything in the room except for the little black notebook your boyfriend had a death grip on; ‘I’m running out of time, I’m going to die, I need the death note, I need to cross my name out, I need it I need it I need it I-’

“Goodbye, Y/N. You were fun to play with for a while.” Light kisses your nose with an arrogant smirk, peeling your hands off from his lap and wrists before checking his watch, signaling your last few seconds. 

You quit your pitiful attempts to grab the notebook and instead push yourself further and further away from Light until your back hit the wall, lacing your fingers tightly in your hair as you cried your last moments away. 

“5, 4, 3 2...” Light spoke.

“No no no no no, please god,” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for the pangs you would soon feel in your chest.

“1...”

And

Nothing.

You breathe. You let the air flood your lungs; it shouldn’t be possible. You dare to open your eyes, revealing the same scene. You, pathetically on the floor with tears down your face, Light before you in his chair with his head thrown back in a maniacal laugh. 

He tossed the death note down to you, like a dog being thrown a bone. You frantically grab it and flip to the newest page, your name scratched out with two thick lines. 

You were alive- no, he let you live.

❛ hit me my darling tonight, i don’t know why but i like it

“Well?” Light asks expectingly, standing up from his chair and kicking it to the side of the room. You look up at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as tears still brimmed your eyes from the just-curved anxiety attack.

“No ‘thank you’? I spared your life even after you betrayed me- lied to me. You’re so ungrateful.”

“I, I-” You found it difficult to shape your words with your hitching breath. You inhale deeply, eyes closed, calming down, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Light.”

Why were you even apologizing?

“I’m so sorry, please, just take me back. I’m sorry.” The words spilled from your mouth so quickly simply because they felt right. You needed to apologize, you did wrong, you need to be good. You wanted him back more than anything so you can be good.

❛ scary, my god, you’re divine ❜

“That’s right,” Light smiled, his voice softening unnaturally, “Now, how about you come over here and show me just how sorry you are.”

You hesitate for a second before crawling over to him. You sit obediently with your legs beneath your thighs on the floor in front of him.

“Mm, that’s my babygirl.” He pets your head affectionately, coherencing a smile from you. Despite everything he’s done, he always knew how to reel you back in. You needed the approval. You needed his approval.

You look up at him with puppydog eyes, to which he cocks his head to the side. “You know what I want.”

Nodding, you slowly unzipper his khaki pants and pull out his cock. You run your hand up and down, pumping it slowly. 

“Don’t be a fucking tease” Light scoffs, raking his fingers through your hair and forcing your mouth down onto him. That sweet, caring demeanor was gone in barley a second- of course it was. What were you expecting? It was a thinly veiled facade and you fell for it everytime without exception. 

Light groans, pushing your head further onto him as you try not to gag. You feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat as he thrusts into your mouth faster. “God, Y/N, you take my cock so well. Hah, if only the media could see you now. Poor little Y/N wants to run away from big bad Kira, meanwhile here she is on her knees for him, sucking him off like the dirty slut she is.”

He lets out a deep sigh before pulling out of your mouth. “Be useful for once and get on the bed.” He commands, bringing you to your feet with his strong grip on your hair and pushing you in the direction of the bed. You obey, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his next instruction.

Light slinks over to you, standing over your figure as his delicate fingers dance up your inner thigh. He takes off your skirt and slowly rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“Mmm, Light, more...” You buck your hips up to meet his touch, his movements were agonizingly slow and you needed more friction.

“More?” At once he removes his hand from between your legs and grabs your face, your jaw in between the tight hold of his thumb and forefingers. “You want more, huh? You don’t get to make demands of me. You really think i’m gonna give you what you want after that stunt you pulled? Hah, I’m not letting you off that easy.”

You let out a whine, bucking your hips again asking to be touched.

“Aww, poor baby...” Light cooed, “Open up.” You obeyed, opening your mouth before Light brought your face closer to his, spitting in your mouth. “Now swallow.”

You do, earning a smirk from Light. “Mm, good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”

He pulls your panties aside before dipping two slender fingers inside you; wasting no time, he pumps them in and out frantically.

“Oh god Light, fuck,”

“You’re so wet for me Y/N, you like this, don’t you? I knew you would, such a dirty whore. You like when I treat you like this? You like being treated for the slut you are? God, you probably got wet when I almost killed you. It makes me hard, having you under my thumb like this, under my control...”

“Fuck Light, it feels so good, I’m close...”

Quickly, he removes his fingers from you once again, earning a cry from you at the loss of heat. “Please Light, I need you so bad,” You beg.

“What did I say? You’re still not forgiven for that stunt you pulled. Don’t whine.” He wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you down onto your back.

He fully pulls his boxers down, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, please light, god, I need it so badly. I want you.”

“Hmm, yeah? You’re so desperate for my cock? I’m not convinced.”

“Please, Light, I’ll never be bad again, I’ll never mess up again. I need your cock so badly, I need you to use me. Do anything you want.”

“Mm, that’s more like it,” Light remarks before pushing into you, earning a loud moan. HIs thrusts were slow, no doubt teasing you.

“Oh, Light, please, faster...”

“More demands? God, you’re such a needy slut. Fine.” His grip on your throat tightens, pushing you further into the bed as he snaps his hips into you without mercy. His pace is relentless, quickly finding your g-spot.

“Fuck, Light. It... it feels- fuck,”

“Hah, stupid slut, what’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? Or is it me fucking you so hard you can’t even think straight, can’t form sentences?”

His words only egg on your approaching orgasam, “Hmmph, it- it feels so good. I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulls you up slightly by your neck before slamming you roughly back into the bed, thrusting into you with speed. “Cum, show me how sorry you are.”

You obey, releasing with a loud moan of his name. He finishes soon after, roughly letting go of your throat. “Clean yourself up. You look like a fucking mess.”

You slip your panties and skirt back on as Light sits apathetically at his desk, his focus buried in paperwork. You heart skinks to your stomach. 

Once you finish dressing, Light allows you to leave, informing you of the Kira case work he had to finish and opening the door for you. 

“And Y/N,” He catches your attention before you step into the hallway of the hotel, “Let this be a lesson. Don’t ever try to leave me again. You’re mine.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you tenderly- but you weren’t stupid. You knew the motivation behind it, and let you still kissed his soft lips back and let yourself melt into him. 

“Goodbye,” He remarks after pulling away, “Behave yourself.”. The door slams in your face. 

You can still feel his cum dripping from your heat daring to spill out of your panties. The hallway was empty, allowing reality to rush to you at once. Your senses only seem clear when you were alone- with Light, you didn’t see with your own eyes or hear with your own ears.

You let your back touch the door of Light’s hotel room, slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the carpeted floor. Your life was broken pieces and you cut yourself picking up the glass shards, relishing in the fact that your boyfriend liked the way the blood looked on your pricked fingers.

❛  hurt me and tell me you’re mine, i don’t know why but i like it. ❜

[familyvideostevie]

idk if you’ve written about this already but just imagine a hot summer day with steve and kids and it’s just super fun and sweet like dustin is starting an argument with steve and robin about what’s the best popsicle flavor lucas and max are controlling the music nancy is reading on a chair and playing marco polo and always losing because steve is horrible at it

ugh anon i hate summer but hanging out with steve in the summer has me writing about it in like, every fic and this is really inspired

its like youre just sitting in the grass and its dusk and you're reminding everyone to put on bug spray and the fireflies start to come out and the kids are trying to catch some to show each other and then release them and even the big kids are into it because how can you not be! playing ghost in the graveyard or fish out of water or other playground games, just totally taking over a local jungle gym and steve is literally so bad at every single game and you and nancy watch him play with everyone and robin keeps shouting polo in his ear and then darting away and you just laugh and laugh and then erica is like ok losers we're playing tag and everyone is like tag??? and she just is like tag! and tags steve and he looks like hes not gonna play it but then he totally does and just starts running and you and nancy get up to join and everyone is just losing their minds and laughing and its just so fun and wonderful and you're all out of breath and a little sweaty and dustin is like wow i could really use some ice cream right now because the popsicle convo made him hungry and steve is like sounds like a you problem dude, but then the ice cream truck pulls up to the park and everyone RUNS to it and nancy is like that was kind of creepy how that happened but who can question good fortune in hawkins? so everyone piles together their change (steve covers what's missing) and everyone gets their own, but before you know it you're all trading to try each other's flavors and steve sneaks over to you and hes like can i try yours? and you hold it out to him and hes like nah, not what i mean, and he kisses you soundly before pulling away and hes like, damn, that's sweet! and everyone groans but you're blushing and wow, you love him <3

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Stiller Than a Statue

Another day, another nsfw fic. I'm spoiling y'all 😭😭 Im not only blushing but I’m also set to leave you hot and bothered. (Pssspspsp if you want to get in the ✨mood✨ I can always link you to the songs I listened while I was writing. All you have to do is ask away.) Anyways, I hope you enjoy babes.<3

Summary: Jean is eager to get on his knees for you, no matter the time and place

Pairing: Jean/ Reader

Tags/ Warnings: Nsfw, 18+

The sound of your back hitting the cold tiles of the bathroom stall was admittedly much louder than the hitched breath that escaped you. You barely had time to take back your yelp though before a pair of hot lips launched onto the soft of your neck, placing a variety of soft pecks where ever they could find an open spot.

A mellow shushing murmur left your lover’s lips while a sole slender finger came to brush upon your lower lip ever so slowly; it sent agonizing shivers down your weakened spine, raising the hair on your nape painfully as if to salute him for his sweet assault on your neck.

“Be a good girl for me and stay still and quiet alright baby?”

Jean’s painfully blunt digits were set on your waist, pressing on different areas of your skin with the slightest of pressure, tapping softly in the most teasing manner into the dips of your back. It was hard for you to answer with anything other than a yelp especially when the longing churning of your stomach had just started to make its presence known.

Still, you contemplated on whether nodding was the right answer. Jean was hovering over your ear, leaving dangerously wet breaths just behind your lobe, while his fingertips were finally starting to tease the millimiters of the hem of your skirt. The mellow, occasional contact his fingertitps made with the peach fuzz on your stomach was bound to send waves of agony in your heart, and the vital organ took every little shock proudly, responding with heaping up its fast supply of blood to your whole body.

A single, smoking hot peck was placed onto your right collarbone, the sound it made barely filled your ears through the sound of the loud thud of your heartbeat. You bit your lips, eager to let out a fresh yelp as Jean places another kiss onthe middle of your chest as he pushed past the hem of yout shirt with this jaw.

His hand lost its focus on the hem of your skirt and was set to travel lower, pushing past the soft pleats of cloth and scrunching the fabric until the loose end of your cloth reached to the flat of his palm. Jean pulled away from your face in an instant, giving you enough time to take a good look of the devilish smirk that was plastered on his face.

Jean's hand took a hold of your thigh, hot skin meeting hot skin as he proceeded to drag his touch upwards, towards the dips of your hips. His fingers were on fire today, their teasing reaching an impicable standard as they ticked over the soft skin that protected your hipbone.

Jean allowed a low grunt to escape him, as he feels just underneath your panties, hooking his finger on the hem before tagging on the right side in vain pressure.

"Jean, please" you whined, eyes shut as if it was that only factor that could lower the sound of your voice.

Jean chuckled in reply and placed a soft kiss on your jawline. "I think I told you to be quiet. Do you want us to be found out?"

Jean's hazel orbs glimmered into you as if demanding an immediate answer. You shook your head as some saliva gathered fiercely in your throat, the slight sound of your coughing though was drowned by your surrender to Jean's piercing gaze.

"You're so smug." You chocked.

"Yeah, but you like it, don't you?"

Looking away was the way to go, you decided, or else your heart was going to burst. You felt Jean hook another finger to the other side of your underwear and this time his tagging became evident and exclusively demanding. Thus by submitting to his wordless plea you lifted your knee, wiggling your hips as he pulled the lacy piece of cloth down and off of you.

"You won't be needing them anymore."

You chocked on your moan as Jean left a peck on the top of your shoulder, missing the way he pocketed your white lady underwear like a trophy as the hair on his chin softly scratched your tender, red skin. And then, his knees bucked, his hands leaving your skirt to fall back down on your thighs, as his face came to bump into and between your clothed legs.

"Jean!"

The trim of your skirt was handed to you next, Jean's significantly bigger hand guiding the motion of clasping around the article of clothing.

Your eyes widened as you came into realisation of what he was setting his mind to. The dwelling of the thought in your brain aroused you and you let out an inaudible whine, your stiff back pushing further into the cold tile behind you.

"Mmmh," Jean purred against the skin of your thigh "that's it, let's see if you can keep your moans in."

"You're telling me to be quiet-" you started, but were quickly interrupted by a slow kiss on your thigh.

"But in reality-" you panted, "you're the one talking way too much."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished you had kept them to yourself. For starters, they didn't come as smug and teasing as you had wanted them to; your breath was hitched and crushed between the painful lumb in your throat and your larynx. All this, borderline pathetic, attempt to entice in Jean's teasing had only caused his face to be bathed by his own swelling pride.

"Well yeah but my talking won't be a problem anymore."

The dragging tag of his teeth on your tender skin brought goosebumps to your legs, the soft peach fuzz of your hips slightly rising against the tiny light that entered the bathroom.

"Now hold your skirt up for me."

Your gut growled at the words, melting furiously as it begged to make your knees go weak.

There was this everlasting fixation of yours over that phrase; whenever he chose to give this order to you, you simply lost it -and you were sure he was well aware- feeling the need to blindly comply to him and wait to be sent to cloud nine in which ever way he had decided to.

You watched as he closed his eyes, his nose brushing with your hot skin as it huffed teasingly puffs of cold air. His palms came to cup under your buttocks prompting you to let yourself a little loose in the assurance that he held you.

The feeling of safety warmed you up from within, merging with the excitement the location you were in provided you. You simply mewled, feeling yourself give in to Jean's hands, kneeling slightly towards his face. Quickly enough and only when a leg was thrown over his shoulder, your hand shot to his ashy blond locks, your fingers running through the different lengths of his mane.

The anticipation of his tongue didn't kill you unlike what you had previously believed and even though the muscle ghosted over you, it shiftly launched onto you, earning a half loud moan from the depths of your chest.

The flick of his tongue made your toes curl inside your shoes, your lifter leg had instantly transformed in a motionless log. The need to put all the focus to your core was carnal, and it ignited with each stroke of Jean's tongue.

His full top lip brushed over your bundle of nerves teasingly before he pulled back for an instant, just to allow the cold air to hit you. You hissed in response, tagging harshly onto his hair to push him back into you, but only his hand came to sprawl over your lower stomach, his thumb giving a few sensual flicks on the skin just above the are that you needed to feel such friction at.

By the time he dived back in your mind was hazy enough to ignore the mischievous smile he put on. You only felt his nose rub just on the hollow spot where your thigh met the inside of your hip, the teasing ghosting of his tongue hitting you once again.

As he felt the grip on his hair loosen though he took a determined delve, muffling the sound of his slurping with trapping the area he was focusing on with his lips.

His lavishing on you was slow, tormenting and too much all at once, it was overstimulating you to the point your eyes had grown teary, yet Jean was restlessly licking away, twirling and kissing sloppily on you.

He wasn't expecting you to help that loud at a certain flick of his tongue, but when it happen he slowly pulled back, tilting his head to your direction so that you could take a good look at his face.

"Please be quiet" he moaned, planting a hungry kiss over your hip bone.

His hazel eyes were bringing holes into your orbs as they were trapping your attention explicitly. His lips locked on your skin next, giving a harsh suck at the spot as you felt his teeth sinking into the sore flesh.

"Jean, if you- if you, please-"

"Huh? Please what?" He traveled down to your thigh, sulking over the creamy textured skin before worrying it too between his teeth.

"I'm not far!"

"Far from what?" He popped off the now burgundy spot, quickly launching onto another. "Use your words."

While your abdomen begged for attention, Jean returned to your heat, dragging his tongue agonisingly slow all over you.

"I'm listening, (y/n)."

"I want to come." You panted in a soft whine as silently as you could muster, not breaking eye contact with the ashy blond.

"And you want it so much don't you?"

You gulped down, sinking your button lip under your front teeth before nodding vigorously. He spared you an empathetic look as he pouted his lips

"Well too bad, I want to take my time with it."

"Please!" You whined with such a trembling voice.

"Okay then," he panted "your wish is my command."

With that his fingers dug into your buttocks once again, prompting you impossibly onto him. You felt yourself break a little, a small cry leaving you as you felt Jean buck into you further, enjoying your reaction far too much.

When your eyes shut, your abdomen coiled vigorously; your back arched dangerously into Jean's face, your knees completely giving, your weight ploppled onto Jean's palms. You were sure your hands gripped painfully into his hair but you couldn't control your antics. Cold sweat run through your whole body as you supressed what should have been a loud moan, your chest tightening beyond dangerously as your breath trapped itself in your lungs.

As you rode your orgasm out, Jean rubbed his nose against you, not afraid to get messy with the slickness he had caused upon you. The smug smile returned to his face for the thousandth time while he worked on helping you on your feet. Your skirt unravelled down your legs in an instant as he took your hands in his, covering you up in the process.

"Oh fuck Jean, what was thaaaat? Ahhh" You purred, not finding it on you to raise your voice further.

"Mmm, well, don't look at me like that. Weren't you beeeeegging for it a couple of minutes ago?"

You watched as he wiped himself with the back of his hand, his fingers rubbing between his thin goatee, leaving the occasional scratch here and there. The smile he sparred you only made your gut twitch in delight.

"Admit it!"

"What?" You asked, patting your hands over yourself to smooth your clothes while simultaneously looking around for your missing pair of panties.

"Looking for these?" Jean cocked an amused eyebrow at you, flexing your panties onto his pointer finger for you. He only flicked them in his palm as you leaned in and tried to take a grab of them, a deep chuckle escaping him once again. "Admit that you love it when we have sex outdoors!?"

"Isn't that a given fact? Now give me my panties!"

"Ah, ah." He shook his head in denial.

"Huh?"

"If you reeeally want them, you'll come and take them!" He mocket next, stuffing the white pair of knickers in his pocket once again.

"Jean!" You whined, though this time you smiled mischievously at him in the exact same way he did to you.

The ashy blond male took a step in your direction, hovering his tall form over you. His hand came to trap you from your right, pressing up against the cold tiles of the stall so much that his body only moved towards yours.

You let a happy sound leave you when his forehead clashes with yours, your eyes instantly shutting to accentuate the serene expression that was masking your face. Jean let out a half giggle at you, closing his eyes as well while he brought his nose to yours, booping his slender tip over yours as he scrunched up his nostrils.

"Your pus-"

"-Sy is the best? Oh Jeanbo you're so predictable." You laughed and bumped your nose to his further.

"A wonderland, I was about to say wonderland." He laughed back.

"You're also very, very cheesy."

"But you love it!"

His eyes squinted beautifully from the angle you were eyeing him; your heart tugged in your chest upon another glance, enjoying how happy he looked in your pleasurable presence. Dammit, you could never get enough of seeing him like this.

"As much as I love you"

You whispered and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Taglist: @melancholicmonologue @ackermans-freedom-inc @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @thethyri @levisbrat25

[violetdrkside]

i dive into a sea of memories, and collect the pieces of our love

Rating: Mature

Categories: Gen Fic, M/M

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen 呪術廻戦

Relationships: Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru Getou Suguru & Gojo Satoru

Tags: Angst, Angst and Feels, Hurt No Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Extra Angst, Heavy Angst, SatoSugu, Mentions of Killing, Mentions of Death, JJK Volume 0/Cursed Child Spoilers, Hidden Inventory (Gojo's Past) Spoilers, Shibuya Arc Spoilers, I've had SatoSugu brain rot for over a year (close to two years) and I make sure I make it everyone else's problem, Crossed post on Ao3

Summary: He cannot help, but only think of him. He thinks of every single moment and feeling he has ever shared with and of him. Life can be cruel, and he is not sure how he got here, but sometimes all you can do is dwell on the past as you try and accept your present. It is hard to lose your one and only and the person you ever had. Like slides from movie your brain will play back all those times you ever had of and with them and all you can do is watch.

A/N:

In celebration of Gojo's 1000th day (I know I'm bit late, but let's ignore that) I present some SatoSugu Angst. Also if you do not know what I mean by 1000th day then I would suggest not reading because it might spoil some things for you. Anyway I have severe SatoSugu brain rot. I love them dearly and am obsessed with their relationship and how they interact with one another and how Akutami writes them. The title of the fic is a translated lyric from King Gnu's song 逆夢 (Sakayume) which was featured in the JJK Volume 0 Movie. I looked up multiple sources for the translation of the lyrics and that seems to be the general translation for the lyric. If you have better translations for the song please let me know! But this song absolutely is about Getou and Gojo and makes me sob deep down. BEFORE READING: Volume 0/Cursed Child Spoilers Hidden Inventory (Gojo's Past) Spoilers Shibuya Arc Spoilers (Don't say I did not warn you) Use of King Gnu's lyrics for title. I don't own them. [See end for more notes]

______________________________________________________________

   "Back then, I thought/That you would always be by my side/As if it was a given."

          The amount of time that has passed is undetermined. The same image keeps playing, flickering like a reel of film projecting onto a screen. The sound of a voice imprinted in his mind on a loop saying one thing. He knows what he saw, what he heard, what his cursed energy told him, but deep down in his soul all the facts are deemed false. Whoever that was, it was not the person who he formed an unbreakable connection with. His whole life flashing like slides as he transcends somewhere out of this world. Unsure when the tears started to flow down his face and unsure if it was from laughing or crying. He combs through every scenario of how this could have happened. What curse made him be banished to this realm? The wiring linking back to right before becoming engulfed by this prison. Every single memory with him, about him, of him is what came rushing back to the blindfolded man before the darkness engulfed him.

           How long has it been now? How many times has he thought of these memories? He is starting to become unsure how long he has been in here. Has it been a second, a minute, an hour, a day, a month, a year? Longer than that? 1000 days? Maybe no time has passed at all. Even so…however long it has been, all he can think about is him . His voice. A ghost of his past that he thought he killed, and yet he remains. Well, only his physical embodiment remained, His soul…unfortunately that was lost long ago, perhaps even before he had to take the life of his one, his only.

          He thinks about the first time they met at Jujutsu Tech. How the boy with jet hair and bangs in his face and eyes that closely match had no idea who he even was. He thinks about how they did not even get along at first, but as the days passed, even with different moralities and ideas, one was not seen without the other. He chuckles as he thinks of their fights at Jujutsu Tech, and how the cursed manipulation user would still wield his technique even though he was prohibited from doing so. And all the times Yaga would yell at them for their conduct. How they would drive Shoko crazy from their antics as well.

          He thinks of how all their bickering would end in laughter and no matter their disputes they each knew they could trust and confide in one another even as the sun is setting. All the late nights spent in each other’s rooms to the point it became difficult to tell which room was whose. With clothes left on chairs, souvenirs from all the missions and trips. Different foods and snacks they would bring back to share with one another. He thinks how sometimes their late nights would bleed into early mornings; with droopy eyes and cracked voices as they would fall asleep in one of their beds, because having to travel back to the other’s bed was still too far.

          He thinks about how for the first time he could be free. To travel and see the country and all its variety. How, for the first time, he never had to feel alone and was not treated differently just because he was born with a destiny already planned out for him. Finally, instead of hearing “you” or thinking there was only “me” there was a “we” and an “us.” Neither one of the two had to do anything by themselves because they made a team.

          He wishes that those days of the beginning could go on forever. How he wishes he could hold onto them a little longer. He curses the moment those days became less and less and he wishes he could go back to the day when it was their last. Before everything started to crack and crumble then shatter altogether. Maybe if he knew their last day of laughter and happiness before “we” went back to “you” and “me” he could keep it like that, even if it was just a little longer.

          Unfortunately, he knows when things changed for the two of them. Maybe regardless of the events that had occurred, he could have been more present, he could have gone to change his mind, change his soul before he left completely. That day still haunts him, still lingers, and as much as he wants to deny it, to ignore it, that day was the day he lost all his youth, his hopes, his dreams, all his plans and what could be.

         He remembers how he died that day and how he came back. He remembers thinking how the only person he has ever had was dead too. How he would burn it all down knowing he could not exist in a world where the other was not. He thinks how he should have burnt it down regardless because honestly there was not much left of it anyway. At least not enough for anyone in the future to prosper from it. He thinks of his own face that day. Even though they both have lived, someone who they promised to protect was not. He remembers the brightness and glimmer in his eyes fading along with his smile. How his face became a ghost of what it was.

          That is when the separation started. That is when he was sent on missions alone constantly–when he was recognized as the strongest and no longer needed someone to rely on. That is when everyone started to rely on him . Maybe he could not have changed his destiny. Over all the missions he went on, he would think of him. He would think of how it would be so much better if he were there as well. Just because he did not need him by his side does not mean he did not want him by his side. But that is a lie too: he did need him. With him by his side he was someone, he meant something to people beyond his power, his cursed energy, his six eyes. He remembers all the feelings he felt as a child while in isolation in the confines of his family’s estate flooding back to him as a teenager when he began to spend mission after mission alone. No one to share crepes or other desserts with when he would buy them on their missions away as his best friend would follow and oblige his sweet tooth. Before he knew it all the days were blending together and he wondered if that is what it was like for him as well.

          He should have been there more for him. Maybe convince Yaga that they should do a mission together instead of separately, and have Shoko join them too so it could be like it was in the beginning . Maybe instead of crashing in his own room from the tiring days, he could have gone to his room, to spend the night there like they used to. Talk about their plans and dreams like they always did. He should have been there more for him . He should have been present, because if he himself was still hurting from that fateful day he could only imagine how the other man felt. All he wanted was to see from his eyes and maybe, just maybe, they could fix it together. They could work through all the problems; all the issues they were going through like they always did. Even if there was fighting, he knew laughter would follow.

           He can feel himself finding it hard to breathe. Was it this place he was in? Was it something else? Maybe this time he is actually…dying. How long has it been now? How long has he been lingering on every day he had with him? Every moment. Maybe…maybe…he could not change a single thing. Maybe no matter what he did it would have gone like this. Maybe if he was never in his life, none of this would have happened. Maybe he would have had a chance for a happy life. Besides, you cannot grieve for something you never had in the first place. Maybe he should have stayed in isolation…never gone to Jujutsu Tech. Learned everything from home. Not involving anyone else in his life. Was this the curse he was born with? He could feel the heaviness in his chest growing. Suddenly a thought occurred… 

            Is this what it feels like to swallow curse after curse? Is this how Suguru felt all this time?

        He starts to think of that excruciating day when they met each other in Omoide Yokochō, how he was instructed to execute him, his other half and could not. Instead, he stood there and let him walk away. He regrets letting him go, blending with the crowd. The words he said to him that day still haunt him and quite honestly, he still does not think he has the answer to the question he asked him all those years ago. The heartbreaking honest answer, he kept hidden deep behind his six eyes was he never wanted to become the strongest. He did not want the whole Jujutsu world to rely on him, to use him. He did not solely want to be the strongest, or at least he did not want to be the strongest on his own. If he was going to be the strongest he wanted to do it with him by his side.

            He wanted to go back to when the two of them felt like they were on top of the world. He wanted to go back to when they would say, “We are the strongest.” The only way he has tried to fill this hole is teaching. Teaching the young jujutsu sorcerers and guiding them so they can create a better world, and prevent being in a world like the one he grew up in. He knew at one point that is what the other man would do, before he changed, before he went his own way. He knew they were supposed to teach the new generation. Guide them together, but instead he does it himself, for both of them, for a lost dream they once shared.   

His mind keeps circulating on the same thoughts. Should he have held onto him harder, or maybe a little less? Maybe he should never have let them become as close as they were. Maybe they should have just stayed classmates, nothing more, nothing less. But…he became greedy, in order to feel human. To have someone’s warm breath against your ear as they whisper a secret. To share meals with. To walk alongside someone as shoulders brush against one another. To smile, to laugh, to cry, to fight with. All to feel alive. If he did not share these moments with him, would there have been anyone else who would come along in his life to share them with, to make him feel the way he did with him. To feel things he did not know a person could feel. If it was not for him, would he have been blessed–would he have been cursed–with all these memories, experiences, feelings if it were not for him.

            He thinks of all the years that passed and how the years apart became longer than the years together. He thinks about the possibility of him leaving too. Leaving Jujutsu Tech and going to chase after him, to be with him. Maybe he would not feel the burning of the hole in his heart grow if he were to be by his side again. The life he lived up until this point was originally because of him, before his soul switched, this is the life that he originally wanted.This is what they were supposed to do. To protect, not to harm. He thinks maybe they did curse each other…

            Sitting in the empty classrooms of his youth as the sun set and the sky would change colors, he would sit reminiscing about the things he would tell him. How he made him listen to him, even when he was acting arrogant. No one had ever done that before, but for him, he listened to his friend as he would look into his dark and shining eyes. Through his words he trusted him, and would give him everything.

            That day he came back to their school where they had created so many memories. He could feel him even before seeing him. Even if it had been what seemed like another lifetime, he still memorized everything about him. Then there he was. With the people he now called his family, preaching about his new beliefs to his students. How his voice, his words pierced him because in a different life they were to be side by side teaching these students together. On that day though, he hears that man speak of a different world, a different life his former self would be against. He now speaks of war, of cursing each other. How he remembers his stomach twisting from his words. When did he believe bloodshed would fix everything? Does he not remember that day they almost died, how someone did die, how multiple people died, and what it felt like to see someone with a life lose it in seconds. How horrendous that felt. Here he is now calling for a war, where more lives can, will, and were lost.

            Finally, that day came. The day he had been avoiding since the day he turned his back, never to return. He is not sure if it was cruel or fitting for it to end that way. He really did not want it to be this way. Maybe it would have been easier for him if Yuuta and Rika were the ones that ended his life, or maybe it would not have. Until the end he trusted him. For the other man he held no hard feelings for those of Jujutsu High. They both knew how this would be their last moment with each other. He remembers how he looked into the injured man’s eyes and though they were the same eyes he had always gazed into all those years ago, he knew they were different now. He remembers how he would do anything to see them glow again even just for a moment before he would have to do what he has been dreading to do for all these years. For a second he hoped they could be like they were before.

            It was not that long ago this happened. All the feelings are still there like an open wound. The way he says his name still makes his heart beat a little faster, because it always sounded different when he would say it. Then, when he would speak his name off his tongue he could not help for his stomach to flip, to clench just slightly because was this really going to be the last time he says his name to him. No matter how much he wanted to shove that evening away from his thoughts, it still plays like it was yesterday, every day. He recalls how he wishes he would curse him even if it was a little in the end, but they both know that they could never do that to each other. Though what they will not admit is they already did curse each other. The truth is already there to prove it had done its toll on the two sorcerers. 

He thinks of his last words he said to him and just before he took his last breath. He had laughed and for the man reliving his memories like a featured film, to see him laugh one more time, for his eyes to soften like they once were when they were younger filled him up to the point of absolutely destroying him. Because after this, his worst nightmare was about to come true. To be in a world where the other man would not exist. It did not matter if they were not physically present in each other’s lives these past years, they still both knew that the other one was still breathing, still living their own life. And now…and now…this is where everything ended.

            He thinks back to how he took his last breath before taking someone else’s. He did everything he could to keep his composure, but he knew that the only person he ever had, knew that he was anything but composed. In a flash it was over, but everything else remained. Before he could do anything else he stood there before the man that he thought would always be in his life and let the tears fall from his eyes. The ones he always held back after all these years because now there would never be a “we.” This was it, this is how it ended.

            He thinks about how he had to leave his body there in the alley, to ensure the safety and lives of the jujutsu sorcerers of the future. He thinks back of having to tell Shoko of the death of their friend. She had always kept herself more composed and indifferent of their friend’s leaving. In that moment though he sees how her face drops and eyes begin to water as she too grieves the loss of her friend. Seeing his nonchalant friend and coworker break that composure caused him to break more than he already was. He had convinced her to not dispose of his body and because she was one to not want to get in the middle of things she did not go against his words.

            For the first time Gojo cannot be greedy, he spends the last remaining time he has left with Geto before letting his “family” give him a proper burial. The tears flowing down his face and how he wishes he could have more time and thinks about all their firsts and all their lasts, just as he is reliving them again in the place where time does not exist. Oh how he wishes he could see how they saw each other in each other’s eyes…

    Ever since that day he goes through each day missing him living the fantasies of what they could have had, knowing they are all false realities. He tries to live a life that he would have wanted him to live before things shattered, because that was the only life he ever really wanted. Even though a lot of the days were difficult, and it felt like he would wake up and fall asleep with tears in his sky filled eyes, there were days that felt like the past did not exist only the present. He held onto those days, those moments, because he knew they were precious.

            The hardest days were the ones where it seemed like a new life was forming and though the past can never be erased a new life for the future can still bloom, but then a certain smell, song, sound, place would appear or he would come across something that threw him back to the past and then that is where his mind would live. He would feel the uncertainty clinging with doubt, if he could even be able to get out of the whirling winds of the past to be able to live in the present again. Those days are the hardest because of how warming it is to live in the happy, beautiful moments of the past, because at one point everything he ever wanted was there.

            Now he thinks back to what was moments ago, or has it been longer than that? How long has it been since he saw him? It was him, his body at least, but everything else was not. In the remnants of his soul, he knew that was not the person he shared the deepest connection within his life. How could he be fooled? Did he really miss him that much? Was that truly the thing he desired most, was to have him back? He knows there is so much more in this world and in this life, but without him in it, it is a bit bleak.

            His name keeps ringing inside his head along with his own from the person who he cared about most in this world. When did everything become so cursed?

WC: 3,412

24 October 2022

00:31

Happy 1000th Day of Gojo's Sealing! You did it baby!

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A/N: Hello Lovelies thank you for reading! Apologies for the hurt, but I cannot help it. Shout out to my friend Mint who helped me edit! I highly appreciate it, since I wrote this while recovering from surgery the last two weeks (don't worry I am okay)

Also shout out to all the incredible people from the discord I am apart of and dealing with my SatoSugu brain rot. Plus for always being supportive and encouraging! <3

Please leave comments and thoughts also any constructive criticism! (I don't mind, constructive being key.)  If I missed a tag let me know. And remember the only heart  you should smash is the like button <3 REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Ao3

Twitter

Patreon (I'm currently working on another series so I can post more soon)

[hatchetfieldtheories]

Updated (We're Back!) - Re-Watchers With A Thousand Eyes - a Starkid, Shipwrecked and Tin Can Bros Weekly Watch-along

We took a short break for Nightmare Time Season 2, but we're back, the schedule is updated, and I am psyched to watchalong with you all again!!!

---

So I thought it would be fun to do what I call a weekly “offline watchalong” of Starkid, Shipwrecked and Tin Can Bros content. An “offline watchalong” is where a show/series is picked as the “show of the week” and everyone who wants to join in watches it at any point in the week they wish to. Then throughout the week as people watch the show, we can make posts, mini-fics (or longer fics if you’re a writing whiz!) and fanart (again for you talented folks) about that week’s show.

Also thanks to the lovely @awigglycultist, @ur-url-is-weird and @faery-market for helping with this! Go follow them!

The shows have been split into themes, some with fun names, and some with not-so fun names because I ran out of creativity. The watch-along will start on 26th of July with The Trail to Oregon as I have been informed that that is the date the show takes place. The rest of the schedule is below the cut.

So how to take part?

Watch the week’s show! You don’t have to watch every single week’s show, if you feel like skipping a week because a show’s not for you, awesome! Curate your own enjoyment and join in again when we reach a show you’re excited for!

Make a post, fic, art etc - the idea is we are all in this watch-along together so seeing everyone’s thoughts on the content is what’s exciting. Not creative? Fabulous, neither am I - my contribution is likely to be “omg I love this bit in xxx when xxx...” - feel free to do the same.

Tag it! As well as tagging with the show/creators, include the tag #ReWatchers1000 so that if anyone doesn’t want to see the content, they can filter it.

Don’t have anything to post? No problem - reblog away! Press that like button! Learn “Listen to Your Heart Joey” in the privacy of your own bedroom just for yourself! Perfect your Oscar Wilde impression in your mirror!

Not seen one of the shows before? Amazing! This could be an opportunity to find something new you hadn’t realised you were missing!

Don’t have time to watch this week? I get you! We’re all busy, but feel free to engage with the content anyway - and hey, you can always watch the show when you’re free in a different week!

Most importantly - be kind. The shows, series, shorts and live readings we’ll be watching are lovingly made by some amazing people who have put in a great amount of time, energy and money into making us amazing content for free! Equally, these fan communities have some incredible fan-work which also takes a lot of love and effort. Be kind about the content you watch and the content that may appear.

Each week one of us will post what the next show will be. If any shows get released in this time period (here’s hoping) we may put a pause on this to give the new content the time and energy it deserves.

Schedule

This Counts as Historical Fiction Right?

Beginning with a story about a group about to start a long journey - seems apt!

26th July - The Trail to Oregon

2nd August - Firebringer

9th August - Poe Party

Pop Culture Parody

16th August - Holy Musical Batman

23rd August - Twisted

30th August - Movies, Musicals and Me

6th September - Solve It Squad

Harry Freakin’ Potter

Just in time for back to school - we're going back to Hogwarts

13th September - A Very Potter Musical

20th September - A Very Potter Sequel

Break for Nightmare Time Season 2

13th December - A Very Potter Senior Year

Need more HP? There's also A Very Potter Christmas audio show!

SHORTS

Watch at your own pace until we return on 3rd January!

American Whoopee

Kissing in the Rain

A Cryptmas Carol

A Tell Tale Vlog

Little VVomen

Ex-Vloggers

Spilled Milk

Weird Towns

The nights are dark and we're still feeling a bit spooky after those three ghosts visited us on Christmas eve - let's visit some weird towns!

3rd January - The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals

10th January - Black Friday

17th January - Nightmare Time 1, Episode 1

24th January - Nightmare Time 1, Episode 2

31st January - Nightmare Time 1, Episode 3

7th February - Wayward Guide

Ordinary Life - But Make it Weird

Let's kick off Valentines Day with... well...

14th February - Me and My Dick

21st February - Flop Stoppers

28th February - Choose Our Destiny

7th March - Little White Lie

14th March - Idle Worship

SPACE!

21st March - Starship

28th March - Ani

Not ready to leave Space? Why not listen to the Starship: Requiem?

Live Readings

Phew! Who's tired after all those Space Adventures? Let's sit back and relax with some classic movies! Wait... these seem different!

4th April - Beetlejuice

11th April - Addams Family

18th April - Scream

25th April - Hocus Pocus

Secrets and Intrigue

2nd May - Gilded Lily

9th May - Broadway Whodunit

16th May - Spies are Forever

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Fives - Anchor

Pairing: Fives x reader

Word Count: 1450 words

CW/ TW: Angst; mourning/loss, death, letter, anniversary, pain, brooding, it’s very heavy and sensitive so please proceed with caution and let me know if I didn’t TW something you deemed necessary; also a bit more hopeful/ light toward the end because my heart couldn’t handle that much sadness tonight

Tags: @chaoticvampirejedi @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @tacticalsparkles @imalovernotahater @canwestayinthisdream @wakeupjackthisisntfair @namesmox @badbatch-simp24 @lightning-wolffe @maddieskywalker @for-the-love-of-clones @m-e-w-117 @99squad

@ladykatakuri @firelordillyria @andiebell2023

Notes: I guess I missed him a lot tonight… Sorry for the pain

Some elements included in this fic are inspired from chats I had with @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s ; thank you little moon for being an inspiration to me 🌙

Iridescent - Linkin Park

.

0000.

Happy anniversary Fives.

Though I don’t see how it could be happy, when you’re everywhere but here. I never grew used to your absence, I never could; not when you’re haunting my every move, haunting this place and this world, finding your way back to me through faint memories and thousand of faces walking up to my office every day, asking me about my day and if I feel well.

I have to look at the ghost of you, every single time, and lie.

“I’m fine. What can I do for you?”

And I hear your voice again, and again. It tells me about the pain running through your back, the nightmares hitting harder than usual, and the fear eating you alive every time you get out of your hard, cold bed.

But it’s not you. It never is. I never could be.

I stopped buying your shampoo. I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the bottle we had in the shower. It’s still there, hidden somewhere in the bathroom, waiting to be emptied and thrown away carelessly, in such a mundane way one could so easily forget about it. But I can’t throw it away; it’s not mundane anymore.

I hid the jewels too, except for the bracelet. I hate to wear it, but I hate even more to put it away. I just feel…I feel naked when I don’t have it, and empty when I do. I can’t help but see you – feel you – through the shades of blue and black. What was once the purest blessing turned into the worst curse, and I can’t break it. I almost did – breaking the bracelet. I almost did.

I could if I really wanted to; but then I would lose you again, and I just…

I gave your aprons to the boys. I couldn’t stand to see them, neatly hanging in the kitchen. They were silly anyway, and I had no use for them. I’m a doctor after all, not a cook.

I published my thesis on the clones’ rights, and it is being presented to the Senate by Senator Amidala as we speak. I told her I wouldn’t be able to be there for her discourse, and she simply hugged me. I wish she hadn’t.

0527.

It’s been a year, yet it feels like yesterday. Everyone moved on; everyone but me, and I can’t help but be mad. I am mad that they forgot so easily about you, that they brushed you off as “another collateral damage”, another…clone. It’s the way they say it when they try to comfort me.

You were more than a clone. More than a soldier, and more than a man.

You were Fives.

You were my anchor, and I was your ocean.

I miss the way you said it. Coming home to me, tired, features drained and eyes darkened by the horrors of your latest campaign; but always soft and caring through the hoarseness of your voice as you whispered it against my skin. You always found a way to be there for me; for everyone, even when you were losing yourself in your own prison.

I am mad at you because of that. Because you couldn’t stand back for once, be egoistic and think of yourself instead of trying to play the hero in the dark. They killed you because you didn’t wait, not even when I asked you – begged you to. I am so angry because I called you an idiot, and all you could answer me was “I love you too, my ocean. My anchor.”

You didn’t even let me say it back.

1134.

I am mad at myself. You trusted me enough to tell me everything, and you knew I would believe you. And when you tried to do something about it, I called you an idiot. I wasn’t even there with you; I should have been there with you. I could have saved you.

Fives…

I remember the first time you came home. At the time, it was still “my place”, but the moment you stepped in it stopped being mine only. I always told you to come by if you needed; and the one time you did, we ended up laughing so hard the neighbour had to knock at the door. But it felt good. I guess that day I gave you a part of myself, and you carried it with you ever since. I suppose it died with you, too.

I know I shouldn’t be so broody; I can almost hear you, your chuckles filling the room, your hands pressing down my shoulders as you tell me “it’s a celebration, smile for me!”; and the smell of that shampoo tickling my nose as you come close to lay a kiss on my cheek…

But now the only thing I can feel are the tears, and that twisting ache in my chest, burning my skin and ripping my lungs apart. I can’t even breathe correctly anymore, I…

1745.

I’m sorry I had you waiting.

I fell asleep on the table, and woke up because of the cold. It’s always cold in here now. I borrowed one of your old sweatshirt - I hope you don’t mind. I kept them. I almost gave them to the boys, along with the aprons; but then I thought they could always come in handy.

They do. When days like today happens; days where I feel too lonely, where I miss you too much and it just feels too cold, I slip into one and hold it so close to me it almost feels like you’re here. My arms become yours, your faint perfume comes back to me fresh and soft, and I sometimes swear I can feel your warmth against my skin. I close my eyes when I do that, and it stops being a dream for a second.

For just a second, you’re back. You never truly left.

And when I open my eyes again; when I realise what it is all about, I still feel you. I see the bracelet, smell the black tissue, watch one of these B movie we used to laugh at and somehow I feel the best and worst I’ve felt in a long time.

I wish you were here. I wish I could tell you how much I missed you and how beautiful you are; if I could hold you tight, one last time... I didn’t even get to hug you one last time. I didn’t know it would be it; else I wouldn’t have let you go.

Echo is supposed to come around today. He told me he would. He didn’t forget about you either, you know. Neither did Rex, or Jesse, or Kix. Your vode didn’t forget about you. They always make sure to keep you alive, tell everyone about you and remember them of who you were.

Echo always says you’re his best friend. He never uses the past tense. I can’t blame him; I still say you’re the love of my life whenever people ask me. I guess we know deep down these things will never change. We don’t want it to change.

Wait, someone knocked.

2226.

When was the last time we laughed like that? For once, we turned the tears into something better; lighter. I’m sure you would be proud of us.

Of course, you would be proud of us.

It almost feels good to see you through Echo; to find glimpses of you in his smile, the faint spark in his eyes when he retells your best pranks, and the way he chuckles...I almost feel at home right now. With you. Not quite, but close enough.

Enough to make me smile, for the first time today.

Echo says hi. He’s watching me writing to you. He asked me to tell you that Rex lit a candle for you this morning, and the boys had a little something for you; but I can’t know what; apparently I “wouldn’t understand anyway”. So I hope – we hope – that you liked it.  We’re probably going to watch a bad movie and mock the poor acting until we fall asleep, and tomorrow we will…We’ll probably think of you again, but hopefully there won’t be as much tears as today.

I guess it’s a battle worth fighting. Not for the Republic or the Greater Good; not for the Senate or the Chancellor. Not for the Jedis or the Galaxy.

No, it’s a battle we fight for you, Fives. Let us be your anchor, for once, and rest easy now, because more than anything or anyone else out there… you deserve it.

2359.

Happy anniversary Fives.

I love you too, my Anchor.

 - Your Ocean.