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forever-rogue · 3 days

Note

you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…

i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!

AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; gun violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.

More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.

You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.

The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.

“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”

“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”

“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”

“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”

“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”

“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”

“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.

You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed.

He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.

“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”

“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice.

“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”

“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”

“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”

“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”

“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”

“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”

“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”

You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.

“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”

“Darlin’-”

“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”

Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father. Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.

“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”

“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”

“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”

“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”

“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”

“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday. She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”

“Hmm?”

“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.

“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”

“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”

“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”

You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.

But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy.

“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”

“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down.

“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”

“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.

“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”

“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”

“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”

“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”

“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d be enjoying this, “but I will.”

“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground.

It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming.

Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.

“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”

“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”

Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.

“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head.

“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”

“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”

“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”

He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately.

Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.

You took it without hesitation.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout #fallout fic #fallout prime #walton goggins

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 days

Note

ooo i have an idea

just something fluffy where reader loves hugging azriel because he always wraps his wings around her? maybe a little comfort fic after reader and az go on a rough mission together

Your wish is my command x

You Are My Shelter

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - No one can comfort you like Azriel can, and after a mission goes wrong, you need him wrapped around you more than ever before.

Warnings - blood, injury, angst, lots of fluff and comfort, happy-ish ending

It wasn't a rare occurrence for you to accompany Azriel on the odd mission. He would never admit it, but you, his mate, was definitely his favourite partner.

You were quick and nimble, observant, and you held yourself with a feline prowess that had him awestruck each time he saw you prowling through a woodland or the bridge of rooftops clad in your matte black second skin and hugged and kissed ever single curve of your body.

Azriel may have been the Spymaster of the Night Court, the King of Shadow, but you were death incarnate, his Queen.

Though, he and your shared family saw a side to you that no enemy would ever be able to catch a glimpse of. Deep down, beneath that harsh exterior, you were the softest thing any of them had ever encountered, and as Azriel lingered back, watching you stalk along the rooftops of Windhaven, did he know that as soon as you reached the cabin that you called home, would you beg him to hold you, to wrap you up in his arms and furl his wings around your form.

It was your favourite thing in the world, your greatest comfort. Despite knowing of his largest than most wingspan and the certain benefits of it, there was nothing you loved more than to have his wings curl around you and block out all of the negativity of the world. As long as you were with Azriel, nothing bad could ever happen to you.

The situation hadn't been so different that night you had met him and your entire life had changed.

Azriel had been your target once upon a time, the one you had been sent to trail, to learn more about, and the moment you laid eyes on him, the tug you had felt in your soul for your entire life had become unbearable. The feeling didn't stop you from doing what you needed to, sauntering after him down the dark alleys where he stalked, sticking to the shadows of his shadows and going by unnoticed.

It was easy to tell how surprised he was by you the moment he had found himself pinned beneath your body, unable to move as could only watch as his shadows danced to the rich tone of your voice.

The infamous Shadowsinger had heard of you, the assassin whose reputation superseded his own, born in Autumn and the personal spy of Beron himself. Azriel should have been disgusted by you, but as your eyes connected and he saw that gentle fire spark within them, he knew that you had no other choice, no other option but to do what you did best. Kill. Azriel could sympathise with the notion.

Beron's assassin was his mate, and there was no way that he was ever going to let you fall back into the clutches of Autumn, he knew what Beron would do if he knew of the bond between you.

Fond eyes followed you, you could feel Azriel peering upward past the treeline as you hopped from beam to beam, not wavering for a single moment, even when he appeared behind you on that thatched rooftop.

"Don't throw me off of my game, Az," your voice was low and tinted with warning as it sang to him, and he had to reign his shadows in from dancing toward your melodic tone. They had a job to do too.

There was no way that you were going to refuse to stay cooped up in your cabin in Velaris whilst Azriel hunted the males who had took it upon themselves to continue to barbaric act of wing clipping.

Rain pattered against the wooden beams and thatched roofs, the gentle sound of it covering the sound of your cat-like movements as you searched every home, every clearing for a sign of those males, excited to tear them apart for even thinking that they could harm a female and get away with it.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," he purred softly to you, his blue siphons dimly glowing in the night, the rain plastering his hair to the sides of his face.

Azriel ran his callused fingers through his locks and looked to you, "You're extra cold today, my love," he motioned to you, namely to the mask you had put on that evening, a mask that even he found intimidating, so gods help anyone else that crossed you that night.

Damn him.

Twin blades idly twirled in your gloved fingers, you had unsheathed them from your thigh holsters the moment you had landed on the thatched shelter, just in case any Illyrian male was stupid enough to attempt to meet you there. Countless moments had gone by when Azriel had watched you take down men three times your height and build, you were as quick as the speed of light, your agility was something that even he couldn't stand against, and he loved you for it.

He had finally met his match and found his equal in one fell swoop.

The tight coronet that Nesta had styled for you glistened in the moonlight, two thin slices fell over your face and they whipped against the breeze as you turned to face him, "I'm just feeling extra broody today is all."

Azriel cocked his head to the side and smirked, too entranced by you to notice his shadows slithering up his legs and coiling around his thighs, "You're due on your cycle soon."

Your eyes narrowed and you took a single step toward him, the beam creaking under your weight but you didn't falter, you didn't wobble, your balance was pristine, "That has nothing to do with it."

Silly moments like that were what made you happy, how, even in the midst of a mission, he could still find ways to tease you and make you smile. Azriel opened his arms to you, his wings unfurling from the tucked back place behind his back, inviting you in, "Do you need a cuddle?"

You could never say no to that.

The resolve within you fractured and fell, and you wasted no time in sheathing your blades, shrugging innocently, you told him, "It would be rude to deny you the comfort."

"It really would."

Azriel was too focused on you, on your bright eyes and curled lips to notice his shadows darting about in warning, and he didn't realise until it was too late.

A metallic tang tinted the air, and you inhaled sharply, stumbling backward a couple of steps before your foot slipped and you were sent tumbling off the beam. Azriel dove off after you, he didn't waste a second, he saw the pain twist in your features, but he wasn't quick enough, and you landed on the ground with a sickening thud, a soft cry flew from your lips.

Arms were around you instantly, his fingers were flittering around the arrow that was burrowed into your shoulder and the nausea hit you like a horse as all of the fire within you vanished from your body. Footsteps thundered from all around you, but you couldn't pinpoint the exact direction of their origin as your world span.

Muffled words enveloped the world where you lay, "Get out of here, Az. They're coming."

Azriel knew it, he could hear their shouting and stalking footsteps, and he cursed himself and his siphons for meddling with you whilst you were so high up, so vulnerable to their arrows. Azriel had stolen your focus.

Faebane held a putrid scent, it had always made his nose burn and crinkle, he clasped your face in his hands, noting your weary eyes that were getting heavier by the second. The arrow was protruding from your shoulder and he could smell your blood mixed with the poison, there was a lot of it, you were loosing too much too fast.

"I'm not leaving you here," he hoisted you up in his arms, cooing soft apologies as you groaned in his embrace with every turn his shadows barked at him to take, half of them scouting ahead whilst the other half wrapped themselves around your wound, applying pressure and doing their best to keep you comfortable, "Eyes on me, Angel."

The sound of his desperate plea gave you enough strength to keep your eyes open, you fought the darkness as hard as you could until you felt the hope that you'd gotten far away enough for Azriel to stretch his wings and soar into the skies.

It was usually a thing you loved, flying with Azriel, he made any excuse he could to take you flying, just so that he could hold you close to him. Not like he needed any reason at all to touch you, but he would always find one.

You had never felt so weak, or so stupid, or so helpless in that moment. Azriel held you close, pleading at you to keep you pretty eyes open, to stay awake, and you tried, you really did, but it was too hard.

Only when Azriel landed in Velaris did your consciousness jolt, purely due to the sound of his roaring voice shouting for Rhys who had appeared moments later with Madja in tow, commanding Azriel to place you onto the bare table thanks to Nesta's quick sweep that sent an array of plates and glasses crashing to the floor.

Sickly paleness clung to your skin, sweat coated your brow and you were shivering so violently that your teeth were rattling in your mouth, and your gaze shifted to Madja whilst Azriel told Rhys, Nesta, and a newly appeared Cassian what had happened with a strained voice.

"Is she going to be alright, Madja?" Rhys' voice echoed, he felt so far away, but from the stoic hand he had rested on your forehead, you knew he was much closer than you thought.

Madja was silent for a moment, her lips were tight as she pulled the arrow from your torn flesh, sympathy flashing in her eyes at the powerful cry that she had pulled from your lips, "She's lost a lot of blood," that much was clear from the red coating the tabletop, "But she'll be fine," Azriel was by your side, releasing a breath he didn't realise he was holding, pressing his lips to your hairline and stroking the matted hair away from your face.

Gauze become embedded into the wound, coated in a healing tonic that made you hiss and trash in Azriel's grip when it touched the gaping hole in your shoulder, and Madja worked as softly as she could as she wrapped thick white bandages around it. Madja left with strict instructions.

Rest. Fluids. Comfort.

Rhys hadn't even finished thanking her before he saw Azriel cradle you in his arms from the corner of his eye and whisk you to the room you two had shared before you had moved to your little cabin in the woods.

He had never been as gentle with anyone like he had been with you, you placed you onto the bed like a feather, pressing a cold cloth to your forehead to cool you down and rid your brow of sweat before he peeled his own clothes from his body and fell into the comfort beside you.

Weakly, you reached for him with trembling fingers, wincing as he pulled you into the position he knew that you needed. Head on his chest so that you could listen to his heartbeat which was racing in that moment, with your fingers tracing serene circles into the muscles of his pecs as his own hands wound around you, his wings drooping over your frame and binding you in their warmth and protection.

"I'm so sorry," he voice was wounded, strained with guilt, his fingers found the back of your neck and he worked slowly to unpin the coronet Nesta had styled for you, dropping the pins to the floor and unwinding the braids as you sighed softly at the tightness diminishing.

A hoarse hum rumbled at your lips, "It's okay, Az," you shivered again and he pulled you in tighter, being careful not to cause you any pain, and his wings curled tighter around your frame, waves of warmth seeped into you and your relaxed, "I'm here, I'm okay," your voice was a hush above a whisper, laced with exhaustion.

"I love you so much," his shadows grazed over your skin, and for a moment you believed that Azriel's hands were roaming over you, but they weren't, it was his shadows waving across every inch of you that they could, soothing you, cooing to you, "Go to sleep, Angel. I'll be here when you wake up, and we can spend all day like this tomorrow. How does that sound?"

The smile that graced your lips was peaceful, your lips parted to answer and Azriel waited, but when soft snores filled the room, all he could do was rake his fingers through your hair and swear to himself that he would never dare to put you in such danger ever again.

Author's Note

Just a little post-work drabble for you all x

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calicoheartz · 2 days

Note

Could you write something about Caitlin based off so high school by Taylor swift?

Soooo Highschool ; Caitlin Clark ﹒ᐢᗜᐢ

summary : just a little fic based on the song so highschool by Taylor swift !

wc ; 593

warnings : just romance and fluff

disclaimer : i don’t typically listen to Taylor swift , so i tried my best to interpret her lyrics

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : highschool Caitlin x reader core ?!?!? 👀 all jokes aside this was soooo fun to write tysm for requesting ! enjoy ◡̈

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the shiny basketball court filled the gymnasium as Caitlin dribbled the ball, with her eyes locked on the hoop. The crowd cheered, but her focus was solely on the game. She swiftly dribbled against the defenders with ease, her move was almost as smooth as silk.

You carefully observed from the bleachers, your heart pounding with both anxiety and anticipation. Your girlfriend was definitely a force to be reckoned with, and you couldn’t help but feel a wash of pride wash over you knowing she was yours.

As the final buzzer rung through your ears, signaling the end of the game, Cait’s team emerged victorious. The crowd began to cheer, as her teammates quickly surrounded her, congratulating her on a well played game.

You made your way done for the bleachers and onto the court, eager to congratulate your girlfriend. As you approached her, she turned to face you, with her gaze softening as she gave you a sweet but loving look.

“Hey, you played amazing out there,” you said, pulling her into a warm but gentle embrace.

“Thanks,” she replied, a small pink hue tinting her cheeks, returning the hug. “I couldn’t have done it without having you here by my side, supporting me.”

After this sweet exchange, you and Caitlin walked hand-in-hand to the locker room. As you waited for her to change, you couldn’t help but feel a huge sense of nostalgia wash over you. This was just like highschool, always sneaking into the locker room to congratulate her after an important win, then wandering off elsewhere to have a simple but passionate makeout session.

As Cait emerged from the locker room, you noticed a mischievous glint in her eye. “What are you up to?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shh” she said, swiftly putting a finger to your lips. Before you could protest you heard a simple “Follow me,” from the brunette. Grabbing your hand and interlocking your fingers with hers as she led you out of the gymnasium .

She soon led you to a secluded area behind the bleachers, before pulling you into a passionate kiss, her lips tasting like strawberry, and your lips moved together, harmonizing. “Ive been wanting to do that all game,” she said, a playful smile spread across her face.

You laughed, the feeling of her lips against yours making you nervous, and sending a shiver down your spine. “Youre sooo highschool” you chirped at her, teasing slightly.

Caitlin grinned down at you, “Ill take that as a compliment,” she said confidently, pulling you into yet another passionate kiss.

As you stood there, her arms wrapped around your waist, you couldnt help but feel grateful for the memories you were recreating from highschool, as she was more than just your girlfriend. She was your best friend, your confidante, your entire world. And you wouldnt want to have it any other way.

As the night drew to a close, you and Cait cuddled up against eachother on the bleachers, simply enjoying each other’s company through the deafening silence. “This feels like a scene out a cheesy movie,” you said, resting your head on the point guards shoulder.

Caitlin chuckled. “I guess we’re just like two highschoolers in love. Just like how it used to be,” she said, wrapping an arm around you.

You smiled softly, feeling an unwavering sense of contentment and happiness. As long as you had Caitlin by your side, you knew that your life would always be a reminder of all the adventures that awaited you.

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strawberrystepmom · 23 hours

Text

pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader

word count: 9.7k

contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague

cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y

notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3

When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs.

“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils.

Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.

“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”

“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”

The most unbelievable thing of all?

“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”

Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.

“Have you ever heard of omens?”

Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear.

“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.

You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.

You hate that you still have the dream.

You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face.

“Suguru?”

His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen.

Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.

You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.

He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found.

Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.

“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”

Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community.

He wouldn’t allow it.

“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.

“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”

The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.

“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?

Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.

“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”

He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5.

“How do you know about that?”

The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”

How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.

As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.

"Look at me."

He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.

"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"

A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."

The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.

"How?"

Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.

"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.

"There are more of you?"

"A couple dozen, yeah."

Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?

"How can you help me?"

The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You hate her.

Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.

“Geto-sama!”

She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups.

“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.

Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago.

They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.

“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”

Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.

Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.

“About ready?”

The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.

“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”

A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea.

“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”

Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.

“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”

The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.

“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.

“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most.

“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”

Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”

Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands.

You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.

“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap.

Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty.

You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up.

Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs.

“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.

“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”

Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless.

“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks.

“Yes sir.”

“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”

You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Geto-sama?”

The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.

The irony isn’t lost on you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”

Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.

“Why am I here?”

If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon.

“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”

Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh.

You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?

“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”

Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.

“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”

Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next.

Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.

“Please be honest with me.”

Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?

Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.

“Do I mean anything to you?”

Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.

“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”

His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”

You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.

The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.

“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”

He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.

“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak.

“So long, Suguru.”

He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.

“Can I touch you too?”

Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.

“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”

Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further.

“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.

"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."

His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.

Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better.

“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”

Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth.

“I knew it was you from the moment we met.”

He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.

Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.

“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”

Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority.

Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag.

“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.

“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live.

Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.

“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”

The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.

“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”

You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.

Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.

Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.

He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.

He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.

Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone?

Does it matter?

Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.

When’s the last time you felt like yourself?

Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him.

He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown.

“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.

“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”

The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.

Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?”

A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.

“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”

It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?

Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.

“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”

Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“May I train with you today?”

Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder.

“Why?”

The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.

“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”

Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you.

Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.

Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.

“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression.

“I already have. For everything.”

There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly.

Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.

“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?”

The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod.

“I love you.”

I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.

“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”

“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”

And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.

“Do you trust me?”

This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.

“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm.

“Do you love me?”

You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs.

“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”

You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit.

“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.

Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.

“Do you feel better?”

You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.

“Now, apologize like you mean it.”

Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.

“War is on the horizon.”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love.

You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.

Just the way you like it.

“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”

For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.

“Do I sense disagreement?”

Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.

You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.

“Is there something you’d like to say?”

Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.

You certainly have.

“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does.

“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”

The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.

“Look at me.”

Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.

“What do you think I should do with him?”

Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.

“Kill him, Suguru.”

Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back.

Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.

Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.

“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”

A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.

You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #kendall writes

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mellowsadistic · 20 hours

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The Flower Girl - Part 4

Grace sat on the floor with her legs spread out in front of her, playing with her Barbie dolls. Her once sleek, elegant blonde hair was tied up in a pair of scruffy pigtails. She wore a bib over her bare breasts; it was splattered with baby food, and a fair amount was still smeared around her mouth and chin. Her trim, tight tummy was gone – she didn’t get much exercise anymore, and the rich creamy bottles of formula she constantly drank ensured that her belly had a permanent layer of baby fat. Her thick disposable diaper bulged between her legs, clearly soaked to the brim, and there was a strong potty smell surrounding her that let anyone who came close know that she’d pooped her pants. It was how little Gracie spend most of her days.

After the worst day of her life, Grace had spent a couple of weeks back with her mother while Jessica and Rob went on their honeymoon. Two weeks of having her own mother treat her like she was an overgrown two-year-old, feeding her and bathing her and wiping her butt for her, and talking at length about how lucky they were that Jessica had put Grace ‘in her rightful place’.

But things were even worse once Jessica got back. Grace was her little girl now, a plaything to tease and taunt however she wanted, a witness to her victory. Jessica gave her all sorts of ridiculous tasks to do, and Gracie did every one of them with a dumb grin on her face – wiggling her butt and singing along to The Wheels on the Bus, playing tea-parties with her stuffed animals, seeing just how much of a mess she could make of herself during mealtimes in her highchair.

Grace looked up from her Barbies and took in the living room. There were lots of new pictures up on the shelves. Pictures of Jessica and Rob looking radiant together as they held hands and kissed on their wedding day. And of course, pictures of her. Pictures of her sucking her toes in the middle of a nappy change. Pictures of her making silly faces at the camera. And, in pride of place above the mantlepiece, a picture of her in her flower girl dress, squatting down in the middle of the aisle, making a messy diaper on what should have been her special day.

After she’d spent a few more weeks as a helpless passenger in her own body, squishing around in poopy pants, giggling along to baby shows, and getting her butt spanked for misbehaviour, Jessica had finally deigned to tell her how she’d stripped away her adulthood and autonomy and turned all her family and friends, including her beloved Rob, into her beaming accomplices – not that knowing did her much good. I’m a witch, you silly slut. All it took was a little spell to make your body act like a dumb toddler while keeping your mind trapped inside. I want you to know you’re being punished, after all. Then I cast another spell on all your wedding guests to make them think that I’m the one who ought to be marrying Rob, and that being my well-disciplined daughter is exactly what you deserve. Even your own mother thinks so! The only difficulty was this kind of magic requires eye contact, so it was easiest to wait until the ceremony when everyone closest to you was gathered in one place, and I could work my spell on them all at once. Besides, it was so much more fun to take Rob away from you right at the last moment!

Suddenly, Grace heard a noise at the front door, the turning of a key in the lock. “Dada!” she squealed, getting to her feet and toddling over to the man who should have been her husband, her bare breasts wobbling about ludicrously and her nappy crinkling loudly with every step.

“Hi princess!” said Rob, ruffling his ex-fiancée’s hair. Then he wrinkled his nose. “Peeyew! I think someone’s done a stinky!”

“I’m a stupid, stinky wittle giwl!” Gracie said proudly.

Rob chuckled and pulled her in for a cuddle. “Daddy loves you, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Even if you are just a stinky little girl who’s too stupid for potty training.”

He kissed her on the forehead and Grace felt a pleasant tingling run through her body. Rob still loved her. Grace supposed she should be grateful for that – even if it was as a Daddy instead of as a husband.

No! She couldn’t start thinking like that. She was going to break whatever hold Jessica had over her and Rob! She couldn’t spend the rest of her life like this!

“Hi Rob!” came Jessica’s voice. “Did you have a good day at work?” She swept down the stairs and rushed over to him, flashing a smirk at Grace before cupping a hand to her husband’s cheek and kissing him passionately.

Gracie giggled happily at the sight of her Mummy and Daddy’s affection for each other, but inside she was boiling with anger. That bitch needed to get her tongue out of Rob’s mouth right now, or else… or else…

Or else what? she asked herself bitterly. She’d blow a raspberry at her? Stomp her feet and throw a tantrum? Make an even bigger mess in her diaper for her to clean up?

Jessica pressed her body against Rob’s, and Grace saw Rob’s hand move down her back to squeeze her ass. Jessica moaned into his mouth.

“What about Gracie?” Rob asked, breaking off the kiss momentarily. “She needs changing.”

“She can wait,” Jessica said. “Some time in a messy nappy will help her learn her place.”

“You’re too harsh on her sometimes.”

“She has to learn she’s not a grown-up anymore,” Jessica said firmly. “She’s nothing but a silly, smelly baby now, no matter how big her tits are. She’s never going to be an adult again, so she might as well get used to poopy pants.”

Rob nodded and went back to kissing his wife.

Grace wanted to scream and cry, but instead she just pouted – as if her life being ruined forever was some mild annoyance to her, on par with having to take a nap or go and sit in time-out.

“Still,” said Jessica, breaking off the kiss again, “we don’t want her ruining the mood with her stinky Pampers.” She turned to grin maliciously at Grace, who was still standing there watching, sucking one of her fingers. “Bedtime for you, potty-pants.”

“But Mama!” Grace heard herself whining. “It’s only 6 o’ clock!”

Jessica flashed her a stern look, and Grace felt her diaper warming as she peed herself out of fear. Little Gracie didn’t want Mummy to turn her tushy red again.

Hating how pathetic Jessica had made her, she whimpered and turned around, waddling off dejectedly to her nursery. She climbed into her crib, clutching half a dozen stuffed animals to her, and lay her head down on her pillow, trying to ignore the disgusting mess in her nappy and fall asleep while the sounds of Jessica and Rob’s passionate sex echoed through the house.

Grace sobbed on the inside, the realisation finally dawning on her that Jessica had won. Her adult privileges had been revoked forever, all because of a jealous woman’s grudge, and she’d just have to get used to her new life as a stupid, big-titted baby. There was nothing else she could do. Grace felt her thumb slip between her lips as she drifted off to sleep in her loaded diaper, hoping that she’d get to dream about a life where she’d been the one to marry Rob, or at the very least, where she was allowed to go potty somewhere that wasn’t in her pants.

The End

***

If you want to read more evil stories about women being transformed into overgrown babies, I also post on SubscribeStar.

#mellowsadistic

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dsycop · 1 day

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WHAT'S HIDDEN FROM YOU?

PILE 1 : You may be gathering strength to let go of a toxic masculine, or you may be distancing yourself from this person right now. You are tired of this person's toxicity. This person may not have benefited your life. This person may have given you a headache. At the same time, this person may be "stingy". This person may have tried to control you. This person hasn't offered you what you want, and it doesn't look like they will. This person has also manipulated you. Your inner voice may be warning you about this person. I need to tell you that you need to listen to your inner voice. Something makes you feel uncomfortable. Some of you may think that this person will not let you go easily, and yes, this person may try to win you back through manipulation. This person is upset and wants to upset you too. This person may see relationships as a power play and wants to take power into their own hands. This person may come to you with an offer, but you need to use your logic. "Professional" echoed that word in my mind.

Significant Messages : Narcissist, Come back, 17:17, Hearts, Playboy, "love is not there", Sick, Bastard, Peanut butter, Luck.

PILE 2 : A fuck boy you know from the past wants to come to you. This person may have gotten you into a third party or tried to put you in a third party relationship. This person once gave you breadcrumbs. This person is not mentally healthy at all right now. He's afraid you've forgotten about him. He would love to make you an offer. He may want a relationship. This person doesn't want you to forget him. This person may be manifesting you. He doesn't want to come to you, he wants you to go to him. At the same time, this person is stalking you, and seeing you so happy, peaceful, and balanced may have bothered him because he is restless. This person may be obsessed with you. He sees you as his soulmate and has convinced himself of this very much. This person is suppressing his feelings for you, and this makes him very uncomfortable. At the same time, he would love to come to you, but he looks at the situation very desperately. In addition, this person may be experiencing karma. This person's mind is like a bomb ready to explode. Although this person sees you as a soulmate and wants to take a step, this person is someone who rejects change. 👁👄👁

Significant Messages : Breadcrumbs, Not today, Lovely, Please, Prisoner, Pride, Lust, Pennywise, Lack of confidence, Master, Peacock, Bralet.

PILE 3 : What is hidden from you is your potential. You are really a dream girl/boy person, but you don't realize it. You may be feeling lost after a past crush. You may have been stabbed in the back by a woman and you still feel that pain. You have lost all your balance. I see tears. You may have become depressed after this situation. I heard "I can't get over it". You still have hope, you are still waiting, for something that happened in the past. You may still be stalking people from your past. You may be planning to contact someone from your past, but it may not turn out the way you want. "Wrong timing". It may not be what you expect. Now you need to move forward. You need to leave your past behind. You hold a very strong grudge and hatred for someone from your past. YOU REALLY NEED TO MOVE FORWARD!!!! 🧡

Significant Messages : Last, "that's not the case", Deadly, "take no time", Baking Soda, "Why am I?" Broke, "Past is past".

#pick a card #pac #tarot #divination #pick a pile #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotblr

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hd-junglebook · 2 days

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My Sunshine

Prologue (short and sweet just how I like em)

Warnings - brief mentions of sex, mention of plan b pills, toxic relationship, pregnancy

a:n I feel like the chapter I posted for jack was too rushed, so I rewrote the entire thing. I hope you enjoy this one even more because I enjoyed writing the parts for it.

Masterlist Link

Summary: After Jason suddenly declares he no longer wants to have a baby with her, despite their previous plans, Y/N finally leaves the hell that is her home and seeks the one thing that could give her answers. After agonizing over the decision, Y/N takes the tests spiraling over the results.

Word Count ~ 2054

...

Y/N collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving and her skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. Adrenaline still coursed through her veins as she reached out for Jason, desperately seeking the comfort of his warm embrace.

But to her dismay, he merely rolled over, his back facing her. The deafening silence that followed was oppressive, broken only by their labored breathing.

"Hey," she broached softly, a tremor in her voice. "What's wrong?" Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She propped herself up on her elbow, studying Jason's tense profile in the dim light of the bedroom as she gently rubbed his back, trying to offer whatever comfort she could.

He grumbled something unintelligible, his jaw clenched tight, his body rigid and unyielding.

"What did you say?" Y/N pressed, a sense of unease and dread creeping into her chest, tightening around her heart.

"I said," Jason repeated, his voice cold and detached, "I don't want to have a baby with you anymore."

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of disbelief and heartbreak washed over her. In the muted glow of the bedroom, Y/N's world shattered like fragile glass. Her body, still throbbing and tingling from their intimate encounter, now grew cold and numb.

Jason sat up, his expression hard and unyielding as he turned to face Y/N. "You heard me. I don't want a baby. We try and try to conceive this...this thing ," he said, his voice dripping with disdain, "but it hasn't worked. I'm tired of trying. I've had my fill of you for the last five months."

Y/N felt as if she had been slapped, the words striking her like a physical blow. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, her mind reeling from the devastating revelation.

"But we talked about this," she argued, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and hurt. "We agreed that we were ready, that we wanted to start a family. You said you were gonna marry me! How can you say you've had your fill of the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?"

Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes dismissively. "Well, I changed my mind. And it's not like you have much of a say in the matter, anyway," he sneered.

Y/N's eyes narrowed, anger flaring hot and fierce in her veins. "Excuse me?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. How dare he treat her as if she had no say in the matter - this was their future, their dream, their child they were discussing.

"You heard me," Jason repeated, his tone mocking and callous. "It's my decision, too. And I've decided that I don't want a kid tying me down." He turned away, his broad shoulders rigid with finality, leaving Y/N feeling utterly betrayed and alone.

Without another word, Y/N rose from the bed, her movements stiff and mechanical as she gathered her discarded clothes. She stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her with a resounding bang that reverberated through the tense silence.

Leaning heavily against the sink, she braced her trembling hands on the cool porcelain as hot, angry tears streamed down her flushed cheeks.

With a shaking hand, she turned on the shower, the scalding spray pounding against her skin as she stepped under it, scrubbing furiously.

She tried in vain to wash away the lingering feeling of Jason's touch, the essence of their intimate encounter seeping onto her thighs. The water cascaded down her body, but it offered no solace, no relief from the anguish consuming her.

Desperate, Y/N rummaged through the cabinets, her movements frantic as she pushed aside bottles of shampoo and tubes of toothpaste, searching for the small foil packet that held her last hope. But as she tore through the cluttered shelves, her heart sank, a fresh wave of panic crashing over her.

The pill was gone.

"No, no, no," she choked out, her voice breaking with anguish. "Fuck!" she cried, slamming her fist against the unyielding tile wall.

The impact sent a jolt of pain through her hand, but she barely registered it, consumed by the overwhelming fear of being trapped - tethered to a man who no longer loved her, who didn't want the life they had so carefully planned together.

The bathroom descended into chaos as Y/N's desperation reached a fever pitch. She swept her arm across the counter, sending bottles and jars crashing to the floor, the sound of shattering glass mingling with her anguished sobs.

Tearing open drawers, she flung their contents aside, heedless of the mess she was creating. In her frantic search, she upended the trash can, the contents spilling out across the tile.

Y/N's world was crashing down around her, and she felt powerless to stop it. She sank to the floor, curling in on herself as the full weight of her devastation overwhelmed her. Clutching her knees to her chest, she wept bitterly, her heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces.

…

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow on the nearly empty shelves of the CVS. Y/N stood in the middle of the aisle, her eyes darting back and forth between the rows of cardboard boxes, her heart pounding in her chest.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerators and the static of the TV mounted on the wall.

Beside her, Heather shifted from foot to foot, her impatience growing with each passing second. The tapping of her foot against the linoleum floor echoed through the store, grating on Y/N's already frayed nerves.

"Could you stop tapping and put that pea brain of yours to use?" Y/N snapped, her voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. The harsh words escaped her lips before she could even register them, her nerves completely frayed.

Heather shot her a sideways glance, her lips pressed into a thin line. She reached out and grabbed a box from the shelf, shoving it into Y/N's hands.

"This looks fine, Y/N," she said, her tone clipped and laced with a hint of irritation. "You've read every box back to front. I think you should just choose one."

Y/N stared down at the box in her hands, her mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. She knew Heather was right, but choosing a box made the situation feel too real – this box held the answer to the rest of her life. The weight of the decision felt crushing, and she couldn't help but feel utterly alone in this moment, despite Heather's presence.

Swallowing thickly, Y/N ran her fingers over the cardboard, tracing the words printed on the packaging. Every fiber of her being wanted to tear the box open, to find the answers that would dictate her future. But the fear of what those answers might be paralyzed her, leaving her frozen in place, the box trembling in her shaking hands.

"Screw it," Y/N muttered under her breath, her resolve hardening. She grabbed four more boxes from the shelf, the cardboard containers feeling heavy in her hands.

Without another moment's hesitation, she turned to walk away, but something made her pause. With a sigh of frustration, she spun back around and snatched one more box, just for good measure.

Heather let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head in disbelief at Y/N's sudden burst of decisiveness. "Alright, that's more like it," she murmured, offering her friend an encouraging smile, despite the gravity of the situation.

She wandered over to the fridges and grabbed a 2-liter bottle of soda before meeting Y/N at the checkout counter.

They plopped their items down in front of the cashier, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a bored expression on his face. He glanced up at them, his eyes widening as he took in the array of pregnancy tests and the massive bottle of soda.

The cashier's voice cut through the tense silence as he spoke up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Having trouble deciding, ladies?"

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, suddenly self-conscious under the man's curious gaze. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat, leaving her uncharacteristically flustered.

Thankfully, Heather jumped in, offering the cashier a polite smile. "Oh, you know how it is," she said, her tone light and diplomatic. "Gotta make sure we get the right ones, you know?"

The cashier nodded, his expression understanding as he scanned their items and bagged them up. "That'll be $32.50," he said, adding the final box to the pile.

Y/N silently handed over the cash, her heart pounding in her chest. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The cashier gave her a sympathetic nod, his eyes twinkling with a hint of empathy that made Y/N's stomach twist.

With the transaction complete, they turned and walked out of the CVS, the automatic doors sliding shut behind them with a soft whoosh. The night air was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stuffy interior of the store.

Y/N took a deep breath, savoring the sensation of the fresh air filling her lungs as she gripped the bag containing the pregnancy tests, the weight of it heavy in her hand.

She looked over at Heather, who gave her a reassuring smile. "Ready?" her friend asked, her voice soft and laced with concern.

Y/N steeled herself, squaring her shoulders as she met Heather's gaze. "not at all," she replied. With a deep breath, she began walking towards her car, Heather by her side.

…

Y/N sat on the cold tile floor of her bathroom, her knees drawn up to her chest and her heart racing. She had lined up all eleven pregnancy tests on the edge of the bathtub, each one turned face down, waiting for the results that would change her life forever.

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly, each second feeling like an eternity. Y/N's mind raced with a million different scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. What would she do if the tests were positive? How would she tell Jason? Would he even care?

Suddenly, Heather's voice rang out from the other side of the door, startling Y/N from her thoughts.

"Time!" she shouted, her voice muffled by the thick wood.

Y/N inhaled deeply, trying to calm her frayed nerves. She slowly lifted her head from her lap, her muscles aching from sitting in the same position for so long. Using the sink for support, she pulled herself to her feet, her knees suddenly weak and shaky.

With trembling hands, Y/N reached out and flipped over the first test, her heart pounding in her chest. A bold, unmistakable pink plus sign stared back at her, and she felt her heart skip a beat, her breath catching in her throat.

Hands shaking, she moved down the line, flipping over each test one by one. Plus sign after plus sign greeted her, until all eleven tests lay face up on the bathtub, their results crystal clear.

Y/N hiccupped, her hand flying to her mouth as a tear slipped down her cheek. She was pregnant. There was no denying it now - the evidence was right there in front of her, etched in pink and white plastic.

The reality of the situation crashed over her like a tidal wave, and she felt her legs give out from under her as she sank back down to the floor.

Sobs wracked her body, her anguish palpable as she grappled with the devastating truth. She was going to be a mother, and the father of her child was a man who no longer wanted her.

Heather's voice called out again, this time softer and more concerned. "Y/N? Are you okay in there?"

Y/N tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat, choked by the lump of emotion that had settled there. She heard the doorknob rattle, and then Heather was there, kneeling beside her on the floor and wrapping her in a tight, comforting embrace.

"Oh, honey," Heather murmured, stroking Y/N's hair as she cried. "It's going to be okay. We'll figure this out together, I promise." Heather's voice was soothing, a balm to Y/N's shattered nerves, and she clung to her friend arms.

...

Tag List <3

@fearfam69691, @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3, @dasiysthings, @shawnshoney

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ghostsandmermaids · 1 day

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Fandom Manifesto: Hello From The Hallowoods

(Originally written for the Fandomanifesto community on Pillowfort.)

Here's a (mostly spoiler-free) fandom manifesto for my favorite podcast, Hello From The Hallowoods. (Please try to keep the comments on this post spoiler-free as well.)

What is a fandom manifesto?

Inspired by ship manifestos, a fandom manifesto is an essay meant to introduce people to a fandom and promote it by explaining its appeal. It's a really fun tradition that I would love to keep going.

What is Hello From The Hallowoods?

Darker than your dreams, and farther North than you remember, there is a forest where life and death meet…

Hello From The Hallowoods is a queer horror podcast written and produced by William A. Wellman (they/them). This is the official description (taken from Spotify):

Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, a cosmic narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

It's set in a forest in northern Canada (the Hallowoods) in a post-apocalyptic world plagued by the black rains. The story follows the inhabitants of the Hallowoods—only some of whom are alive and human—as their lives become increasingly interconnected.

The podcast is narrated by Nikignik (he/they), also known as One Hundred Eyes in the Dark, an eldritch god who speaks directly to the listener via their nightmares. He begins to tell these stories because he's grieving his partner, another god called Marolmar (he/him), and humans were the last thing Marolmar created. Over time, Nikignik changes from a more passive narrator to an active character in the story.

There are a lot of characters, including but not limited to:

a nonbinary Frankenstein's creature piercing together their identity

a trans ghost dealing with his occultist father

an invisible man finding love at first sight

a genderfluid storm witch trying to prove themself

a retired rockstar and her punk butch lesbian daughter

a floral-suit-wearing demon on a celestial audit of earth

a starwolf on a mission to kill said demon

a killer robot skull and his pet dead seagull

an unkindness of ravens (yes, they are one character)

… and many, many more.

How scary is it?

It's a horror podcast, so there are some scary moments, but for me, the story feels very comforting and bittersweet as it explores horror tropes in a really unique way. According to the website:

It's been described as a show that helps you sleep easier, rather than one that keeps you up at night.

The story also explores themes like religious trauma, isolation, death, grief, and queerphobia, so please check the content warnings at the end of each episode description or at the start of each episode transcript. Transcripts are available on the website.

Why should I listen to it?

If the description above didn't convince you, here are some more reasons why you should listen to Hello From The Hallowoods.

There is so much content! I often complain about books being almost always standalones or duologies lately and TV seasons only being 8-10 episodes. If I really like something, I want to spend as much time with it as possible!

With HFTH, I don't have that problem because there is so much to listen to! There are currently (almost) 150 episodes available (plus a few live shows and bonus episodes), and new episodes come out every Wednesday. There are also weekly 100-word bonus stories on Patreon, and a tie-in novel called One Hundred Eyes In The Dark is currently in the works, so if you're looking for a story you can get really invested in (or if you're angry that all your favorite shows have been canceled), HFTH is perfect for you!

There are so many queer characters, disabled characters, and characters of color! If you're looking for a really diverse show, you will love HFTH. (I cried when I heard a character describe herself as aromantic.) But even aside from the diversity, the characters are just amazing. I mean, "What if Frankenstein's creature got love and support and was an absolute cinnamon roll?" is the perfect character concept. The villains are also really compelling and well-written.

It's a great introduction to podcasts, especially for book lovers, because it often feels like a very immersive audiobook! The voice acting and music are incredible, and even though there are a lot of characters, you can tell them apart very easily by their voices. If you like fantasy and horror books, this could be your introduction to the world of audio dramas.

That being said, if you have listened to other horror podcasts before, you will still love this one! It sometimes reminds me of Welcome To Night Vale, but the setting and characters are very unique, and the writing is so, so beautiful.

It's also a great introduction to horror! I used to avoid horror media because I get scared very easily, but horror podcasts (and especially Hello From The Hallowoods) made me discover how much I actually enjoy horror. HFTH explores horror tropes in such a kind, unique, and hopeful way, and as sappy as that sounds, listening to it makes the horrors of everyday life a little easier to deal with.

If you like Malevolent (another really great horror podcast), Harlan Guthrie has a guest role in HFTH! You might also recognize Mx. Wellman's voice from other podcasts like WOE.BEGONE, The Silt Verses or Old Gods of Appalachia.

The fandom is amazing! Everyone is so kind and talented, and we always have a lot of fun theorizing about what will happen next. There's even a fan-run Discord server!

We also have a fan wiki, and in addition to the official information, we also have a "fun gender" for each character. Here are some of my favorites:

Tumblr Sexyman (Official)

Eye-Affiliated Podcast Host

Deer that will fuck you up

Whatever the hell was going on with the guy from Shape Of Water

Nightmare Personality

Hot Topic Goth

Dilf Automobile

How do I listen to it?

You can listen to Hello From The Hallowoods on the podcatcher of your choice. Here are some suggestions from the Hallowoods website:

Spotify

Apple Podcasts

Podbean

YouTube

Google Podcasts

It's not an anthology, so please listen to it from the beginning to see how the different characters and plot threads come together.

The show is entirely ad-free and sponsor-free, so if you like it and want to financially support it, please consider joining the show’s Patreon.

And that's it! There are many things I didn't include for spoiler reasons, but this should give you a basic idea of what HFTH is about and why I love it so much.

I hope I convinced you to listen to Hello From The Hallowoods, and maybe you will love it as much as I do!

#hello from the hallowoods #hfth #fandom manifesto #podcast recs #podcast recommendations #horror podcasts #long post

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utilitycaster · 2 days

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Bonus:

Campaign 2 episode 92/Campaign 3 episode 92 parallels (with some assistance from 3x89)

Transcription of the text in the above images (screenshots from the Critical Role Transcript Search) below the cut:

The following is excerpts from Campaign 2, Episode 92, and Campaign 3 Episode 92 (except one from 89, noted below), interspersed. Travis is playing Fjord, Marisha is playing Beau, Laura is playing Imogen, Liam is playing Orym, and Matt plays Thoreau Lionett in the Campaign 2 excerpt and Liliana Temult in the Campaign 3 excerpt:

First image:

TRAVIS: Your histamine reactions are going again.

MARISHA: Yeah. I've been away from Zadash for a little bit, so the pollen, it's kicking a little, you know?

TRAVIS: I take it you don't fully, fully hate your dad. It's got to be hard to hear this.

Second image:

LAURA: I'm going to heard toward Orym who's at a distance and approach slowly.

LIAM: Hey.

LAURA: Hi. I'm going to put my hand on your shoulder.

LIAM: Sorry, I know how hard all that is for you.

Third image:

MARISHA: Everyone wants to make their dad proud, you know? Just hoping he could, he could show some of that.

TRAVIS: You don't know that he can't. It's been years. You've grown, you've changed. I'm sure you were even more of an unbearable shit before. I'm not saying he deserves a second chance, but he is your father, and you do have a mother, and a brother that you've never met.

MARISHA: (sniffs) I guess it's hard when... the word inevitable has been brought up several times in the past 24 hours amongst us. I feel like I've found my family with The Mighty Nein. I don't like looking at my past, because it doesn't have The Mighty Nein in it, and I think I put off the inevitable, because I'm going to-- I'm afraid it's going to be like my past.

Fourth image:

LAURA: Don't apologize. I can't begin to understand how hard it is for you.

LIAM: You know, every one of us makes our decisions with the lenses or prisms we see life through.

LAURA: Mm-hmm.

LIAM: I can't take mine down. (sobs softly) It's not even about revenge for me. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do.

LAURA: I didn't know them, but I can't imagine they wouldn't look at you and not be proud.

LIAM: (sighs sadly)

LAURA: I think you've gone farther than anyone could ever expect you to, and you're still going.

Fifth image:

TRAVIS: I don't think one contaminates the other. You've got good, solid footing here. I mean, shit, if we want to run, we run. If we want to kick his ass, we'll kick his ass.

MARISHA: Yeah. (sniffing) I kind of want to kick his ass, and I don't want to run.

TRAVIS: Could I ask you, in your wildest dreams, and feel free to say you don't want to tell me, what would you have happen when we go there?

MARISHA: I think I've worked so hard because I scripted this day, in my inevitable future that I would go back to him, successful woman, respectable member of society, Cobalt Soul, an Expositor, the thing he threw me away to, and I embraced. And then, I would get mad at myself, because I felt like I was doing exactly what he was doing to me my entire life, scripting me to be something else. And I'm still doing it. I haven't seen him in three years, and I'm still trying to be... something. And I think what's scary is that I like this, and what I've found, and I don't think it was until Nott started talking about having to go home and go away that it truly started terrifying me. Because for the first time, I'm happy. And what if that goes away?

Sixth image:

LIAM: (sighs softly) (sniffles) So far. I'm going to miss him.

LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.

LIAM: I'm going to miss Letters.

(sniffles)

LAURA: They were-- They were alive.

LIAM: Out of any of us, he just wanted to help.

Seventh image:

TRAVIS: It could always go away. It could go away tonight. The Gentleman's debtors could come calling.

MARISHA: (chuckling) And I think I know that, and I think I say things to Nott like, "You don't have to put those stipulations on yourself" because I've convinced myself that destiny or the inevitability won't come knocking. If you ignore it, it won't exist, and that's not true.

TRAVIS: (sighs) It'll be interesting either way. Your face is leaking.

MARISHA: I hate it.

TRAVIS: I won't tell anyone.

MARISHA: Don't tell anybody.

TRAVIS: Yep. You're a good friend. You're a good trainer.

Eighth image:

LAURA: I want you to know that that for a while it may have felt that you and I were not seeing eye to eye or maybe you felt that I, I didn't have the same goal in mind that you did. But don't worry about that anymore, all right?

LIAM: I understand family.

LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.

LIAM: I want for all the world for you to have your family.

LAURA: I wanted that, too, and (chuckles) god, that back and forth is a pretty funny thing, but choices were made. If nothing else, then at least we've got a little bit of knowledge on the inside now.

LIAM: Yeah. As much we'd like to, you can't turn back the clock.

LAURA: That's right. But you've got us.

Bonus image 1:

MARISHA: Mom already fucking mentioned that life gets difficult and it's hard. So you're right. Maybe it's easy to justify the easy way out, just get rid of the problem.

MATT: "That's not what this was about. You were on the self-destructive path. We didn't know what to do. I've never been a-- no one teaches you how to be a good father. I regret choices I've made, and you don't think I don't hold myself responsible for-- I thought I was doing what was best for you, truly."

MARISHA: You did. It was probably the best thing you could've done for me. So thank you. Tell me the story again, and then I'll go.

Bonus image 2 (from 3x89):

MATT: "History is filled with evil men. But few have the courage to stand up and try and stop them. Where I'm standing, I don't think we're on the opposing sides like you think we are. We just have a different myth, that's all. That's all. Please see it in yourself to understand why I've done and given up all of this."

LAURA: Maybe it's your turn to run. And I wake up.

#critical role #fjord stone #beauregard lionett #imogen temult #orym

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granddaughterofdemeter · 3 days

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you color me blue, mm

[percy jackson x f!reader]

before he went missing

"You're fun, and you're wild, but you don't half of the shit that you put me through."

Dear flower myself, I don’t know why I assumed that I would give it over to my darling flower after our fight. I know she hates me now because of what I said last month. That we were only a fling…I wanted to say I love you too. I wanted to say that you are my special girl.But Martinez made me mad when they started dating. Bragging about how good she tasted on his tongue sent me. But then I just told her to stop talking to him if she loved me even though we weren’t dating and her pretty [e/c] eyes suffocated me so hard that I couldn’t talk loud enough to tell her that I…I love her…but if I tell her now she'll hate me, and I don't want that.-Percy

It was during last month that he started dating Rachel Elizabeth Dare along with the discovery of a new demi-god, Carlos Martinez, who annoyed Percy enough to start the argument. That day was the last day that you cried for him, the sobs heard by Annabeth and Hudson who were spending time with each other in Cabin 4, Demeter. You shed tears because another girl stole him away from you and because you could feel your adoration slowly slip away from him.

He didn't like that.

" Hey Jackson! Have you seen my girlfriend, [Name]?"

Percy frowned, Riptide twisting through his long, pale, fingers. His curly, blonde, hair fell against his forehead as he stared at his ballpoint pen.

" No, I haven't seen my gi-[L/N], if you're here to brag about how much she ‘loves’ you, don't bother. I’ve heard it from her cousin and Annabeth enough because they hate me for letting you crawl into her life. ." He snarled, his anger as evident as his love for you was to his close friends.

Grover stared at the Son of Poseidon while sitting with his girlfriend, Juniper. Sometimes he wondered if you knew how Percy loses his mind while thinking of you, but Grover knows you deserve better than his best friend.

And you were glad because of it.

"But I can't change that, and I can't change your mood."

Beginning Banner creator ->->->->->-> @khaer

End Banner Creator ->->->->->-> @kiyaedits

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livingformintyoongi · 3 days

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The Han Family | Min Yoongi

Summary: You and Yoongi were together during high school. He was only a year older than you, but that never mattered to you. You both fit in perfectly; you had the cheerfulness and positivity that Yoongi lacked, and he had the patience and seriousness that you lacked. You were together until Yoongi entered his second year of college, both of you decided to end on good terms. You never stopped loving him, and deep down you thought he hadn't completely forgotten you either. Despite keeping that deep love that you were sure you would never get over, you decided to go on with your life, seeing more people, having more casual loves, until the arrival of Jumyeon, the Han's eldest son, and the person who would end up signing your death sentence. It had been more than 10 years since you last saw Yoongi, and meeting him again because of your father-in-law's murder was definitely not the way you expected to see him again. wc: 2.9k

You were upset, no, probably upset would be putting it mildly, you were furious. You couldn't believe that your boyfriend, the one you wasted four fucking years of your life for, was cheating on you for over two years, and worse, with his best friend, that same girl he practically forced you to meet because he wanted his girlfriend and best friend to be close. At least his "friend" had the basic human decency to confess to you that she was messing with him for years.

"I picked your favorite restaurant, I had a hard time making a reservation" Jumyeon said, smiling at you as cheerfully as possible. You almost grimaced, but you tried to control yourself, you were supposed to be a mature woman, for god's sake, you were almost 30, you should be able to have control over yourself.

"Thank you, that's a very nice gesture" you murmured, drinking all the wine in your glass. This didn't even make it into the top 10 of your favorite restaurants. You hated the way they cooked their meat, and you knew the owner in person (who was close friends with Jumyeon), it wasn't much better than their supposedly quality food.

You looked at the large window next to you. The only thing worthwhile about this place was the view of the Han River. It was a sight worth seeing.

"I already placed the order, so all we have left to do is wait" he pulled out his phone for a second, but put it away as quickly as he took it. You assumed she was his mistress, or should you say "friend"?

"Okay" you leaned forward, resting your head on your hands. You wanted to wait for the right moment to tell him, as gently as possible, to go fuck himself.

You listened to him ramble on about his job for what seemed like hours. You had never cared about his work, but at least you heard him, you had the basic respect for him that couples should have. Now that he had disrespected you in such a way, why listen to his complaints? You owed him nothing, no more.

"Oh, thanks for the food," your boyfriend said in a cheerful tone.

Only then did you pay attention to what was in front of you. The waiter lifted the plate cover carefully, looking at both of you at the same time. He was probably a hopeless romantic.

Unlike him, you just felt nauseous enough to make you lean forward. This man seriously sucked.

"Y/N" he approached you, pulling a red velvet box out of his pocket. "These years by your side have been the happiest of my life" If he was so happy, why did he cheat on you? "I knew you would be the love of my life the moment I saw you", and that's why he was so eager for you to change to his liking instead of letting you be yourself, "and I couldn't have been more right, because, honestly, I can't see a future where you're not" he sank to one knee, bringing out a ring that looked way too ostentatious. You wanted to throw it in his face. "And I know deep down you feel the same way I do, so please do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the world. Marry me."

You stared at him, clenching your fists so tightly that your palms were starting to hurt. You turned to look at the dessert the waiter had camouflaged with the plate cover. A big "Will you marry me?" was written in the center.

And suddenly, your immature side came out. You could no longer contain your urge to punch this jerk.

"Marry you?" you muttered, taking the small cake with which he tried to propose to you. You smiled almost helplessly. "Did you seriously just ask me that?".

Jumyeon laughed, standing up from the floor and looking at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Well, I know you'll say yes, but I thought that-".

You didn't let him continue, you didn't want to keep hearing his voice, so you did the first thing that popped into your head. You threw the dessert in his face and scrubbed it until there was nothing left. And, my god, it felt so satisfying.

"How can you ask me that after spending the afternoon with your so-called friend?" you growled, leaving the plate of cake on the table. "Are you so unmanly that you need to play with two women at once!?".

You ignored the murmurs from the audience, you didn't want to draw their attention, but you were too upset to speak softly, and he was the one who decided to do this in a public place.

"What? Is your brain not capable of coming up with excuses in such a short time?" you swept him with your eyes, feeling disgusted. "Never mind, I have no interest in listening to your lies anymore anyway."

You grabbed your purse and pulled out your wallet, throwing a few bills in his face, "So you can pay the bill."

And you left, ignoring his screams and insults.

And, for the first time in years, you felt free.

You smiled big as you approached the elevator, and when you came within shouting distance of excitement, a guy a little taller than you knocked you to the floor.

You complained quietly, taking the hand he offered you, but not seeing his face. You were too happy to complain to him.

"Sorry, I didn't look where I was walking" you gave a little bow, ready to leave. Until you felt a hand stop on your wrist.

"Y/N?"

For the first time since you collided you noticed the man standing in front of you, and shit, how you wished you hadn't crossed paths with him just then.

"Yoongi" you muttered, feeling your throat dry. He looked even more beautiful than the last time you saw him.

"You look... different" he said softly, letting go of your wrist, but not taking his gaze away from you.

"You too" you tried to smile, but you felt too uncomfortable to do so.You were embarrassed for Yoongi to see you like this. "You're back to black" you hastened to say, pointing to his hair.

It looked much longer and shinier than the last time you saw it, and it fit him like a glove. If his intention was to make women like you want to tangle their fingers in it, he had more than succeeded.

"And you cut it" he moved his hand up to your mane. Your hair reached only a few inches below your chin, a far cry from the long, unruly style you had when you were still his girlfriend and you swore to him that you would never cut it because it was your most prized possession.

Now you feel even sillier.

"I wanted to try a new style" you nodded quickly, fiddling with the strap of your purse.You were back to feeling like a stupid teenager incapable of talking to the boy she likes. To a certain extent it was true. You were never able to get over Yoongi, you don't think you ever will at some point."But I didn't like it as much as I thought I would" you sighed, tightening the strap on your bag.

"You-?"

"Chaeyoung!" your now ex-boyfriend shouted as he ran in the direction of you and Yoongi. It didn't escape your notice that before he noticed Yoongi's presence, he was coming over annoyed enough to slap you. You saw his hand clenched tightly."What the hell was that ruckus earlier, do you know how many cameras were in the place, how many important people were there?".

"Well, maybe you should have thought your proposal through better" for a moment you completely forgot that it wasn't just the two of you in the hallway, but you didn't care.That son of a bitch deserved someone to put him in his place, and you wanted so badly to be that person yourself. "Or to have fucking zipped your pants when it belonged, or am I wrong? Because if so, say so to me and Minah for that matter, because she feels the same way I do too."

You watched as he fixed his gel-covered hair, turning away for a second to catch his breath."It was an accident, understand? It's not how she painted it."

"An accident over two years old? Can you explain to me how that works? Did you just happen to fall on her and coincidentally your penis went into her because you both happened to be unclothed in the same fucking hotel room?" you laughed listlessly, crossing your arms, "Don't you dare think I'm stupid enough to turn blind eyes to something that's been going on for years."

Yoongi, who had been silent until that moment, cleared his throat, moving forward to stand beside you. You took a breath, trying to maintain your composure in front of him. It was quite a difficult task.

"Are you Han Jumyeon by any chance?" he muttered in a monotone voice staring at your ex-boyfriend. It came to scare you a bit how cold his gaze seemed. Still you thought he was attractive.Very attractive.

"Yes" he looked at Yoongi from head to toe, he looked a little confused, but he was used to that kind of question. He was one of the most well-known businessmen in South Korea, he was in the news quite a bit, so it wasn't strange that he knew him. "Who are you?"

"Officer Min Yoongi" he pulled out his badge from his shirt pocket, "I am one of the people in charge of the investigation of Mr. Han's death, I need both you and your..." his gaze paused for a moment on you before turning back to Jumyeon, "ex-girlfriend come to the police station so I can question you."

"Did you say death?" you looked at Yoongi and then at Jumyeon, covering your mouth with your hand. You wished the worst for that... man, if that's what you could call him, but that didn't mean you wished his father had died in whatever circumstance. If Yoongi was involved in this, it meant it wasn't from natural causes.

"What are you talking about? My father died? When? How?" he brought his hands to his hair, tugging on it lightly. "You said you were an officer, didn't you? So that means it wasn't an accident?"

You wondered internally if Yoongi saw the same twisted smile you saw.

You saw how he nodded slowly, his impassive gaze stopping on Jumyeon. He didn't seem to pity him, let alone empathize, in fact, if you still had your wonderfully useless abilities to understand Yoongi, he even seemed annoyed with him. Maybe he thought he was guilty? You would think so too after seeing the expression from earlier.

"As I told you before, I need to take you to the police station right now, we need to ask you a few questions regarding Mr. Han, I would appreciate it if you could cooperate as much as possible."

You nodded quickly, moving a little closer to Yoongi, "Did you come by car? Mine is in the parking lot."

"Don't worry, we'll go in mine," he murmured, barely brushing his fingers on your back, "go to the elevator first, I'll go next to Jumyeon."

You obeyed his command, walking to the elevator and waiting for it to reach your floor. You thundered your finger bones as you moved your left leg. You were still a bit in shock with the news, you were trying to think through your next move with Jumyeon, you didn't think things through very well before throwing the dessert in his face and shouting to the four winds that he was unfaithful to you with his best friend.

You turned to look at your ex-boyfriend, who stood next to Yoongi stiffly. He looked in your direction every so often, but averted his gaze immediately. Yoongi, on the other hand, kept his gaze fixed on you the entire time you were looking at them. It kept causing your stomach to churn and your heart to flip.

The sound of the elevator forced you to look away from both men. To your surprise, no one was inside it, which, on the one hand, was wonderful, as you wouldn't have to put up with the strong smell of expensive perfume and conversations between strangers that sounded too empty. But, on the other hand, you had to be alone with those other two.

You shook your head, trying to get that stupid thought out of your head, and entered the elevator followed by Yoongi and Jumyeon. You convinced yourself that the tense atmosphere was due to the news Yoongi gave you, but deep down you knew it wasn't so.

You knew your ex like the palm of your hand, you knew when he was genuinely sad and when he was not. You were aware that he wasn't feeling depressed at all, but he was angry, probably at you and whoever had attacked his father. You tried to avoid the idea of him being that way with you.

You brought your thumb to your mouth, biting your nail. Jumyeon's gaze on you was starting to feel too stinging and the fear started to grow as your head generated worst case scenarios. You had such a good imagination when it came to going against you.

The brush of fingers on your right hand made you jump in place. You turned to see who it was, and almost cried with happiness when you noticed it was only Yoongi. He discreetly caressed the knuckles of your hand, completely avoiding looking at you.

You had forgotten how good it felt to have someone who could read your body language so easily that just by looking at you or listening to you, he would understand that you were having a hard time. Yoongi was the only person you dated who could accomplish that. Maybe that was one of the reasons why you still weren't able to forget him.

You stopped biting your nail, concentrating on Yoongi's touch on your skin. It brought back so many memories.

"We'll talk at home about earlier" Jumyeon murmured, glancing sideways at you, "I think you're still a little confused."

"I'm not" you replied on impulse, staring at him, were you afraid? Obviously, was that going to stop you from telling him to his face? Of course not. "I gave you my answer, now act like a man for the first time in your life and accept it" you growled under your breath, holding back the urge you had to spit in his face.

You listened as Yoongi cleared his throat, and you knew he was doing it to camouflage his laughter. You didn't care, you would have done the same thing in his place.

"Stop fucking around and just say yes" Jumyeon turned to look at you, and if looks killed, you'd be on the floor, bleeding out, dying, you'd be a ghost.

"Why don't you shut up? Your voice is annoying, it makes my head hurt" Yoongi muttered, this time taking your hand firmly.

You internally prayed that Jumyeon wouldn't see it, you didn't want any more trouble than you already had.

The rest of the time in the elevator was in silence. Being so many floors it took you a few minutes to get down. They were the worst minutes of your life.

"We'll go in my car" Yoongi looked at Jumyeon before exiting the elevator. Holding hands with you. In front of him.

You saw out of the corner of your eye how his face distorted at the sight of your hands together. You reminded yourself that you didn't owe him any explanation. You had done nothing wrong, so why should you justify yourself? You nodded mentally, trying to encourage yourself.

Yoongi took out his key and unlocked his car. It was big and black, too shiny. You smiled as you remembered Yoongi always talked about how, when he had money, he would buy a nice apartment and a black car that looked so amazing that any teenager at his age would want one like that.

He let go of you for a moment only to open the passenger door and help you in. You screamed internally.

Jumyeon got in after you, to the back seats obviously, and before Yoongi got in and could hear him he came up to your ear.

"Wait till we get home, you fucking hypocritical bitch" he growled under his breath, returning to his seat as soon as Yoongi entered.

You looked down at your hands, staring at the nail you bit earlier. You didn't do anything wrong, you're not like him, you repeated yourself over and over, trying to ignore the pressure in your chest.

You leaned your head against the car window, watching as he started to move and head for the exit of the parking lot. You just closed your eyes, wanting to get to the station later to give your statement and get as far away from that man as possible.

You wiped away an unruly tear that dared to fall down your cheeks. He's not worth it, you told yourself, not anymore.

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