#that side eye of disbelief and betrayal <3

[saetoru]

imagine rich boy gojo finding out your name for him in his phone is just “satoru” or something 💀 and then from the side geto is like “mine’s got an emoji!”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NO HEART — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

rich boy! gojo, college au, fluff, established relationships, dramatic gojo which is consistent in every version of him no matter the au

studying with gojo satoru is the worst idea you could ever allow to happen—and yet, every time he asks, you let it happen.

“baby, aren’t you getting my texts?” gojo pouts. it earns him an unimpressed glare from you as you look up from your textbook, a glare that makes him wilt while geto snickers from the corner.

“satoru, if you don’t stop bothering me while we’re supposed to be studying, so help me—”

“but it’s funny, look,” he whines. and before you can stop him, he picks up the untouched phone beside you, tapping the screen to unlock it. except, he doesn’t make it that far.

suddenly the world stills. it stops spinning on its axis. and suddenly, gojo satoru’s face is the dictionary definition of devastation.

“satoru, what’s wrong,” you furrow your brows.

“satoru. satoru? satoru?” he repeats, each time in more disbelief than the last.

“that’s….your name, yes?” you raise a brow. and then realization strikes your features—or so he thinks. he’s soon to find out he’s mistaken. “oh, sorry,” you snort, “toru, is that better? toru, get to studying—”

“my name in your phone is just satoru?” he asks, cutting you off like you’ve genuinely wounded him—the betrayal on his face and the shock in his voice are all too real.

you blink for a moment before you realize the source of his tantrum seems to be the contact name you have for him in your phone. only gojo satoru would find a way to make a big deal out of his own name, you think.

“well, yeah,” you shrug, “it’s your name. plus i had it set when i first got your number from that project. i hated you back then.”

“you called me gojo back then,” he squints accusingly.

“yeah that’s because it was gojo satoru at first,” you nod. from the side, you hear geto snicker again about the full government name to himself—which earns him a pillow thrown at his direction by gojo. “i deleted the gojo part when we started dating,” you add.

“oh so you can delete my surname once we started dating but you couldn’t even add a heart?” he asks, jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed in that dramatic way he does. it’s a bit cute, the way he’s worked up over something so small—but it’s also entirely theatric, making you roll your eyes.

“would a heart make you feel better, satoru?” you purse your lips.

“no! not if you don’t add it because you want to,” he huffs, “you might as well just say you don’t love me!”

“satoru,” you sigh in exasperation. maybe if you didn’t have physics 1302 problems to work through—a whole six of them due before midnight, in fact—you would humor him in his elaborately dramatized attempt at getting your attention. but you have classes to pass and gpa’s to maintain, so you purse your lips instead. “it’s just a contact name. what’s mine?”

“it’s baby <3. with a heart. see?” sure enough, when his phone is turned to face you, it’s baby <3. with a heart.

“i have an emoji in my contact,” geto adds from the side, ever the instigator, “maybe it’s because i’m cuter—”

“you gave suguru’s an emoji?” he asks in distress, staring at you like you’ve told him you’ve cheated. you think you might hurt his feelings less if you did, with the way his lips are curled in a genuine frown.

“suguru set his own contact,” you defend, shooting the nuisance in the corner a sharp glare. geto only offers you a sly wink in return. “i didn’t realize you cared that much about contact names,” you shrug, “i can change it—”

“no need,” gojo huffs, holding up a hand to silence you as he turns away and sticks his nose in the air in defiance. “i’ll just change yours to your full government name. see how you like it.”

“satoru—”

“and you’re not getting a heart either,” he glares, deleting the <3 slowly just for show, making eye contact with you so you know the severity of your actions.

you roll your eyes, snatching your phone back as you shake your head. “if i make your contact baby <3 with a heart because you’re my baby, will that cheer you up,” you sigh.

he ponders it for a moment, as if debating the offer. and then his arms cross in defiance once more. “no. make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss emoji.”

“gross,” geto twists his face in disgust.

gojo turns to him, face blank and serious as he shoots, “single people should not speak when it’s not their turn,” before turning back to you. “i’ll consider forgiving you if you make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss.”

“okay,” you sigh, “baby boy it is.”

“with a kiss!” he glares.

“with a kiss,” you assure, rolling your eyes.

“can i also get a kiss?” he asks hopefully, eyes wide and bright and earnest enough to warm your heart.

you smile, chuckling at the way he looks so cute, at the way he melts your heart and makes you forget you have physics homework for a moment—but only for a moment because then you mumble, “no. now do your homework.”

PLS THIS PROMPT KILLED ME

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[5sospenguinqueen]

Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #social media au imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 headcanon #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 headcanon #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #the grid #max verstappen #max verstappen smau #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #george russell imagine #george russell smau #george russell x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smau

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 3: TOO SOFT TO CHEW

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: smut (18+ mdni), bratty satoru, big angst, angry sex, oral sex (m receiving)

ੈ✩ wc: 3.3k

ੈ✩ a/n: i kind of hate how short this chapter is but it's a primer for the hell that breaks loose in later chapters. hope yall are enjoying kiss kiss kiss

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

September, 2008

The way Satoru wants you makes your head spin. Your encounters are irregular and almost always in secret. Satoru likes to show you different spots around town, secret havens where he doesn’t have to worry about getting interrupted. This is what he tells you – he doesn’t want to waste a minute with you. You believe him.

It gets unnerving when he begins to take you while you’re both in school. Sometimes in a single-stall bathroom, once in a supply closet. Every time, he makes you cum, and after you’re both spent, you walk back to class together without a word. He doesn’t touch you otherwise.

It contrasts the clingy Satoru that you get at home. He’s touchy, annoyingly so, as if he can’t stand to not be tethered to you for more than two minutes. He is infinitely suffocating and you are too infatuated to care.

When he’s entangled with you in his bed, you ask him a question that guts him.

“Do you think staying like this is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Satoru mumbles sleepily. “You wanna get out of bed?”

“No, I mean, this,” you make a vague gesture, “I just… figure that when we go off to different colleges it’ll be harder. To, um, hang out.”

“Huh? What college are you going to?”

You know he doesn’t mean it rudely, like the thought of you investing in higher education was something implausible. You think that maybe he hadn’t thought that far into the future when it came to the two of you together. It makes you ache regardless.

You tell him about the university you got into that was able to give you a scholarship. He looks at you like you have three heads.

“Don’t you want to go to Jujutsu Tech with me?” he asks. 

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have a technique.”

There’s an awkward silence between you. The air shifts. He pulls you a bit closer, has his hand cupping your jaw. 

“Satoru– I’m not going to be a sorcerer–”

“Why not?” he yawns. “You could get in, easily. Especially if I have anything to do with it. And Shoko could teach you a thing or two—”

“Who said I wanted to become a sorcerer?” you blurt.

Satoru looks at you in disbelief with a hint of betrayal behind his eyes. As if what you say is preposterous, unheard of. Because where would you be if not by his side?

He argues with you about this. It makes your blood warm. The thought of having to follow him around. Forever stuck in his shadow. He was already blessed by heavenly bodies, Six Eyes and all. You were nothing.

You could never compare to the inherent invincibility of his cursed technique. No one truly could. Knowing how late your technique manifested makes you feel even more inferior. With your status in the world, a maid’s daughter, there was no point in becoming a pawn in the Jujutsu world. How would you make a career? How could you ever be strong enough to save anyone? And if you died, you’d only leave behind your mother. 

The wedge between you deepens after that. You realize how far away you are from Satoru on paper despite him aching for your touch, close enough to you right now as his breath licks your face.

There’s no resolution. It snowballs into something worse. This looming threat is above your heads now, a slap of reality about how different the two of you are. You realize it would be convenient for Satoru if the thing between the two of you ended. It wouldn’t matter to him – he had everything. He always would. You only had your heart and your dignity. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Satoru sighs against your temple. “We’ll figure it out. I really do think you should come to Jujutsu Tech.”

He shuts you up with his mouth, with his hands circling your thighs like he always does, the way you always let him.

November, 2008

You’re getting better at your technique. You think you could do just fine if Satoru wasn’t constantly breathing down your neck about it. Especially when he does stupid things to challenge your ability – absentmindedly burning himself on a lighter when he hits a joint, sucking in bruises into your skin that turn dark purple. You’re able to heal it all, but he knows you’re capable of more.

“C’mon. Hit me again.”

“You won’t even let me hit you!”

“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough. I even let my Infinity down for you.”

Truthfully, Satoru lets his Infinity down for you all the time. It’s as easy as breathing to be around you, and he knows you don’t have the capacity to harm him. There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

You groan in frustration. Satoru’s had you in his backyard for at least two hours, attempting basic combat with cursed energy. Despite claiming that he wants to train you to at least be able to fend for yourself, you think he just enjoys playing with you like a dog. 

“Why are we even doing this?” you complain.

“Even if you don’t end up a big-shot sorcerer, I feel like you should still be able to exorcise a curse,” he shrugs. You’re winded and Satoru looks more than fine. Even after all the athletics, he doesn’t have a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his T-shirt. 

“But my technique is for healing.”

“You have incredible cursed energy output, though,” Satoru says. “It’s why I could never believe you were just a Window.”

The flicker of Satoru’s cursed energy brightens, you notice. You blink and see a dark figure emerge from the side of the house. One with fox-like eyes and a warm smile.

“Satoru! What have you done to our girl?” Suguru bellows. He holds a bag of daifuku in hand, giving you one without asking before Satoru grabs the package greedily. 

“You know I like roughing her up,” Satoru shrugs. “She’s a big girl, she needs to be able to scare away creepy men, y’know?”

“Like who, you? You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, dumbass,” you chastise. 

“You could never get rid of me, Twigs.” He grins despite the cheekful of mochi. You and Suguru share a look of distaste. 

Satoru agrees to a snack break, if only to eat most of the daifuku while you make tea for the three of you. Suguru helps you prepare and clean up. It surprises you.

“Thank you, Geto-san.”

He tells you to call him by his first name and you try to convince yourself it’s nothing.

For some reason, Satoru is more rambunctious than usual. He almost always is whenever Suguru is around as if he’s waiting impatiently for something to happen. Waspish. Suguru often calls him a little brat. It’s nothing you could ever say to him, not in a way that has the same meaning. He’s the only one who can tame the beast. Satoru sees Suguru as his other half. Where one goes, the other follows. 

In the grass, they are an ouroboros of limbs as they brawl. Milky flesh flushed pink, gruff grunts and giggles. You imagine yourself between the two boys. You wonder about the taste of Suguru’s skin. If Satoru knows. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

You watch them in awe. Two godlings entwined. 

It’s not enough to want to be in between them — and you know better, because you will never be them. 

“Tap out, Sugu,” Satoru whines. “I’m bored. Let’s train Twigs again.”

“She clearly doesn’t want to,” Suguru remarks, pushing Satoru off like a pest. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt, exposing his abdomen underneath. You feel like you should look away. “You like sitting in the audience, right, princess?”

Satoru grins at your reaction to princess. You hope the idea of calling you that himself doesn’t get into his head. 

“C’mon, Suguru. Throw her one of your curses. Maybe something without too many legs. She hates those.”

“Absolutely not,” you interject, crossing your arms.

“Okay, then heal me,” Suguru chuckles. He shows you a scratch on his forearm. “This motherfucker fights like a cat.”

“Acts like one, too,” you grumble. “A very annoying one that always wants attention.”

You heal him within seconds and he’s good as new. He holds your hand after, just for a moment. When you blink towards Satoru’s direction, he drops it. 

“You staying for dinner?” Satoru asks. He doesn’t look at you. He isn’t asking you. His gaze is on Suguru instead. 

“Nah, I promised Shoko I’d help her get decorations for the party on Friday,” Suguru answers. He turns to you. “You’re coming, right?”

“Uh—”

“To Shoko’s birthday party. I thought she invited you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you shrug. Satoru is quiet, pretending to be distracted by his phone. “Satoru?”

“Oh, huh?” He looks up, feigning oblivion. “Yeah. You should come.” 

Maybe he’d forgotten to tell you about it. You swear he has some form of ADHD from how scatterbrained he is. 

Then again, you think about all the time you spend with Satoru. You’re always alone with him, with Suguru as an occasional buffer when he wants to be. The thought of Satoru’s arm around you at a party excites you. Would he hold your hand? Would he introduce you to other people?

“It’ll be, uh, here,” he mutters. “At nine.”

Oh.

“The theme is Scorpio, so wear something hot and dark,” Suguru winks. 

“A sexy little number with a bunch of legs and a stinger, too,” Satoru quips.

satoru: skip next period with me

satoru: wanna kiss u

One thing you’ve known about Satoru since he was a child is that he is annoying when he doesn’t get attention. 

You keep to yourself during the school day, not bothering to see him for lunch in the courtyard like you do every other day. You ignore his texts. You don’t look at him in class.

It’s the same behavior towards him from the last semester. But that was before he started fucking you. When he sears his gaze into your head during class and you don’t even bother to look up, he feels fucking insane. Of course, he won’t rest until he corners you.

He finds you later under a tree, cradled by roots. You look so peaceful that he almost feels bad about interrupting you, but he’s been bereft of your attention all day.

“You done giving me the silent treatment yet?” His voice booms above you. He tilts his head at you coyly. Hands shoved in his front pockets. 

You squint up at him from your position, startled by his arrival. You’re attempting to read your book in the grass, which isn’t half-dead yet. You don’t say anything as he sits besides you and fiddles with a clementine in his large hands. He peels the skin and feeds you a slice. 

“Wow,” Satoru scoffs, only mildly affronted. “So you’ll take my snacks but not text me back.”

“You offered,” you shrug. 

You let him kiss your neck, feather-soft as he pushes your hair to your back. You stay still and continue to read, despite his distractions. You try to blame the shiver down your spine on the cool gust of wind that passes and not Satoru’s tongue on your skin. He’s obnoxious when he indulges, especially when it comes to you.

“Are you mad at me?” he whines in your ear. Teeth on your earlobe.

“No.”

“Yes, you are,” he grins. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me all day. What is it, baby? Wanna sit on my face about it?”

You roll your eyes, even though heat flashes in your center at his vulgar words. Satoru never took you seriously, even when you were kids. It seemed that he wasn’t going to start even now that you’re intimate together.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the party?” you ask. 

He looks at you and raises a brow, casually slipping another clementine slice into his mouth. He shrugs.

“Slipped my mind, I guess.”

“You’re hosting it, Satoru. You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you’d be there anyway since it’s at my house. It didn’t occur to me that you needed a formal invitation.”

It’s ironic. Because of all people, you would understand what it’s like to be separate from others, and he knew that. You never belonged anywhere, therefore you could never assume you were welcome. You were only at the Gojo residence because his family allowed you to be. You’re around Satoru all the time because he lets you. 

While Satoru has had his fair share of teenage hedonism, with Suguru and Shoko, you were never a part of it despite your proximity to his family. He always prefers you alone.

It stings. You wonder if he knows or if he’s just careless. You assume Satoru has never had to care about anyone other than himself, anyway. 

Unfortunately, he’s good at soothing your wounds.

You try to resist him, but it ends with you wrestling him to the ground when he tries to touch your thigh. His arms are pinned above his head and he groans when you grind against him. Already, he’s half-hard.

“Look at you,” Satoru whistles. “Brave girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me. You know how.”

You glare at him. You know that he’s taunting you to get what he wants. You also know that trying to resist him makes his dick even harder. 

He squirms in your grasp for a second, chuckling as you struggle with him. He can overpower you, easily. He’s arrogant enough to, but he’s enjoying your irritability at the moment. 

His laugh makes you tick, makes you claw at the front of his slacks and unzip them to palm his hard cock. You slide down his briefs to swirl your tongue along his slit, tasting salt.

“Jesus,” Satoru moans, surprised.

You’ve barely started, but it’s easy for you to work your hand up and down his shaft because of how wet he already is. It would fill your chest with pride if you weren’t so pissed off with him. 

You choke on his length when he bucks his hips up. He mumbles an apology when he feels your hand grip his hip. His grunts spur you on, as do his praises, the growl of his words arousing you. Satoru tries to grab a fistful of your hair but you swat him away.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I can’t believe – shit – you’re sucking me off in public. What’s gotten into you?”

“You talk too much,” you mutter, sliding him out of your mouth and replacing it with your hands. You feel him twitch in your palms. He’s writhing – a young god underneath you. For once, you feel a little powerful.

“You little slut,” he hisses. “Fucked you so many times that I’ve completely defiled you.”

“God, I might just sit on your face to get you to shut the fuck up.”

He moans at that. He could flip you over and fuck you senseless with how strong he is, but he doesn’t care to. When your mouth latches onto his cock again, he doesn’t care about anything except your tongue.

When you squeeze the base of him tightly, Satoru fucking whines.

“Fuck, fuck– I’m so close. Wait, stop–”

He pulls at your hair but you continue, sloppily lapping at him with your hot tongue, making him shudder. 

“Baby, wanna be inside you–”

Too damn bad.

You can tell how close he is because of his inability to speak. Instead, it’s heavy breaths, chest rising and falling as he grips your hair harder than before. The sound of his groans makes your cunt ache. 

“Oh, fuck–”

And then you let go of him. 

He stares at you in disbelief. Something surges inside him – a flame. It isn’t exactly anger. Perhaps something more devious. He really wants to ruin you now. 

Your mouth is red and raw. You blink at Satoru, half-expecting him to lash out. In his own way, he does, with his tongue down your throat and his hand around your neck. There’s a flash around you. When you open your eyes, you’re in his bed. 

You whine when he tugs your blouse down roughly, his teeth biting into your shoulder hard. Canines breaking skin. You’re all red for him, flushed and dripping. 

“Satoru!”

“Payback,” he mutters, before pushing you onto your side. His cock is still hard. It throbs against you as he slides it in between your thighs. He can feel you through your panties, how wet you are for him.

“I’m not mad at you for edging me,” he murmurs into your ear. He grips your hair like before, forcing your neck to stretch, all exposed for him. “Did you know I used to dream about you sucking me off outside like that? On school grounds?”

“You’re such a fucking pervert,” you rasp.

“Me?” he laughs. It feels unkind. “You’re the one who was gagging on my cock after ignoring me all day. How is that any sort of punishment?”

“Because I didn’t let you cum.” You grit your teeth.

“So mean,” he taunts. You squeal when he reaches underneath your skirt and presses a finger onto your sensitive clit, pinching. “I’ll make you cum. Might not let you stop cumming.”

He slides your panties to the side and fucks you with your back to his chest. Satoru intends to keep his promise, but he can’t exactly do that when he’s so fucking close. Your edging him had him riled up, a fever with aching limbs.

He splits you open like this. Deeper than usual, curiously, despite this being a recurrent position of yours. Satoru thinks about you ass up and face down, whining into the mattress. For now, he likes spooning you. It’s lazy and rough at the same time.

He holds out like he means to – makes you cum on his cock twice before he spills himself onto the backs of your thighs. You don’t let him kiss you once during it, your last form of protest. He settles himself by biting at your neck like a wolf taking a lamb. He eats your cunt for a while, too, licking up your sweetness down to the last drop until you’re begging him to stop.

When you both lay there in silence, Satoru thinks it’s odd how quiet you are. He thought that he fucked the attitude out of you by now, but when he turns his head to meet yours, you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

He means the sex, so you shake your head. You aren’t sure what to make of the gaping cavern inside of your chest after it, though—still feeling separate from him despite being intertwined. 

“You could do anything you wanted to me and I think I’d let you.”

He’s quiet. He hates that hearing it turns him on because this isn’t pillow talk. He isn’t sure what it is.

“You like that, don’t you?” you ask softly. You turn to face him now, your eyes dim. 

He does. He wants to possess you, hold you in the palm of his hand so no one else can. So no one else will. But he doesn’t answer you, only swallows the lump in his throat.

“I like you,” Satoru breathes. He wants to keep you. He’s selfish like that.

“I like you, too, Satoru,” you say. 

You sound almost dejected. He doesn’t pry. 

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

[sinsirellaxx]

This request is so middle school core but I'm such a sucker for this trope, could you do how the toxic Slytherin boys would react to either them finding out they were a bet or you finding out you were a bet? I <3 your writing

Slytherin boys – You find out you are a bet/They find out they were a bet

Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys and physical abuse (Tom Riddle), so please proceed with caution. Otherwise have fun reading!

Also: Not proofread.

A/N: Thank you for your kind words! Honestly, same – I love those tropes that are all over TikTok. 🙈 Glad you enjoy my writing!

Mattheo …

… clenches his jaw when you glare at him with tears in your eyes, angry at himself and angry at whoever told you about the stupid bet. He watched you shake your head in disbelief before taking something out of your pockets. It was the money they had bet on. You flung the money in his face before storming out of his room. Mattheo just closed his eyes, his anger reaching a new peak as the money made contact with his face. How dare you throw something into his face?

He wouldn’t bother running after you. You’d be crawling back to him in no time.

Theodore …

… scoffs at your accusations. “Do you really believe them over me? Do you have that little trust in me?” He raises his brows, mock hurt all over his face. Theodore would make you feel bad for doubting his love for you. If his friends were the ones who told you, he’d have to talk with them. If your friends somehow found out and told you, he’d make you question their loyalties. “Don’t you see, bella? They’re trying to rip us apart. You know your friend still has a crush on me, don’t you? I didn’t want to tell you, because I don’t want to see you hurt, but it is true, cara mia.”

And just like that, you start apologizing to him. With a heavy sigh, Theodore pulls you into his arms, holding you close to his body. “I forgive you. But please – never doubt my love for you again.”

Bullet dodged.

Lorenzo …

… rubs his hands over his face as he paces around in his room. You have been trying to talk to him – apologize for your wrongdoings – but he simply wouldn’t listen. Lorenzo had already known about the bet – he was the mastermind behind it after all. He had been watching you for a while but did not know how to approach you without appearing too needy. So, instead he told his friends to make a bet with you – the goal: You have to seduce Lorenzo Berkshire. You had actually agreed and given it your best. Enzo had enjoyed the advances you had made; all the attention you had given him.

And this whole drama of him ‘finding out’ and you tearfully apologizing was just a positive side effect. It was his way to ensure your emotional dependency on him.

“How could you do this to me?” He cried softly as he slid down the wall, face in his hands as he forced himself to cry. You immediately ran to him, falling to your knees in front of him as you tried to pry his hands from his face, apologies falling from your lips like a mantra.

When you finally uttered the magical words, he had hoped for he bit back a smirk before removing his hands from his tear-stained face. Please, I’ll do anything you ask of me!

Draco …

… stared at you in disbelief. How did you find out? Raking his hand through his hair he stared at you silently. For once, he didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Because he knew that nothing he said would make it better. After a minute of silence your tears finally fell, your bottom lip trembling at the betrayal. How could you do this to me.

Your voice came out in a broken whisper before you walked out of his room, leaving the blonde to watch you leave with sad eyes.

Blaise …

… was honestly impressed when he found out about the bet. He never would have guessed you to engage in silly things such as bets. He’d underestimated you. Blaise would tell you that he knew – he’d let everything play out and watch your reactions whenever he mentioned words such as ‘bet’, ‘honesty’ and ‘loyalty’.

“I love you so much, babe. I really appreciate your honest and good-natured heart.” Blaise whispered against your lips before passionately kissing you. When he wanted to pull back, you followed him with your lips not wanting to part yet – not ready to look him into his eyes yet. You were obviously ashamed for hiding something from your boyfriend and Blaise knew. Oh, he knew, and he would enjoy watching you squirm and do anything to please him. And if you ever got mad at him for something or denied him any request, he’d throw the truth into your face and make you pay.

Tom …

… is deeply disappointed when he finds out. The more he thinks about it, the angrier he feels. And when you finally walk through the door of his dorm – he is filled with blinding rage.

“I didn’t think you’d stoop so low … how pathetic.” He grit out, his steps slow as he walked towards you with a dark look on his face. You stared at him with confusion written all over your face, your eyes wide with fear as he pressed you against the wall, trapping you between his arms.

“I can’t believe I didn’t find out sooner – and don’t you dare deny it.” He spat, clenching his jaw as he penetrated your mind. Your eyes widened when he found what he was looking for. He knew.

“Yes. I know.” He murmurs, dragging his nose from your cheek to your ear – and before you know it, one of his hands moves to your throat, fingers gripping tight as he smashes your head against the door.

“Time to reap what you sow.”

#slytherin boys #toxic slytherin boys #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys headcanons #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #angst

[leaflessfae]

Hiiiiiii

Pairings: Robin (M) and pc (F)

tags, content and trigger warnings! Somnophilia, (some?) gaslighting, noncon so rape, OOC Robin because I said so (especially towards the ending. Or at least, I think. Because what if they're secretly like this, huh?)

Also, I'm fairly new to this. The writing thing, I mean, so I don't know how to tag properly. If there's a tag I probably missed, please inform me! <3

Robin has always loved it when you come back to him after a long day.

He loves your tired lazy smile and limp, soft body as he greets you at the door of his room. You throw yourself at him, to which he giggles and immediately scoops you closer into his arms. He loves it every time; whether he spends the time speaking and beaming at you or with you sprawled on him in some type of way and sleeping while he games on his console.

He's your safespace. He loves it.

But sometimes, like right now, it's so hard to concentrate, so hard to behave. Especially when you're sleeping on top of him with your legs sprawled over each side of his body, crotch directly over his own, and your head resting on his chest.

Robin tries to focus on his game, prepping small kisses to the crown of your head now and then. He almost engages in it again. But then you stir, thigh brushing against the growing hardness in his pants, and he mewls quietly. He presses his lips together, his grip automatically tightening around his console and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before slowly opening them again. There's a little chant in the back of his head going 'forget it forget it forget it forget—'

He sets his gaming console aside and wraps his arms around you, taking deep and slow breaths whilst ignoring the painful bulge straining against the fabric. "Baby?" His voice is so quiet when he calls out to you, shaking as if hesitant whether to wake you or not.

You're tired. He shouldn't!

Oh but look at you. So safe, so at peace, so pretty in his arms.

"..b...baby..?" He tries again, and you move again. A whimper leaves his throat, and his hands shoot to keep your hips from moving. A quick glance at your face confirms you're still sleeping.

Hands at your hips now, his fingers start playing with the hem of your miniskirt. He shouldn't, he shouldn't he shouldn't–

Oh.

Oh.

You didn't have any panties on.

His breathing picks up a bit, and he gulps, hips slowly pushing up and pressing his clothed cock onto your pussy. Robin's breath wavers as he slowly exhales, and he repeats his movement, slowly rocking up into you. His arms wrap tighter around you, and he tilts his head back until it's pressing against the headboard.

"Just the tip baby, okay? Okay..." He whispers as he hastens to fish out his cock, thumb rubbing the head and dipping slightly into the slit, smearing pre all over. "Please, I'm so sorry.. the tip should be fine.. I promise, just the tip.."

It slips in so easily. Your lips hug his pretty red tip, almost taunting as it sucks him in. Robin looks at your face; still so snuggled and warm and peaceful on him; still knocked out cold.

He rocks his hips again, trying to not let his cock slip past your folds and into your velvety hot walls. "You feel so good... I don't know if I'll be able to hold back.."

So he starts sinking deeper, biting his lips to stop his moans as he feels your walls squeeze his length, so tight yet so slippery and perfect for him. A breathy chuckle emits his lips, "w..why are you so wet?"

It's only when he's halfway in that his breath hitches in his throat. Big, wide eyes staring back at his, your lips falling open slightly and closing, babbling nothing in disbelief. He can see the confusion flash in your eyes, mingling with disbelief and ending with what he fears the most. He can see it. He can feel it: betrayal.

"m sorry, baby, I can't help it.." his eyes turn glossy, but his cock sinks deeper as he gives you an apologetic smile, "You feel so good around me, I can't stop.." and ends with a strong thrust that buries him to the hilt inside your cunt.

You jolt in surprise at the sudden force, and your hands immediately press against his chest and push, trying to at least sit up. "R-Robin!?" You barely get to say before his arms push you back down on his chest, squeezing you tight and refusing to let go.

"Let me-" he breathes heavily, "let me fin..ah god...let me finish. P..please...yeah?"

You try to shake your head, but his hand cradles the back of your head. He strokes your hair with a shaky hand and buries his fingers between the strands, holding your head firm on his chest. Robin keeps spewing out apologies, his lips right at your ear while he moans and whimpers and apologizes over and over and over, hips snapping unrelentingly up to meet yours.

"Robin– I don't–! mmnh– I don't want this! What happened to you!?" You cry out, fat tears gushing out and wetting his shirt while you squirm and push, "Get a hold of yours-"

He muffles your protests with his lips. He can't take it; he can't handle you yelling at him. He can't and he doesn't want to feel like he betrayed you, even though he did.

He pushes his tongue past your lips, silencing you while he thrusts faster, almost there. He only pulls away to look at your red puffy eyes, "I'm your boyfriend, love. Aren't I? I...I should be allowed to do this."

You don't need his lips to silence you at this point because his words choke you. He doesn't stop there, only continuing to shatter your heart with each word he says next. "I should be allowed to do this to you. Or would you tolerate it from someone else?" His tone shifts, and suddenly you're crying out from the force he uses to push his cock deeper, "you wouldn't be this mad if Sydney were to do this to you? What about Whitney, hm? I saw you."

You sob, and he continues. "Is it because I'm the one using you? Is it- ah, fuck! I'm gonna-"

"You're," he pants, "you were about to cum too, right? I could feel it." He doesn't wait for you to answer, hand already slipping down between your bodies to toy with your clit. He rubs it in quick circles, applying just the right pressure that makes you writhe in no time, gasping out between your cries and clenching down on him.

His hips stutter and his cock twitches inside of you. Seconds later and you feel his cum spill deep into your womb. Robin pushes your hair away from your face gently while still spurting ropes of his seed inside you; he loves to look at your face when he does that. His hand cradles your cheek ever so lovingly, thumb gently wiping at your tears and leans forward a bit to kiss them away.

"There ya go." Robin smiles. His lips press onto your forehead, and his hand strokes your hair more gently now. "Go back to sleep baby, okay? Okay..."

He continues to stroke your hair while you quietly sob, humming a lullaby to 'help' you sleep with a satisfied smile on his face.

Robin doesn't acknowledge what happened again, like it never occurred in the first place.

#degrees of lewdity #dol #dol robin #cw noncon #tw noncon #dol pc #okay now that i let this out of my system #i go study now #robin the orphan #cw somnophilia

[volklana]

Sihtric's Whore

Request: how about in season 3 when Sihtric 'betrays' Uhtred to go and spy on the danes, you try to stop him from taking the captives and then in the morning even though he doesn't mean it Uhtred scolds you in front of everyone for just 'letting him go'

Warning: Use of the word whore in a derogatory manner.

My very first time writing for this character I hope I did him justice.

Requests are open.

Sihtric was becoming more solemn with each sip, an uneasy expression crossing his face.

One you were not used to seeing, one that made you, in turn, uneasy.

Finan was barely able to stay awake, head propped up on his hand and you were yearning for Uhtred to finally release you all so you could away to bed. 

Having checked on Osferth already, your eyes were heavy and your heart was weary, you would never admit to another soul that you had cried tears beside the sleeping baby monk earlier, death had come a little too close for your liking and until Skade had lifted her curse, you were afraid for your friends that it’s boney arms would try to snatch another one of them away before their time.  

You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Uhtred approached your table. 

You watched in horror as the arguing began between Uhtred and Sihtric, reaching out a hand to stay Sihtric and shrinking when he swatted it away, as Uhtred got up to leave.

“Sihtric, you are drunk and tired,” Finan hissed and you silently urged Sihtric with your eyes not to continue down this path.

You were both equally horrified when Uhtred swung back around, informing Sihtric he was welcome to leave if he was unhappy in his service.

You and Finan were out of your seats quicker than the blink of an eye when Sihtric rounded on Unthred, raising his voice “I have fought for you!”

“Sihtric please, please don’t do this,” you pleaded, hands on his chest attempting to push him back towards his seat and he swung wildly free from your grasp with a snarl. 

You turned, silently pleading with Uhtred when he spat “Stay or go I do not care,” you could not hide the hurt that etched across your face. 

“He does not mean that. He does care.” Finan tried to appease, urging everyone to sit back down. 

“If you wish to make the square Uhtred of Bebbanburgh, let us do it.”

“No,” you and Finan cried out in unison “There will be no squares made, no fighting, just sleep!” Finan pleaded. 

After Uhtred’s threat to kill Sihtric if he was still here in the morning you heard your blood pound in your ears. 

You scurried after Uhtred, catching him just as he made it outside.

“Uhtred,” you called but he made no reply “Lord,” you cried out this time more urgent and when he finally turned to face you, you could see the venom in his eyes.

“You can’t mean it, please?” 

“Every word,” he spat “And if that displeases you little one, you may follow.” 

You shrank back from him eyes stinging at the betrayal and burst your way back into the tavern. 

You took a seat beside a defeated Finan. Sihtric was refusing to face either of you. Turning his attention instead to the Danes. You grasped at Finan’s hand a silent plea to reassure you that everything was going to be okay, and he shook his head, eyes softening when he took in your huge, worried ones staring back. He couldn’t reassure you, because he couldn’t even reassure himself. 

You were sitting by Osferth’s side, sleep had long evaded you with the worry pitting in your stomach and for the first time in your life you prayed to the gods that morning would not come, your only hope at preventing the inevitable fall out from this night.

You saw the flicker of shadows and the muffled sound of steps pass Osferth’s window and realised with a start that the Danes were escaping and grabbing your sword you set off in pursuit, you arrived just as Sihtric was about to mount his horse.

“Sihtric,” you cried out in disbelief “What is this?” You demanded, angrily holding the sword up to his chest, whilst the rest of the Danes looked on.

You watched as his expression hardened “I am leaving, as has been commanded,” he spat.

“You began this course, Sihtric. I begged you. As I am begging you now. Please do not do this.” 

“It is done,” he said with a finality, eyes softening only for a second when he registered the tears in your eyes.

“Put down the sword, y/n,” he urged, grasping your weapon by the blade and easing it down, “We both know you will not harm me. I leave tonight, come with me if you wish. You know I will care for you and keep you safe but I will offer this only once.”

“You know I can’t,” you cried begging him with your eyes “Please stay here. With me,”

“You know I can’t,” he countered softly, before his eyes hardened again, “Stay with Uhtred or come with me. Make your decision now and make it quick.”

You shook your head as tears freely slipped down your face and he nodded with a snarl, before turning and mounting his horse “And so you have made it, as I have made mine,” he kicked his horse into action and you watched in horror as the Danes did the same, leaving you amidst the chaos of hooves and dust. 

Finan burst into your room at first light and one look at your disheveled appearance told him everything he needed to know.

“I couldn’t stop him,” you cried into his chest “He wouldn’t stay.” 

“Hush now, it’s alright,” the Irish man soothed rubbing patterns onto your back “You’re alright. I’ve got ya.”

Osferth was well enough to make it to the Alehouse and was delighting in having you and Finan fetch him anything he needed, namely ale. 

Silence descended when Uhtred returned back, as he and Finan embraced and he informed him Sihtric was gone, you watched in silence as he embraced Osferth and then his eyes like lightning found yours, and you quickly turned your gaze to the floor. 

“I tried to stop him lord,” was all you could mutter.

“You let him escape,” he answered back quickly “And the prisoners,”

“Yes, lord,” you confirmed and he made a tutting noise, followed by a long sigh.

“She was one girl against a band of Danes,” Osferth argued on your behalf 

“She was one girl, in love with one Dane,” Uhtred fired back and you felt your body light on fire with shame amidst the laughter that broke out among the men.

Your voice shook as you wrung your hands together “But I chose you, and I won’t fail you again lord,” 

Uhtred softened at this, his expression melting, and he nodded your way with a soft, reassuring smile before he pulled you into a quick embrace. 

“It is done, little one,” he whispered affectionately and you felt the weight of seven worlds fall off your shoulders. 

Sihtric’s betrayal, the men and Osferth to your horror were calling it. As though Uhtred was the Christian nailed god, and Sihtric were Judas, you knew thirty pieces of silver had not been exchanged but maybe that would have made his desertion somewhat more understandable than a few heated words. But if Uhtred was Christ and Sihtric was Judas, you had become Mary Magdalene, the whore of the story. Sihtric’s whore to be precise, that’s what some of the men had taken to sneering at you, and one even spat as you were readying your horse to ride to the Dane camp alongside Uhtred, “Sihtric’s whore.”

You hunkered down in the overgrowth amongst the men watching the Dane camp, heart hammering in your chest. You knew Sihtric was within the camp and you knew that there would be no hesitation to kill him from the group of men you lay beside. You had tried to convince yourself that you would be able to hurt him if it came to it, but you knew deep down you would rather run the blade through yourself than harm him. Even after it all. Even now.

It was Finan who had sat beside you last night, your eyes tired and face gaunt and he bumped your shoulder in his merry way before taking your hand in his. Sometimes you thought Finan was the only one who truly saw how much you were suffering Sihtric’s loss.

Truth be told he had been teasing Sihtric for months about you, any man would have to be blind to not see the way Sihtric looked at you. He was your shadow ever since the day you joined the group. Always by your side, always prepared to help you up or down from your horse. He never returned with a mug of ale for himself, without one for you too.He always strategically set your tent up closer to the fire, sneaking you more furs and food rations when he thought you weren’t looking.

Finan had been sure the Dane was smitten by you, and he watched your regard for the Dane grow by the day. You tended all his wounds with tender hands and you oftentimes braided his hair, humming softly to yourself as your hands worked gently through his soft curls. In the evenings of merriment, he would watch your body lean almost subconsciously towards Sihtric and your eyes, half-hooded, always seemed to be memorizing his face when he wasn’t looking at you.

“You know he’s going to be there,” he murmured softly and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“I know,” you sniffed resolutely, “I’ve made my peace with it, and should the moment arise I am prepared.”

Finan squeezed your hand again once for good measure and left you with your mug of ale.

“Someone’s coming!” Finan shushed and a hush ran through your camp. 

“It is Sihtric,” Osferth gasped and you felt your stomach drop to your toes. 

“You have something to say to me boy?” Uhtred demanded and Sihtric approached further, steely determination across the features you knew so well. 

“Yield to me,” he commanded and pressed his sword towards Uhtred’s chest, you were sprung like a coil ready to unleash if needed you watched Finan do the same. You were reminded of that night in the alehouse when you and Finan had acted in unison to try to prevent this. 

You watched in horror as Uhtred and Sihtric erupted into laughter and moved to embrace each other, amidst Osferth’s joyful announcing that they had been playing you all. 

“I fooled you,” Sihtric beamed to Finan who was almost stuttering in disbelief claiming to have known it was all a jest all along. Finan, Osferth and Sihtric took their turns embracing each other but you were rooted to the spot. You felt the world spinning like you were going to be sick and you pushed yourself through the men until you breached the last line and you were spilling your guts out onto the forest floor. 

A pair of mismatched eyes searched the crowd for you, his face scrunching when he was unable to find you, and then turned his attention back to Uhtred as they formulated their plan for the night.

“You’ve never failed me Sihtric, I will see you at the tree,” you heard Uhtred utter proudly and then your legs gave way.

It was Finan who found you trembling at the back of the pack,“Good jaysus,” he mumbled before hoisting you up and patting you down before Uhted called him away. There would be time to sort this all out once this night had passed. 

You followed through the long grass, fleeing to the ships following Sihtric’s lead. Uhtred had secured Skade and you were being pursued by Haeston’s Danes. You cut down any Dane who stood between you and the ship, jumping with ease and landing into strong arms that pulled you to the safety within, you punched at Sihtric's chest urging him to let go and were glad when he relented, turning instead to steady the men who were fleeing onboard. You pulled with all your might under Finan’s shouted orders, boring daggers into the back of the man you loved sitting in front of you. 

Osferth was too weak too row and your arms were screaming with pain, having rowed through the night. The oars were beginning to blister your hands but you refused to give in.

Sihtric had tried to sneak glances over his shoulder at you but you refused to meet his eye. Instead turning all your anger and wasted worry into ensuring you kept rowing.

Your aching body was relieved to finally moor in Coccham, swatting Sihtric’s hand away as he attempted to help you from the boat.

“Please, y’n,” he muttered, trying to to meet your eye, but relented when you pushed by him, icy anger in your veins. 

As you began the ride back to Winchester you were solemn. You had barely spoken a word to anyone and Finan regarded you with worry across his features.

“You could have told her,” Finan swiped at Sihtric, “Of all of us, you could have told her.”

“How could I?” Sihtric sighed, running a tired hand across his face.

“You didn’t see the way the men treated her for allowing you to escape.” 

Sihtric froze, eyes wild, urging Finan to continue.

“They called her whore Sihtric. Your whore. They thought she had betrayed Uhted and she thought she had too. She barely ate or slept, and now you turn up and all is forgiven, But she has endured the brunt of yours and Uhtred’s decisions.” 

Sihtric watched you ride wearily, he could see the defeat in the way you held yourself and he wanted nothing more than to take back all the hurt he had caused you, but he startled at the thought that you might not let him.

In Winchester you all settled in the alehouse, the lodgings above adequate enough for the rest you needed, You barely picked at the stew you were given and Finan took the spot beside you.

“Lady,” he sighed “You need to eat, come on, even just a few spoonfuls more.”

You shook your head and he grabbed the spoon, diving it into the food and bringing it up towards your mouth “Come ooon,” he urged “Look how delicious this is, open up that pretty mouth of yours and take a bite.” You couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped your lips when he all but shoved the spoon into your mouth and he quickly chased it with another.

“Finan, you are feeding me like a mother feeds a babe,” you giggled, the first time he had heard that sound in weeks.

“Well be and good babe, and take another bite, and I will stop mothering you.” 

You swiped your spoon back and finished off the rest of your bowl.

“Happy, mother hen?” you teased and he wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Happy,” he conceded.

“Finan,” you sighed and he hummed and you scooted up in your seat to rest your body against his, taking the hint he wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your head, pulling you closer.

“You were the only one who stood by me. You stopped me from falling apart.” 

“Nothing you haven’t done for me a thousand times over, love.” he all but whispered into your hair. 

Someone clearing their throat pulled your attention away from Finan’s warmth and you were shocked to see a rather meek looking Sihtric standing at the table, a bunch of flowers in hand.

“Can I talk with you lady? Please?” he begged.

Finan gave you a reassuring tap and slid away from you.

“Outside?” he begged again.

And even though you didn’t want to, your feet were moving of their own accord.

You walked a little in silence together and eventually you realised you were going to have to make the first move. 

“Sihtric, can you please just say whatever it is you wish to say to me, I am cold and I am tired.”

It was like he was burned into action, shrinking off his cloak and wrapping it around your shoulders before you could protest, and he all but pressed the flowers into your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently “I am sorry for leaving you. For allowing all the blame to be placed upon your shoulders and I am sorry for demanding you choose between Uhtred and I.” 

“Why did you do it?” you pleaded and he wanted to drop to his knees before you.

“I hoped..I hoped you would choose me. I would have confessed it all to you if you had come. But I understand why you could not.” 

“They called me your whore Sihtric,” you cried, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes, “And now you press these flowers into my hand and you say you are sorry but I have come to realise that maybe..maybe my regard for you is stronger than yours for me and I am no longer willing to be Sihtric’s whore.” 

The name was especially unfair, when you considered you had never so much as pressed your lips to Sihtric’s, let alone lay with him. 

“You are no whore,” Sihtric spat, sinking to his knees in front of you, “But I am a fool, that is true. A coward who should have told you long before this day that you are the light of my life. Ever since the day we met I have loved you and if you think I do not regard you in the highest form possible, you are wrong.”

You bit at your lip, allowing the tears to fall freely now.

“I have asked for Uhtred’s permission, and now I ask for yours, forget the name Sihtric’s whore and become Sihtric’s wife. Let me never leave you in doubt of my devotion to you again. Let me worship you. Let me be loyal to you. Let me fight for you. Let me love you.” 

He moved closer to you on his knees, grasping your hips in his hands resting his head against your stomach “Let us raise pups who look like me but have all the best of you. Let me love you.” he repeated “Be my wife.” 

“You hurt me, Sihtric.” you all but whimpered, but already your free hand was tracing the scar across his face tenderly all resolve melting.

“I hurt you this once my love and I will never, ever hurt you again. On Thor’s hammer,” he grasped at the pendant he wore around his neck and his two mismatched eyes bore up into your own.

“Be my wife.” he pleaded again.

“Sihtric’s wife,” you repeated and you were nodding furiously “Yes, yes Sihtric I will be your wife.”

He rose up furiously to crush his lips against yours, pulling you off your feet as he swung you around, the flowers falling from your grasp as you laughed through the tears.

“You are really mine?” you cried cupping his grinning face in your hands.

“From the moment I met you, I have been yours.” 

Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @canyonmoon-2

#sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #sihtric x you

[xaeoism]

Muichiro tries to talk to you once more Part 1 Part 3

At every hashira meeting, you would always try to pretend as if muichiro was never there even though you could feel his gaze boring holes in your side. All the other hashiras could tell that something had transpired between the two of you. You used to sit next to him all the time but now, you sat as far away as you could from him and whenever the meeting ended, you left for your estate immediately, not wanting to entertain the possibility of you and him talking.

However, you would be lying if you said you didn't care about him one bit. Sometimes you just couldn't help but steal a glance at him. You have definitely noticed some changes - he looked more disheveled every passing day and now looked as if he was in his own world the whole time.

Hell, there was even a time when he didn't respond when the master called his name.

Ever since that, all the other hashiras started to get more concerned about muichiro.

On the other hand, although you felt a little guilty for leaving him in such a state, you mostly couldn't care less since it was his fault to begin with.

You and the other hashiras bowed down, bidding the master farewell. Another meeting had just ended and you stood up, preparing to leave before you heard someone speak.

"Tokito, would you like to come over to the Butterfly Mansion for a check-up?", Shinobu asked sweetly.

You turned around, his name catching your attention and you saw him still in bowing position, looking down at the ground. You wondered if he was truly alright.

Suddenly, he turned towards your direction as if he could feel your presence staring down at him. Both your eyes met but your head snapped to the opposite direction, breaking the contact immediately. You quickly walked off, not wanting to stay there any longer.

You were just making some tea when a knock came from your door. You set the teapot down and went to open it. As soon as you looked at the person who knocked on your door, you instantly tried to shut the door. However, he quickly slid his shoe between your door to stop it from closing. Muichiro then held the door frame and started to open the door. You looked at him dumbfoundedly as he barged into your home.

"What do you think you're doing?", you questioned.

"We need to talk... please."

Talk? He wants to talk? What's there to talk about?

"No.", you replied sternly, looking up at him.

His eyes were slightly puffy, hinting that he had just cried before appearing at your door. His hair was unkempt and he looked extremely exhausted.

"Please, please.. let me explain.", he said, his words getting softer and softer every single time.

The anger and betrayal you felt from that day started to bubble up within the depths of your stomach, slowly building up as the conversation kept going.

"Did you not hear what I said? Are you deaf?", you said with a laugh of disbelief.

"She was just there for training. Please trust me on this. I would never lie to you.", he continued, outright ignoring you. You rolled your eyes, looking away from him to try and tame your anger that was threatening to spill out.

"Get. Out.", you said through your teeth. He looked at you, clearly hurt by your words. You glared back at him, the fire burning brightly in your eyes slightly flickering. You tried to ignore how your heart ached at the sight of him suffering. If only you could act out what your heart truly desired, to hug him and kiss him once more.

"What are you doing? I said get out! Get out! GET OUT!", you shouted, your voice cracking between your words as you pointed towards the door. Tears were forming in your eyes as the emotions you tried to control started to rise up to the surface.

"I..", he started off, about to take another step towards you when he looked at you and stopped. Something in your eyes was just telling him, pleading him to leave, to give you some time to make your decision on whether or not you want to hear his reasons. He closed his eyes and started to turn around and head for your door.

He stood outside, taking one last glance at you to which you returned. You then slowly closed your door and sat against it, trying to take in all that had happened. Your heart was pounding loudly against your ribcage and so many emotions were swirling around your head. Unable to handle everything at that moment, you began to cry. Tears started falling down from your face as you tried to get all the emotions out of your system.

You'll need to have a clearer headspace if you choose to listen to his words next time.

A few days later, a letter from the master was presented to you by your crow. You and another hashira were to head over to a village to kill a ranked demon. You got prepared and opened your door, praying to all gods that the other hashira wasn't him.

However, you found a pair of teal eyes looking straight into yours the moment your door was opened. Your heart sunk.

"Hey, I-"

"Enough. Let's get this over with."

#muichiro #muichiro tokito #muichiro x reader #muichiro x you #kimetsu muichiro #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x y/n #kny muichiro #kny #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #mist hashira #mist hashira x reader #tokito muichiro x reader #tokitoumuichirou #muichirou #hashira x reader #hashira x y/n #hashira

[sydsaint]

He might be an evil backstabber. But damn he sexy. <3

Summary: The reader is backstage when Carmelo finally reveals his true feelings about his so-called best friend, Trick Williams. The reader is appalled by his behavior. But Carmelo isn't about to let the best thang in his life just up and leave him without a fight.

You're standing backstage with an exhausted Roxanne Perez after she lost her title match against Lyra. You feel bad that Roxy lost the way that she did, but she asked you before the match even began not to interfere.

"I'm sorry you lost, Roxy." You offer her a comforting hug.

"Thanks, YN." Roxanne hugs you tightly. "You aren't going out there with Trick and Melo either?" She asks you.

You shake your head and let Roxy free of your crushing hug. "Nah, those two can handle Ilja." You wave your hand. "I'd only get in the way. And Trick deserves the spotlight tonight."

Roxanne nods in agreement and the two of you chat about her match for a few minutes. You are making a suggestion that you and Roxanne find Lola and exact some revenge when you see her face warp into one of shock and confusion.

"Roxy?" You catch her attention. "What's wrong?" You ask her.

"What the hell is Carmelo doing?" Roxanne points behind you at the monitor on the wall.

You turn around in confusion and look at the action in the monitor and your jaw drops. Trick and Carmelo are both in the ring after Trick's loss to Ilja. But Carmelo doesn't look like he's there to console his friend. No. You'd recognize that look of ill-intent plastered on your boyfriends face anywhere.

"Carmelo, no." You gasp as Melo takes Trick out in the middle of the ring. "Oh my god."

"You should go out there and do something!" Roxanne pops back up at your side.

You nod and take off for the ring. You run down the ramp and slip into the ring just as Carmelo is leaving. You lock eyes with Melo and stare at him in disbelief.

"Don't look at me like that." Carmelo stares down at you. "Come on. I don't need those doe eyes looking at me like that." He huffs.

"What did you do?" You reply in a hushed and hurt tone.

Carmelo lingers for a moment, almost like he's regretting his decision. "What I had to do. So don't act like I hurt you. This ain't got nothing to do with you, YN." He insists, like it'll somehow make the situation better.

You find the will to move and slip into the ring to help Trick. You help Trick up off the matt and Carmelo retreats backstage. You help Trick back to the trainers room and console him about Carmelo's betrayal.

"Did you know?" Trick looks at you with a hurt look. But you can't blame him for being distrustful of you right now.

"Of course I didn't, Trick." You assure him. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea." You shake your head, stilling having trouble coming to terms with everything yourself.

You hang around the trainers room for a while with Trick. But you know that eventually you'll have to head back to the hotel and confront your boyfriend. Trick assures you that he'll be alright and that you should go. A part of you doesn't want to leave his side, but you can understand Trick wanting some alone time.

You reluctantly head back to the hotel and go up to your room. When you get there Carmelo is waiting for you. You lock eyes with him sitting in a chair off to the side of the dim-lit room. Your nose scrunches into a sneer as you slam the door and stomp past Carmelo to the bathroom.

"Oh, so it's going to be like that then?" Carmelo snarks as you walk past him.

You stop in the doorway of the bathroom and turn around sharply on your heels. Carmelo is out of his seat now and on his feet.

"Don't even start with me you traitor!" You shout at Carmelo in an attempt to keep yourself from crying.

"So don't come in here ignoring me!" Carmelo raises his voice back at you. "What? You don't want to talk about what happened at all?" He scoffs.

You glare at Carmelo and jab a finger at his chest. "Talk about what? You throwing away a perfectly good friendship? And for what? Your damn ego?" You confront him. "God! Why, Carmelo? Why in the fuck would you do that?"

"Why are you so damn upset about it?" Carmelo shouts back at you. "It ain't like you n Trick were ever that close." He reminds you. "God, YN!" He huffs. "What do you want me to do? Leave?"

"Maybe you should." You reply in a quieter tone.

The angry look on Carmelo's face softens at your reply. His frustration starts to fade and he realizes who he's standing here yelling at right now.

"YN, baby." Melo takes a step forward with an outstretched hand. "Come on, you know I love you."

"You've said the same thing to Trick." You knock his hand away from you coldly.

Carmelo takes a deep breath. He didn't mean for any of this shit with Trick to involve you. He honestly didn't think it would upset you like it has. You and Trick are friends sure. But for you to be this upset about it?

"Do you really want me to leave?" Melo asks you softly. "Look at me then. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me to leave then I'll go. But you have to look at me." He insists.

You pick your gaze up from the floor and look Carmelo in the eyes. The two of you stare at one another for a moment, but you can't bring yourself to actually tell him to leave.

"I hate you." You sniffle and break your gaze.

"No you don't." Carmelo sighs and steps forward to pull you into a hug. "Look baby, I'm sorry I yelled, okay? And I'm sorry you're taking this so hard." He apologizes. "But I'm your ride or die, you know that. I need you."

#wwe x reader #nxt x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wwe fic #carmelo hayes #carmelo hayes x reader #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #wrestling #wwe #nxt fanfiction #nxt #syd's wrestling fics

[hiraya-rawr]

so i betrayed you, my love– (3/5)

Xiao Version || Childe Version || Thoma Version || Gorou Version || Ayato Version

synopsis !! Part 2 of “You Were The Enemy All Along” featuring the aftermath of betrayal and confrontation, with more depth to their stories! (Part 1 of each character was also included to make reading convenient.)

contains !! some character lore spoilers / a little violence / dialogue heavy in some scenes / reconciliation but also complicated relationships mending together / cameos of other characters! / might be easier to understand if you knew the lore of the characters 

notes !! This was commissioned by the wonderful @mh8 who allowed this to be posted in public for everyone to enjoy! thoma's part was written on a plane and during my exams, so i hope the mood isn't too chaotic.

THOMA

wc !! 1.6k

Stares at you in disbelief before trying to make sense of the situation; were you forced? Why were you doing this? are you in need of help? Even with how obvious your betrayal is, he begs you for an answer, desperately looking for any excuse.

"You know I'll take your side if you could just– tell me why," It's a plea from his lips. Even when you bring out your own weapon, he hesitates to fight you. He'll only do so in self-defense, blocking every fatal blow you throw at him but he's too distracted with the way his heart aches that you actually hurt him for real.

Even with an injury, he can't bring himself to use his vision against you. Ayato has to intervene, quickly coming to his aide and once you're gone and away, Thoma sits there feeling lost. The healers tend to him and he doesn't even flinch at their ministrations, eyes staring distantly at where you last were.

He thinks of you often.

No matter how much he tells Ayato and Ayaka that he's fine, that it's over with, and that he's gradually forgetting you ever left a mark in his life— he still thinks of you often. It's in passing moments and every close of his eyes, he sees you and remembers— not just your betrayal, but everything. You and him laughing, you and him doing chores, you and him carrying out classified missions at the dead of the night (missions you would eventually relay to an informant, who would then relay it to Watatsumi’s army. You traitor, you traitor, you traitor—).

“How is your injury, Thoma?” Ayato breaks him from his trance. This isn't good, he's thinking about you again. Sometimes he wonders if he could deal with this better had he been more sound of mind; less sensitive, less attached, more tough. If you were here, you’d scold him and say that he's amazing just the way he i— again! You on his mind!

“Thoma?” Ayato repeats.

“It's getting better, Waka. It doesn't even bother me when I do my chores!” He plays off and -as if to prove himself- he rolls his left shoulder in little circles, ignoring the tinge of pain it sends.

“Hmm. . . alright. I’d still rather you stop doing chores altogether and wait for a full recovery but I’ll trust your judgment.” Ayato sighs. No, it isn't that he trusts Thoma’s judgment— heck! Thoma would do chores even if the injuries made it impossible. The only reason Ayato and Ayaka agreed for him to continue working would be because he –with all the shame in the world– acted like a lost man. Recovering from his injuries meant sitting still, sitting still meant looking up at his bedroom ceiling, watching out the window, thinking.

~

“What if we decorate your ceiling?” You once asked, leaning on his chest as he gently strokes your head. It was an exhausting day which led to a calm night of cuddling. Simply basking in each other’s presence.

“Why would we do that? What would you even add to it?” He asks nonchalantly, almost humming.

“It’ll make nights like these more interesting. More things to see when we lie down together.”

~

Thoughts. It's you again. This happens every time he stops working, every time he gives himself a minute to think, you slip inside his mental barriers and try to break him down all over again.

He wonders when did he lose you. Was it the day he found out? The day you first met? Or perhaps, he never had you to lose you in the first place.

It was the beginning of the cracks; Watatsumi and Narukami, head to head with growing tensions. Nothing was clear about the situation, just that news of Watatsumi rebelling against the newly placed decrees turned the relationship between the two islands to turn sour. Kokomi, who always planned ahead for every “what if” scenario, placed you exactly for the likelihood of unexpected tension. You took the job believing you could foster peace. It was every hero's idealized dream— with you disseminating information to the army, perhaps this little rebellion could end without worries. 

But like cracks on the walls, you underestimated how much it would spread— and how terribly violent it turned out to be. Soon enough, people were dying, committing war crimes, civil feuds. The information you sent became a matter of life or death.

Death to Thoma’s side, Life to yours. Until—

“We're working with the Watatsumi army?!” Thoma exclaims, hand on the table as he looks at Ayato, baffled. “But– the Shogun! The Sakoku decree! The guards!” And you. Your name is on the tip of his tongue and it almost slips out. There's you and how you turned your back on them (on him). How could he just bury that? No way could Ayato have forgotten!

“I understand where you're coming from, Thoma, but this was a decision made after much consideration. Ayaka is already aware of it and even contributed to forming an alliance. Besides,” Ayato pauses to look at Thoma, almost deliberating whether he should say it or not, “We should not forget. . . Kazuha. Our families have been allies for generations.”

Thoma knows the name that Ayato was supposed to say to convince him, but he's a time bomb and even the young commissioner is unsure whether your name could bring good weather or cause a storm in Thoma.

So he relented, “. . . Yes, Waka.”

It's odd to transition from thinking about your betrayal in every waking moment to thinking about this. . . alliance. Regardless of the Yashiro Commission’s silent support, it doesn't change the fact that they stood on a fence, waiting for the best benefits. You betrayed them and that was that.

Breaking your loyalty was one thing. Never having any sort of loyalty to them was another.

It was unforgivable.

~

It's been a while since the fall of the vision hunt decree and the opening of borders; A month since the start of peace talks and trade relations. You've grown used to attending the long meetings, mostly fueled by tension and backhanded insults, each side wishing to reap as much benefits from the other as possible. However, this was the first meeting you get to attend in Narukami Island. Kokomi and Gorou insisted on needing your knowledge of the area and it proved useful for navigating and discussion.

While you were proud to be included, the role you played was insignificant enough to escape to the courtyard without notice. It was exhausting to even breathe the same air as those politicians in that room.

~

He sees you first before you see him. Dressed in his retainer uniform, it seemed like he dropped Ayato off at the front before taking a stroll through the intricate courtyard.

He sees you first and his heart clenches. Ayato once told him disloyalty was unforgivable and he repeated it like a mantra in hopes of learning to hate you.

He sees you first and you see him second but the world stops all the same– fluttering butterflies and falling petals don't exist in the space you've both made as your eyes met, the world froze over.

You looked terrified, if not drowning in your own guilt. Yes, you worked for a good cause, but that didn't change how you used them. What would he say? How will he say it? Your mind runs on anxiety as you replay all the times you broke his trust (his trust, Thoma’s trust! How could you do that to someone so kind? So loving?). Will he call you a traitor? Ask you brokenly why you did what you did? Coldly look away from you? (You don't think you could take it if he turns the other way. Please don't turn the other way).

His steps rush towards you, hurried and face void and indescribable. 

Do you hate me now, Thoma? You think as anxiety spikes up, your feet frozen in place. ‘Will you scream? Demand why I’m here? Ask why I did it?’

At the last moment, right when you readied yourself for the inevitable, his arms reach out to you instead.  An embrace that encompasses warmth, as genuine as his pyro vision. You can't help the violent flinch at his touch but he doesn't let go, reassuring. It was simply an embrace. 

“I missed you,” He whispers when you didn't think he'd say anything, his grip tightening, “So much.”

And the floodgates begin. It's nonstop, the way your tears stream down your cheeks as if you've been holding back all this time. You grieved when you lost him. It's guilt that builds in you; climbing from your stomach to your throat to the tip of your tongue. Guilt desperately tries to escape you in words, and it does—

“I’m sorry, Thoma,” You cry, gripping onto him with equal desperation, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” You repeat like a mantra, “Archons, I’m so sorry, Thoma, I’m sorry I had to-”

He shushes you softly, cupping the back of your head to his neck. Comfort. “It's okay, I know, I know, I understand why you had to–”

“No, no,” You sob, shaking in refusal. Don't give me kindness now, you think, how dare you be so understanding? So sweet? “No, I hurt you. I hurt all of you and I’m really so, so sorry, Thoma–”

He falls silent, only resorting to gently rubbing your back with his hand, the other hand unable to release its grip on you. You're here now, you're back to him.

How could you ever deserve someone like him? Curse his empathy, his quiet forgiveness, how could he be so kind when you've beaten yourself up over and over for what you've done and how you've hurt him?

“I. . . know there's a lot we have to talk about. And a lot of things happened,” He starts clumsily, holding the back of your head to the crook of his neck in comfort. “But it's okay,” There's a lump in his throat which he tries to hide, ���We’ll figure it all out. We have time.”

~

“And here I thought you despised disloyalty.” Yae Miko raises an eyebrow at the blue haired male as she looks away from the courtyard. They sat in the upper tearoom, the warm light contrasting the cool moonlight outside.

Ayato merely hums as he sips his tea, “I’m not as shallow as to disconsider the context. At the end of the day, Thoma is quite dear to me. I wouldn’t have planned this meeting otherwise.”

+ + +

thoma // honestly hard to write for because i was so stuck on imagining him mad, i completely forgot that thoma is capable of forgiving everything bc he’s selfless that way. He might run from his problems tho, which is why ayato makes such a good partner, helping him put everything together hnfjegni

#thoma #thoma x reader #genshin thoma #genshin thoma x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #genshin angst/comfort #thoma x you #genshin impact fanfic

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Friday: untitled Jak oneshot/ Daxter Snaps And It Doesn't Go Well

(This takes place right after Jak finally gets to return to Spargus in Jak 3, because I had some Feelings about the Dark Eco Oracle and its well-loved shrine having been either moved or destroyed in Haven. Also for reference: since the original Jak concept art was a cat/foxlike alien child, hence the ears being set so high on his head in TPL, I'm hereby deciding that their species can purr. Because I said so.)

This is Quite Long, so I'll probably crosspost to AO3 later.

TW: panic attack

Jak hadn't been surprised by the summons when he'd returned from Haven. He knew he was in for it. Damas had started trusting him with more and more responsibilities and then Jak had screwed it all up. Running off to Haven and then getting stuck there immediately after? Not a good look.

Honestly, Jak was just grateful he wasn't being "escorted" up by city guards.

Part of him wanted to go in fighting. That's all Damas cares about, right? a small, bitter corner of his heart muttered.

The rest of him was too afraid. He finally knew better than to look to anyone in Haven for affirmation or examples. Damas had been the closest he'd ever come to an authority figure he trusted. What if he lost that, too?

The second his and Daxter's heads were visible in the elevator shaft, Damas was already raising his voice. Perhaps he was simply projecting his voice to reach them, but Jak's stomach twisted into knots regardless, and his breathing became quick and shallow.

"Where have you been?" Damas demanded, rising from his throne. "It's been a month!"

The elevator locked, and Jak crept out onto the pathway like a skittish animal. He didn't meet Damas’s eyes. The confused anger and hurt he'd seen in them the last time flashed in his memory, and he winced. An oppressive silence fell for a few unnaturally long seconds, punctuated by the creak of the water wheel. Damas was waiting for an answer.

It's not our fault, Jak tried to reassure himself, Just another betrayal. We didn't do anything wrong.

When he didn't answer Damas, the king’s expression twisted between outrage and disbelief and-

And disappointment.

"Nothing? Really, Jak?" He took one step down from the dais, clenching his fist at his side. "Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?"

Daxter took it upon himself to answer when Jak wouldn't -- or couldn't.

"Oh lay off!" he hissed, puffing himself up to look bigger, "Don't you have friends to kill in your gladiator ring?"

"Dax!" Jak gasped. Too late.

The words were already out and a black look fell across Damas’s face. His entire posture went rigid.

"Excuse me?" he asked in a frightful facsimile of calm.

"Daxter, don't," Jak pleaded, but it was far too late for that. When Daxter got this mad, he didn't even hear Jak.

"You heard me!"

Daxter leapt off Jak's shoulder and stood on the first stepping stone as if blocking the way between them.

"You tried to make us kill one of our only real friends, and threw a tantrum when we wouldn't! And if you think I'd trust you with Jak's location after that, those spikes must be diggin' into your brain!"

Jak couldn't breathe.

Either Damas was going to cut them off, or Daxter was going to get hurt, and either way everything was going to crumble. He'd finally escaped Haven and there was going to be nothing to escape to.

His core pulsed, obeying signals he didn't even know his brain was sending. It tried to respond to the fight-or-flight instincts quickening his pulse and shortening his breath. In Haven, he would have gone Dark in response. But he'd used all the dark eco. There was nothing left. Nothing but adrenaline and panic.

A strange, almost echoing sensation pushed at the inside of his skull, and the room spun. He couldn't breathe. His lungs felt like they'd been fused shut. He couldn't breathe!

"Jak!"

Between blurs of brown and green, Damas -- or an unfocused and staticy version of him -- approached rapidly.

As if from another room, Jak heard Daxter snarl, "Stay back! If you hurt him, I'll rip your spikes out!"

"I wouldn't hurt him!"

"You already did!"

It was too much. He couldn't- he couldn't focus. He couldn't find the light eco. Jak's knees gave, and it was a struggle to stay upright. Hands caught his upper arms, preventing him from collapsing entirely.

"Breathe, Jak!"

Damas sounded worried this time.

"You have to breathe!"

"Can't-!" Jak gasped, breath squeaking.

Then the world turned sideways and he was in the water. Or partly in the water.

His legs twitched with the shock of the new sensation, surprising him enough to suck in a deep breath. A compressing sensation against his chest and arms tightened in response.

"Focus on the water. Find your feet."

It took four tries to get his boots on the rocky bottom of the pool. His chest hurt, but he managed another deep breath.

"That's it. You can do this."

A small hand took his, pulling against the pressure around his shoulders, and pressed it against a narrow chest.

"L- like we practiced, bud-"

Oh. There's Daxter.

"Just breathe when I breathe, remember?"

Distantly, he heard Damas ask Daxter, "Has this happened before? In- in Spargus, I mean."

"Don't think about it, warrior," the other voice encouraged -- Damas? Is that Damas? But he's mad at us! -- "Just do as your friend does."

"If Jak wants to tell ya, he'll tell ya," Daxter said sourly. "You and I are not on speaking terms right now."

"...that is understandable."

One by one, his muscles relaxed. His breathing was much too fast, but it was easier to get full breaths at least.

When the ringing in Jak’s ears at last began to subside, he picked up a new sound. It was faint, barely audible at all, but he could just make out a nervous rumble. A laryngeal vibration he could feel through the back of his shirt. With conscious thought on standby mode, Jak's body responded to long-forgotten cues unbidden. His glottis rapidly dilated and constricted with his breathing, creating its own vibrations in a bid to self-soothe. It was how he'd learned not to cry out loud as a young child -- although blessedly, he would never remember that.

It wasn't the first time Damas had walked one of his people through a panic attack in the throne room, and it wouldn't be the last. But this one hurt.

"You're safe. There is no danger here. This is a safe place."

Shame raked its claws down his chest and Pain reached through the incision, grasping at organs and prying bones out of the way.

Jak didn't trust him.

And it was his fault.

"I'm sorry," he whispered- to Jak, to Daxter, to either-

A memory loomed damningly before his eyes. Mar had just started walking, and nearly toppled into the pools. Damas had yelled at him to get away from the edge, and the baby had burst into a loud, terrified wail.

"I'm- was it the shouting? I-"

"I'm sorry, it's okay, it's okay now- I know, I used the Big Voice, Daddy's sorry! You scared me, Bug!"

He hadn't gotten any better after losing Mar, had he? He still shouted when he was afraid. And look how that had turned out.

Damas tightened his hold on Jak and rested his chin on the crown of the boy's head. The apologies were bitter on his tongue, but necessary.

"I...I triggered this, didn't I? I'm sorry- gods, I'm sorry, Jak. I'm- you scared me. I couldn't find you! No one could!"

"You...thought we defected?" he asked through numbed lips.

The panic was slow to fade, still muddling Jak's mind. He couldn't quite make sense of what he was hearing.

"I thought the Marauders had taken you! Or you'd collapsed somewhere in the Wastes where we couldn't find you!" Damas answered. The dregs of that old fear still stained the edges of his voice. He shuddered.

He swallowed hard, interrupting the agitated purring for a moment. "I...did not handle the...situation as I should have. I damaged your trust. And I deserved worse than the silent treatment. I understand that. But to keep it from Sig, too?"

"You can't just run away like that! I- I understand why you didn't tell me-"

Painfully slowly, Jak drew his legs back out of the water and onto the rocks.

"They wouldn't let me," he mumbled. "They didn't let us leave."

Damas shot a concerned look at Daxter, who shrugged and looked away.

Shifting his grip to have one arm around the boy's waist, Damas heaved himself to his feet, taking Jak with him.

This promised to be a very unpleasant conversation, the least he could do was find them somewhere more comfortable to sit.

They were silent for a time, each processing the whirlwind of events. Jak was deeply, thoroughly, confused. No one had ever apologized like that before. Acknowledging his pain and the specific way their actions had caused it? It would be a cold day in hell before Samos ever did anything like that.

He didn't understand.

They'd defied Damas, then run from him. Daxter had just challenged him to his face.

Yet he spoke like a man anxiously awaiting the return of a prodigal son.

"Who wouldn't let you leave, Jak?" Damas asked him, far too gently.

Jak shut his eyes. "Haven."

"Haven?!" Damas sounded horrified. "What were you doing there?! Is that where you've been this whole time?"

Miserably, Jak nodded. "I was just- we were just scouting. Just- it wasn't supposed to be-"

He gritted his teeth.

"They locked down the air trains," he croaked. "And- and there's force fields blocking off the city exits. The only way they'd let us go was if I fought on the frontlines for three weeks first."

Fighting down his anger lest he trigger Jak's panic again, Damas forced himself to ask, "What made you go back to that city in the first place?"

A hostage. His boy- The boy had been a bloody hostage, and he'd had no idea! Damas felt something dark and dense fluttering between his ribs. If he found the person who ordered this, he would drown them in the sands.

Jak winced and passed several looks back and forth with Daxter.

"Ashelin...called me to the oasis," he said at last.

Damas stiffened beside him.

"She want- she wanted me to come back to Haven. After everything they did to me, she wanted me to come back."

He felt the hints of the anxiety returning, and wrapped his arms around himself for comfort.

"Ashelin Praxis?" Damas demanded. He curled his lip. "I might have known. I hope you told her where to shove that offer."

Daxter scoffed. "Oh, he did. Even told her "I have new friends now", which was a little too generous considering what you said to my pal."

Jak gave the ottsel a weary look, and Daxter grudgingly subsided.

"I told her to leave. She- she wouldn't drop it. Said the friends we still had were going to die. That it was my responsibility because of-"

He flipped a hand in the air in frustration.

"I don't know! Dead people I share some common blood with!"

"Pal, I'm pretty sure that common blood stopped bein' responsible for that dump when Princess Scribbleface's darling pappy took over," Daxter grumbled.

"Common blood?!" Damas startled, but Jak had already moved on, hastily trying to explain himself.

"We didn't believe her -- I- I mean, why would we? But when I asked the Oracle in the temple-"

"How did you find the Oracle?!" Damas spluttered.

"The stupid thing called me," Jak growled. He leaned forward and pressed his face into his hands. "Said the whole planet was in danger and my friends would die if I didn't find the catacombs."

He muffled a snarl in his palms.

"I hate them. I hate those rottin' things. They don't tell me when something is a trap. They only tell me what fits their agenda."

Jak could speak to Precursor Oracles.

Only monks were supposed to still be able to do that.

Monks, or Heirs of Mar taking the Trials.

"And...was it a trap?" Damas asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

A painful, wishful image of Jak in the Tomb of Mar wormed through Damas’s thoughts. If life had any semblance of fairness, or restitution, it would have been reality. It was not what he deserved, not after how many times he'd failed the people he cared about. But Jak deserved it. He'd been isolated enough.

Jak's face was like stone.

"All they cared about was getting me into Haven to find the catacombs before that nutcase Veger could. And all Haven cared about was keeping us there."

A deep, ominous creaking filled the room. Harsh shadows stretched and yawned as the terrible old statue beside the dais flickered, then lit up. A suffocating sense of dread filled Damas as he beheld the monolith. It wasn't a real Oracle. It was a shell, made to hold pieces of the water wheel. It wasn't made to have any kind of lights.

Daxter yelped and scurried up to Jak’s shoulder as the water wheel ground to a halt.

The silence was unnatural.

Jak's chest heaved, and Damas feared for a moment that he was going to panic again. But an answering light flickered in the boy's eyes. White, incandescent rage.

"What do you want now? You're not welcome here!" Jak snarled, standing up with a jerk.

"Angry one-"

It said in warning, a rolling, ancient voice that echoed off the stones and twisted in their eardrums.

Jak clenched his fists.

"No! I'm not afraid of you! You're no "holier" than Onin. You aren't even a Precursor!"

A sense of fury shook the room, and the water trembled.

Jak held his ground though his legs shook.

"You can't do anything to punish me," he challenged, angry tears glowing in his eyes. "The worst you can do is withhold information that would protect me, and you do that anyway! If- if you had power at all, you wouldn't have let Veger destroy Crius!"

Crius? Damas vaguely remembered that name. Hadn't he been one of the Bonekeeper's heralds? The memories were fuzzy at best. Father forbade Mother from speaking of the Bonekeeper when they married. Any communing with the patron of dark eco was done in secret, and as a child Damas had only caught her once.

"The dark shrine was all those people had!" the anger was slipping away from Jak now, replaced by something closer to grief. "He gave them hope! He gave- he gave me hope! And you couldn't save him. So what makes you think you can scare me now? Hu'mens are worse than you."

And the Oracle, miraculously, quieted. The waters stilled, and some of the dread receded. Jak fell back to the steps, having exhausted the last reserves of his emotions.

"Yeah! You tell him, Jak!" Daxter cheered, breaking the silence, "About time you put Sparky in his place!"

He ruffled Jak's hair -- the hair he could reach at least -- and leaned against his arm comfortingly.

"Next, we get Loghead!"

The Oracle remained lit, but speechless. All this time, had rebuking the heralds really been an option? Ever the pragmatist, Damas decided to follow Jak's example.

"As the boy said." His voice was quiet at first, but gained courage with each new word.

"This is not a place of seers and soothsayers. Respectfully: we do not require your guidance at this time."

"Heir of Mar-"

the Oracle began, almost wheedling.

Rage loosened his lips and he lost the last shred of reverence he'd held for the messenger.

Jak went rigid and Damas felt an anger of his own. How dare this entity try to leverage his bloodline when the Precursors had turned their backs on him!

"Hold your tongue! Unless you can comprehend the trouble you have caused, keep your counsel to yourself."

Resentfully, the Oracle's eyes flashed.

And with that, the lights were gone. The water wheel resumed its gloomy rhythm. The statue was hollow once more.

"So be it. You wish to hear no truth from me? Then you, Damas of the Wastes, shall hear no truth from me."

Something about the acquiescence -- or threat -- made Damas uneasy. Withholding information again, just as Jak had said. But he had the feeling it was hinting at something important. Taunting him.

Bloody seven hells.

He'd sooner cast the bones himself and call upon the Dark Lady directly as his mother once had than ever deal with that thing again.

"Little wonder you're always so on edge, dealing with that," he said; a poor attempt at a joke.

Jak dropped his face back into his hands.

"I'm so sick of them. Jak do this. Jak go there. Suffer for us, Jak! It's Fate!"

Damas scoffed. "Fate, eh? Wastelanders make their own fate. If this is who my monks consult, it's no surprise that they believe the world is coming to an end."

"They are pretty worried about the creatures in that space ship," Jak admitted reluctantly.

"Bah."

Damas waved it off.

"When the metalheads invaded our world, we survived with or without the Precursors they hunted. We will do the same if these creatures land."

He jostled Jak's shoulder -- shaking Daxter by proxy.

"Ey! No manhandling!"

Daxter slithered away down the steps and into the water. He glared up over the step like a little croc.

"You keep your emotionally constipated hands away from me!"

Damas let out a startled laugh, and Jak shook his head and grinned.

"I...guess you're right. Spargus is pretty tough."

"We are Wastelanders, boy," Damas declared, "We carved out a home in the places where nothing else survives. We'll carve out our fate the same way, with the same tools our ancestors used."

"...with eco," Jak said quietly, as if experiencing a revelation.

"Our minds think alike."

Damas’s wry grin faded.

"Jak...I'm...sorry. That I made you feel you couldn't contact me for help. If I had known you were being held in Haven against your will, I would have come for you."

The boy fixed him with a bewildered expression.

"You would have?" Jak asked, "You're serious. You. Leaving your people to come after me?"

The king met his stare evenly.

"Yes."

"After the- the thing, with the Arena-?"

Damas winced and looked away.

"I. I did not warn you, I was not permitted to. But the final trial of a Spargan is one they are supposed to lose."

Jak bristled. "What?!"

"It's a test of whether they can put loyalty to their city over the commands of a tyrant. Sig wasn't supposed to throw down his gun, he was supposed to goad you into a sparring match." Damas ran his hand over his shaved head. "I should have told him before he went in that it was you. I didn't know that you knew each other, but- maybe he wouldn't have panicked if he'd known it was a Final Trial. Maybe I wouldn't have panicked."

Jak stared at him in disbelief for several seconds. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, he blurted out an accusation with no bite to it.

"What, did you forget I didn't grow up here?"

When he was met with chagrined silence, his eyes widened.

"Oh my gods you did. How?! You're the one that found me out there!"

Clearly embarrassed, Damas shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what to tell you. There are days when it just...seems as though I have known you for much longer than seven months."

Jak took that statement, turned it over in his mind. The version of Damas in his head wasn't quite matching the one in front of him. Even before things had become strained between them, he hadn't had the context to understand the way Damas saw him. He still didn't- not completely.

"Sorry," he said suddenly, and gestured to the soaked trousers. "I um. I don't usually...not in front of people, I mean-"

He leaned back against the stairs and stretched his legs out before him. The linen stuck to his legs in sodden wrinkles and folds, nearly transparent against his calves. It would dry quickly once he stepped outside again -- and the evaporating water would serve to cool his skin nicely. But for now, it drew his mind to his panic attack.

"Don't apologize." Damas laced his fingers together loosely and leaned his elbows against his knees. "May...may I ask what it was that sparked that kind of fear?"

Jak met Daxter's eyes, down in the water. The ottsel winced. He knew he'd taken it too far. He was just so sick of people acting like Jak was a trained dog with no autonomy of his own. And sometimes his desire to protect Jak’s emotions didn't mesh completely with what Jak needed at the moment.

Jak broke their gaze and began to pick at a scar on his elbow.

"...thought I was going to have to choose sides. Between you and Dax."

"Why would supporting Daxter cause you to panic?" Damas pressed.

"Because," he muttered with a shrug.

He'd assumed without question that Jak would take Daxter's side. Jak didn't know whether to be amused or grateful or just tired.

"Because?"

"Because I- I wanted this to still be home." Jak made a vague gesture encompassing the room, and its occupants.

"This is your home," Damas insisted. He glanced to the empty Oracle with a thoughtful frown.

Something lingered in the corners of Jak's eyes. A concern he wasn't voicing. Did he still believe he could be so easily forsaken?

"If this is where the desert brought you, then this is where the desert meant you to thrive."

But then, he had been cast out of Haven on the flimsiest of pretenses. His faith in hu'menity was shaken. For a moment, Damas considered changing the subject. He could talk about the coming trials, give Jak something else to think about.

Or he could meet him on his level. Show him the same vulnerability he'd so unwillingly displayed.

The words stuck to his tongue, stabbed like needles into the roof of his mouth as he forced them through his teeth.

"I...had a son. Some years ago."

"Had". Was there ever such a horrible word?

"He was like you -- or, he would have been, when he was older."

Under his breath he added, "if he ever got the chance to get older."

Jak's brows knit together, then went slack. From tiny pinpricks in the centers of his eyes, horror flooded out to the rest of his face.

"You have a child?"

After a moment to collect himself, the king nodded.

His head dipped lower, nearly brushing the steeple of his fingertips.

"I did. He was taken from me, by some of the same people who seem to have orchestrated your own suffering."

"I pray that my son still lives but- he was so young. So small. So-"

Damas’s voice cracked.

"So very small."

Guilt played across Jak's face for a moment, then was swallowed up by a deep sadness that welled up from within. Haven was a city of devils. He wondered if Damas’s child had been taken during the time when Praxis was snatching children en masse in his search for Jak's childhood self.

Did that make it his fault that Damas was so bereaved?

"That's-"

That's not fair. It's an abomination. Hurting a kid should be enough to make the Precursors strike you dead on the spot. Errol should've died the first time he put me in the Chair-

Jak's thoughts spiraled out of control, and he had to fight to return his focus to the moment.

"That's terrible."

Inhaling sharply, Damas raised his head and straightened his spine. One warm, callused hand found its way to Jak’s shoulder and squeezed.

He felt his throat closing up, snapping his voice into grating pieces.

"The reason I tell you this is so that you will understand this: It would take more than a little teenaged defiance to make me turn my back on you."

"I lost my son, Jak," he croaked, "I cannot lose you, too."

The laryngeal vibration began again -- from Jak, this time. The nearly autonomous response was as much a subconscious desire to comfort Damas as it was self-soothing. Even so, his chest ached dully. How old, he wondered, had Damas’s son been when he was taken? He must have been so scared! Did he call out for his father? Did Damas call out for him?

"In...war," Damas said hesitantly, "Sacrifices are sometimes required of us. In my case, I had to stay and rebuild the part of the wall the attackers destroyed. To protect thousands from the storms and the Marauders. I knew that, but it still took days for Sig to convince me to send him to Haven in my place."

"Yeah," Jak muttered, "I know about sacrfices."

But Damas shook his head. "It's hardly a sacrifice if someone else chose it for you out of convenience. That's just betrayal."

Silence fell again, but there was no tension to it. A sense of introspection lingered between them, each consumed with his own thoughts. Even Daxter's anger had muted itself -- now overlayed with guilt, berating himself for jumping to fight Jak's battles without bothering to see what Jak himself wanted.

The moment of quiet ended with a crackling of the city radio from which Damas monitored all official channels.

"Oh not now," the man groaned with a most unkingly attitude. "Can I have a moment of peace?"

"No way," Jak scoffed, finding a glimmer of humor in the situation, "You jinxed it by letting us take a break. Now something crazy is going to happen."

Damas narrowed his eyes. "Boy, if you will that into reality-" he warned, with no real way to finish the threat.

The second he picked up the receiver, he knew it was going to be a headache.

"Sire! We've got three different Marauder patrols converging on the city gates! There's a fourth on the radar crossing the river now!"

Daxter pulled himself out of the water and cringed. "How many cars is that?"

"Twelve, at least," Jak gulped.

Damas did not take this information the way he normally would have. He seemed to be fuming as he stood up and stomped up the stairs to retrieve his staff. Jak could hear him muttering under his breath.

His voice rose to something more audible. "I'm not in the mood for this, Egil," he snapped, addressing the thane of the Marauders as if he were present.

"Not the time, Egil, this is not the time to test me! Just got my kid back, got threatened by a bloody Oracle-"

Jak decided, for the sake of being able to focus during a fight, to just pretend he hadn't heard Damas referring to him as his own kid. He could come back to that and freak out later. Right now, there was a fight to be had. He held an arm down for Daxter to use as a ramp, then stood.

"Where do you need me?" he asked.

Damas gave him a searching look. For an instant, his gaze flicked to the lifeless Oracle. That seemed to reinforce his resolve.

"With me," he said shortly. "We're taking the Dozer. You're on the turret gun."

The way Jak's -- and even Daxter's -- eyes lit up almost made up for the hassle Damas knew this skirmish was going to be. He cast one last look at the Oracle before shepherding them to the lift.

Keep your counsel, he thought, and I will keep mine. I don't need your permission to add a son to my House. What of that, eh? The Heir and your renegade Pawn allied against you!

"Hey, maybe I should drive," Jak suggested as the lift began to move."

"Hm." Damas pretended to consider it. "No."

"Why not?!"

"You can't reach the pedals yet."

He could have simply explained that he preferred to drive his favorite vehicle himself. But, the slightest bit giddy at the thought of open rebellion against fate, Damas instead bent slightly to offer a teasing grin.

"What?! Oh come on!"

The elevator sank out of sight, and the water wheel trembled. The statue vibrated and the pools bubbled and boiled with the helpless fury of a falconer whose birds had long since slipped the jesses to fly free. But the boy had not spoken falsley: it was not a Precursor, merely the echo of one's memory. In the face of hu'men defiance, it was helpless to retaliate in any meaningful way. Even withholding the truth of the Hero's identity had been robbed of its intended effect, considering the Fallen Heir and the Hero had gone ahead and reformed the broken bond between them anyway!

The Oracle could not comprehend their motives, nor could it ever hope to understand the complexities of the hu'men mind.

It could only watch and seethe.

#fic prompts #writing prompts #free day friday #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #headcanon that the final arena battle is a Kobayashi Maru and Jak pulled a Kirk #i named the Dark Oracle after one of the mythological Titans #sneaky reference to sparguscituangel canon where Mictecacíhuatl is the patron of dark eco #tw panic attack #daxter was fully ready to End Damas right there 😂 #Jak's species can purr now because the concept art started out vaguely feline #eldritch abomination oracle time! #except instead of humans being unable to comprehend the lovecraftian monster #its the lovecraftian monster that is wholly incapable of understanding humans without succumbing to madness #long post #oneshot

[kirasgirl]

UNIVERSE

Geto suguru x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

They say present choices influence the future, but some say you should seize the moment since your life in this universe is as short as the unique moments you'll have.

And for a while, she believed that, wondering for a long time, or rather, lying to herself by saying in her thoughts that the decision she made was simple, something of the moment that she would put herself at risk. Never imagining the danger she would put herself in.

Perhaps aware of where she would be at the moment, but blinded by the illusion of a promising future with someone she loved.

And that was illusory, given by the way she found herself at this exact moment. Emotions as transparent as the water falling outside from the rain hitting the ground.

They are in the hallway of an old Japanese temple, the stone walls witnessing their heated argument. Suguru, with eyes sparking with determination, confronts her, whose expression is a mixture of disbelief and indignation.

"You simply don't understand! This plan is necessary to purify our land, to eliminate those who only cause chaos and destruction."

It was frightening, for the first time in all the years they had been together, it was the first time he had shouted at her.

"I can't believe you're serious, Suguru. Indiscriminate killing isn't the answer. Are you willing to sacrifice innocent lives for your distorted vision of order?"

Suguru advances, fists clenched, eyes flaming with fanatical fervor.

"It's not about sacrifice, Y/n. It's about restoring balance, eliminating those who oppose our greater purpose."

The girl raises her hands in a defensive gesture, her face a mask of despair and sadness.

"I can't let you do this. If you go ahead with this plan, you'll be becoming what you despise the most. A power-hungry tyrant."

Tension fills the hallway as the two stare at each other, words heavy with weight.

"So you choose to side with the weak, Y/n? You'd rather oppose me than join the cause of true order?"

"It's not about weakness or strength, Suguru. It's about what's right. And your plan is anything but that." She responds immediately, fury in her eyes that were once so gentle.

Silence hangs between them, the echo of their words reverberating off the walls of the ancient temple. A decision must be made, and the fate of many hangs in the balance.

Suguru approaches her, a spark of malice shining in his eyes.

"Do you think I don't know about your unexpected visit to Satoru? I bet he filled your head with lies, trying to undermine our cause."

The young woman takes a step back, an expression of surprise mixed with caution spreading across her face.

"How did you... That's irrelevant!"

"Don't underestimate my resources, Y/n. I know more than you imagine. And I bet Satoru didn't miss the opportunity to influence your opinion, to sow doubts about our plans."

She lifts her chin, a spark of indignation igniting in her eyes.

"You want to know the truth? Satoru didn't influence me. He just opened my eyes to the truth, to the horror of what you're planning."

"Oh, is that what you think? That he's on your side? Don't fool yourself, darling. Satoru is a skilled manipulator, and you fell right into his trap."

The tension between them reaches its peak, each word laden with emotion and distrust.

Suguru advances another step, his voice filled with anger and possessiveness.

"How dare you defy our cause? How dare you meet with him, listen to his lies and betrayals?"

She stands her ground, a gleam of determination in her eyes.

"I'm not defying anything, Suguru. I'm fighting for what I believe is right, and if that means confronting your insane plans, then so be it."

Suguru clenches his fists tightly, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and possessiveness.

"You're mine, darling. Your loyalty should be with me, not him. You have no idea what he's capable of, what he'll do to destroy us."

Y/n refuses to back down, her voice firm and unwavering.

"I don't belong to anyone, Suguru. Not to you, not to Satoru. I make my own choices, and I choose to fight against the darkness you're trying to bring upon us."

The tension between them is palpable, each word a spark in a powder keg about to explode.

Suguru steps back for a moment, his expression a mix of shock and indignation.

"What happened to you, Y/n? Just a few months ago, you were fully committed to our cause, willing to do anything to see our plans realized."

The girl faces Suguru with determination, her voice steady and unwavering.

"What happened is that I opened my eyes, Suguru. I saw the truth behind your empty promises of utopia. I saw the darkness lurking in your heart."

Suguru shakes his head, a mix of disbelief and sadness passing through his eyes.

"You're mistaken. Everything I'm doing is for the good of our land, for the good of our people. You just need to understand that."

She shakes her head firmly, her determination unyielding.

"No, Suguru. I understand perfectly. And that's why I'm fighting against you. Because I know your plans will only bring destruction and pain."

The tension between them reaches a new level, each firm in their convictions but with an impassable abyss between them.

Suguru grabs her arm with a force bordering on control, his empty eyes reflecting a sinister darkness.

"You're mine, Y/n. You always have been and always will be. No matter what you think or what you try to do. You belong to me."

The young woman shrinks under Suguru's firm grip, a mixture of fear and defiance shining in her eyes.

"I am not your property, Suguru. You can't control me like this."

He lets out a bitter laugh, his lips twisting into a crooked smile.

"Oh, but I can, Y/n. And you know it. Any decision you make will be futile, because in the end, you'll always come back to me."

He then softens his grip, his voice taking on a honeyed and manipulative tone.

"Because, Y/n, I love you. And everything I'm doing is for our own good. You need to trust me, trust our love."

The young girl struggles against Suguru's grasp, her eyes filled with distrust and anguish at the sweet words echoing in her ears.

"You know there's no future for you beyond me, Y/n. Our connection is stronger than anything. I am your safe harbor, your guide in this tumultuous life."

His voice grows more intense as he stares into her eyes, trying to find any sign of weakness.

"You can't resist me. Our destinies are intertwined, our souls merging into one. And together, we can conquer anything. Right?"

Y/n fights against the suffocating feeling, trying to stand firm against the man's manipulations.

"I don't belong to you, Suguru. My heart and mind are my own. And I won't let you control my life or my choices."

He lets out a bitter laugh, his eyes shining with dangerous intensity.

"You'll learn, Y/n. Sooner or later, you'll understand that you can't escape from me. And when that happens, I'll be here to welcome you back, with open arms and a heart full of love."

She finally breaks free from Suguru's grip, her eyes filled with tears, a deep pain echoing in her chest. She slowly steps away, each step a battle against the torrent of emotions threatening to consume her.

Unable to articulate a word, Y/n turns her back on Suguru and runs through the temple corridors, her soft steps echoing in the quietness of the surroundings. A burning anger seizes her being, a mixture of indignation and sadness flooding her mind.

As she flees, the feeling that Suguru's words were true weighs on her like an anchor. A part of her wishes he's wrong, but another part knows that the truth lies there, hidden in the depths of her soul.

She runs, determined to find answers within herself, away from his manipulations and control. The cold night wind caresses her face as she moves away, a spark of hope rising in her heart despite the darkness surrounding her.

Suguru watches her leave, a sense of emptiness settling in his chest, even as he tries to suppress it firmly. He knows his actions were harsh, that he distanced himself from the man he once was, the man who loved Y/n more than anything.

A wave of self-awareness washes over him, making him question his own choices. He remembers the happy moments he shared with her, the dreams they built together, and a pang of regret forms in his chest.

But still, he knows he can't deviate from the path he's chosen. The plans he's laid out are greater than any personal feeling, and he refuses to let his love for her distract him from his goals.

With a heavy sigh, Suguru hardens his determination, promising himself that he won't allow anything, not even love, to stop him from achieving his objectives. He puts his mask of impassiveness back on, ready to face whatever challenges the future holds, even if it means sacrificing the only person he ever truly loved.

Deep down in his heart, a whirlwind of doubts assaults Suguru. He wonders if pursuing his plans, no matter the cost, is worth sacrificing the love and happiness he once knew with that girl.

Despite his apparent determination, he finds himself tormented by the possibility that this path may lead him to loneliness and regret. He wonders if he'll be able to live with the weight of his choices, drifting further away from the person he truly is.

A whispering voice inside him reminds him of the moments of tenderness and joy he shared with Y/n, and he feels a tightening in his chest, a pain that goes beyond the ambitions and goals he seeks to achieve.

Despite all his certainties, a small seed of doubt begins to sprout within him, fueled by the memory of the love he once shared with her. He wonders if this is truly the destiny he desires for himself, if this is the person he wants to become.

But for now, he buries those doubts deep down, sealing them beneath a layer of determination and purpose. He knows he can't afford to hesitate, not when he's so close to achieving his ultimate goal. So, with a resigned sigh, he presses on, ignoring the emotional turmoil within him and marching towards his uncertain destiny.

In the cold silence of the temple, Y/n finds herself lost in a storm of emotions, her tears mingling with the pain in her heart. She wonders if the choices she made, driven by the love she felt for him, were truly worth it.

Every moment of happiness they shared now seems overshadowed by the shadow of betrayal and manipulation. She wonders if the price she paid for this love was too high, if the sacrifice of her own identity and values was worth it.

The memories of the happy moments she shared with Suguru clash within her with the sad reality of the present. She wonders if she'll ever find inner peace again, if she'll ever forgive herself for being swept away by blind love and the promise of a future that now seems illusory.

As the tears continue to stream down her face, she finds herself confronted with the possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, everything she did for love was in been in vain, desperately leading her to the end she was in.

#gojou satoru x reader #geto suguru #yandere gojo #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk geto

[thoughtsandbones]

Take your time, then take your shot

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!MedicDoc OC (codename: Blue) 💀💙

WARNINGS: Mention of alcohol, war, self harm scars, profanity , fluff, just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

PLEASE reblog and like!

Song inspo: Tom Tom - Holy Fuck and Bennie and The Jets - Elton John

A/N: Flashbacks are getting messed up when I am indenting them and I am getting lots of errors when publishing the work, please bare with some mistakes and spelling issues.

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline... (Also I'm ignoring the OG Shepherd betrayal and keeping in line the one with the new timeline..)

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5 and PART 6

Part 7

A sick feeling woke Soap in the morning as the sun poked through his half closed curtains in his room. Rolling over from his front to his side, opening his dry mouth, trying to moisten it with saliva. Half opening his eyes he looks over to the side table near his bed and sees a glass of water. After a struggle to sit up, Soap takes a sip. His stomach lurches.

"Gonna boke" he mutters to himself, covering his mouth.

He vaguely remembered the events of last night. He remembers getting perhaps a bit too close to Ghost, Price helping him with his jacket. He remembers that tattoo. His head pounding, Soap gets up and rushes to the bathroom as he felt the sick travel up from his stomach.

...

"You still haven't told her Simon!" Price exclaimed as he stood beside Ghost at the assault course watching the marines go through one of their drills.

"Pick your feet up private!" Ghost bellowed at one of the marines who was dragging his feet when he scurried past Ghost. He turned to Price who was still giving him the look of disbelief.

"No, didn' get a chance" He replied gruffly. More like he couldn't say the damn words he thought.

"Bloody lucky that Soap didn't run his mouth fully last night" Price continued "Speaking of which, have you heard from him" Price asked shaking his head at the memory of Soap's outlandish behaviour down the pub.

"Knocked on his door this mornin'" Ghost said "Didn't respon'" he added

"Typical" Price says scoffing then rolling his eyes.

"Haven't seen Blue then?" Price asked, not taking his eyes off him during his questionings.

Ghost shook his head. Why was he calling you Blue now?

"Also don't think I didn't notice the little staring contest you were having with her last night" Price huffed at Ghost his arms held at his hips now.

Ghost turned to looked at Price, his face in a clear scowl. The disappointment reeking off him like the sweat off the marines backs. He swiftly looked back, feeling the back of his neck and ears getting hot and go red. Thank fuck I wear a mask

"We leave in two days for a mission" Price says. Ghost turns to look at him and sees Price crossing him arms over his chest and then pout slightly.

"I know" He grunted

"If you get injured-" Price began

"Won't get injured" Ghost snapped and Price just shook his head at Ghost's crassness.

"I'll let you deal with the fallout." Price sighs, giving Ghost a light pat on the back, about to walkaway from him

"It's hard" Ghost says finally. Price looks back at him, giving him a sympathetic look. Price walked back to Ghost, staying with him to observe the marines.

As Ghost looked on, he could not escape the itchy thought of you. Of last night. The look on your face of pure admiration and happiness when you were looking at the night sky.

"ARGHH!" someone shouted by the climbing wall on the assault course

One marine had landed badly on his ankle when jumping over. Price rushed over as Ghost followed through with a stroll.

"FUCK MY ANKLE" The marine shouted

"Easy Michaels, don't move"! Price yelled crouching on one knee near the marine. Price then proceeded to do a fireman's carry and hoisted the marine over his shoulder. Ghost stood close by watching.

"Let's get you over to the Doc" Price spluttered as he adjusted the marine on his back and started walking off the assault course.

"Lieutenant, keep the rest of 'em in check" Price shouted back to him. Ghost nodded and returned his focus onto the marines. As he stared at the marines finishing off the assault course, his mind unlocked a memory that was buried deep within his cerebral tissue.

<CUE FLASHBACK> Ashfield Base, Berkshire, 18th August 2010 "Keeping yer eye on the scope whilst reloading yer mag allows yer to be alert to yer surroundings" The Captain yelled at the three soldiers laying down in front of him holding their sniper rifles and trying to reload their rifles. The Captain noticed MG let go of his rifle as he reached for his pack where he had his ammunitions. He walked over to him standing near the edge of his feet casting a shadow over him. "And if yer a muppet like MG, yer'd get shot in an instant by an enemy sniper" He says standing behind him giving him a look full of contempt and kicking his boot with his left foot. "Sorry Captain" MG muttered as he looked over his soldier whilst grabbing more munitions. KD, the other soldier next to him snickers.

"Yer'll be sorry when yer dead" The Captain quipped, thick Scottish accent. The Captain moved back from the soldiers and stood next to a 6' 2.5" soldier wearing green fatigues and a blue beret that was on top of his short slicked back blonde hair, icy cold blue eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, focused on the soldiers in front. "Muppets eh Simon?" He muttered to the blonde sergeant Simon smirked at The Captain, in his hand he held a remote with two buttons. He pressed the button on the left, a target sprung out in the shooting range. One soldier, noticed the red target spring up to the slight left of the centre of their scope, you quickly slammed the magazine in the rifle, pulling the bolt, positioned the target to be in the centre, and took your shot, *BANG*, it folded back down to whence it came. "Not all of 'em Cap" Simon said after he watched you hit that target, looking back at The Captain who nodded in agreement. Simon then pressed the button on the right of the remote; a moving target appeared from the right heading horizontally to the left. Two soldiers tried to shoot but missed. As the target barrelled it's way, you manoeuvre your rifle to follow it as it comes near, you take your shot and reloaded. *TWHACK* The bullet hits the edge but the target kept going, you huff. *BANG* and the target gets jolted back. "Good shot Ru" The Captain said walking towards you. Simon presses the button again, another moving target pops up, this time coming from the left. *BANG* you hit the target. Simon pressed both of the buttons at the same time on the remote, keeping his focus on the back of you. Two targets appear, one running left to right at a higher speed and another coming straights towards the soldiers. They all try and shoot. MG and KD both miss. You aim and get the one that was moving towards you but miss the really fast moving target. "3 out of 5 not bad" Simon says towards you, gently tapping your left boot with his. You turn around to look him with a confused face. "The second one surely has to count!" You moan "You missed" he quipped, smirking at you "I got it in the end" "Still missed the first time. Take your time, then take the shot" he said bluntly. He sees you roll your eyes at him, returning your gaze to the range in front, and take out your mag, keeping your eye on the scope whilst your hands place ammunitions into the empty mag. SimSimon presses the button again on the remote. The running target pops out, right to left this time. He watches as you slam the mag back in, pop the bolt, and slowly adjust to the target, tracing its movement and then pull the trigger. *BANG* The target pops back down. "Good" He says moving towards you and crouches. You stay still ready for the next target. The Captain comes over to Simon tapping him on the shoulder "Great practise Ru, improved a lot lately" He said to you "Right, pack up and head back" He said aloud looking at the other two soldiers. The three of you get up, unload your guns and pack them away. "Ru, come see me in my office once yer done" The Captain says to you as you get up, wiping off dirt and grass from your fatigues. "Yes Cap" You respond, The Captain nods and then walks away, you turn to look at Simon, gazing at his stern face, blue eyes focused you. "Did good today" he said again as he watches you load the remaining loose ammunition into the magazine and place it back in your pack and then take off your safety glasses and beret. The ends of your short brown hair fluttering in the wind, you turn and squint as the sun hits your face. The sun was now getting low, taking its final descent into the horizon for this day. You turn back, sun rays bounce against Simon's face, making his blue eyes warm and sparkle slightly. "Cheers Simona" You chirp, giving him a goofy smile. "It's Sergeant Riley or sir" He grunted giving you an annoyed look but then lightly laughed at your ridiculous face as you walked off with MG and KD, whilst sliding the pack on and then swinging your rifle on your left shoulder. <END OF FLASHBACK>

As Ghost watched the marines head into the mess hall he couldn't shake the image of you from his memory.

How have you grown so different? You are so reserved now, not playful. He thinks walking down corridor, passing the infirmary. Ghost walks straight past, avoiding the inner itching feeling of wanting to go in.

Ghost knew he couldn't let you cloud his mind. He can't let the thought of you taking up his time. Can't let the thought of wondering how you will react when you realise the truth. He had to try and avoid you for the next two days.

Ice her out. He'd done it to others, can be done to you.

His focus will have to be on the next task at hand. Finding Makarov.

#modern warfare fanfiction #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw soap #simon ghost riley x medic #simon ghost riley x doctor #fan fic ideas #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #fanfic fluff #modern warfare ghost #simon riley #simon “ghost” riley x oc #mw2 x reader

[witchersoldier]

Kittens and Kisses

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

SUMMARY: headcanon for Eddie Munson becoming a cat person because of his cat person girlfriend.

WARNINGS: insecurities (but it's a blink and miss), pet names (kitten), one or two swear words and fluff, so much fluff.

WORD COUNT: +1200 (a bit long for a headcanon, I think)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is my first ever hc, I don't know if I got this right. First time writing for Eddie too, hope he's not ooc. Keep in mind that English is not my mother tongue and this was not proofread. Please be kind. Feedback always appreciated <3

★★★

I don’t think Eddie has ever had a pet before.

But he does love animals, that’s for sure.

Eddie would always play with the dog in the cannel across his trailer, and with every other dog wandering around the trailer park.

But he’s never really had any interaction with a cat before. He’d try to pet the street cats but they’d always run away, making him a bit frustrated.

You, on the other hand, always had a cat. Two cats, actually. You’d have more if you could.

Eddie has never visited your place, so he didn’t know you had them. It was common for you two to just head to his trailer after class (or whenever you felt like, really)

But one morning Eddie came to pick you up and drive you to school, like he always does, but you weren’t waiting for him on your doorstep like you usually are. He parked his van and knocked on your door.

You knew it was probably him and yelled for him to come in.

“You know it’s almost school time, right? What are you still doing inside?” he’d ask from your living room, he had no idea where you were or where your room was, so he waited for you to appear. Your cat beat you to it.

Eddie looked at your cat and crouched down slowly so not to scary the fluffy creature away like he always did to street cats.

He was in awe when the cat bumped their head on his hand. ‘Is this cat petting me?’ he thought.

“Sorry I’m late. That little devil you’re petting stole and hid the last scrunchie from my drawer and I had to look for it so I could tie my hair. Ready to go?” you asked, looking down at the metalhead kneeling to pet your cat.

He looked up at you like you had offended him “You never told me you had a cat” he said in disbelief. “I didn’t know we kept secrets from each other” he put his hand -that wasn’t petting the cat- to his heart, feigning betrayal.

“I’ll come clean, then: I have another cat. She’s probably hiding somewhere. She’s shy around new people.” You smiled at him interacting with the small creature, it made your heart jump around in your chest.

“Look at that, she’s just like you, my kitten.” He joked. “Can we skip class? I wanna be with your cats”.

“Already replacing me? Ouch.” You smiled and pulled him up by his arm, pushing him away from the animal and towards his van. “And no, we can’t skip class. But we can hang out here after school, if you’d like”.

Now that Eddie was standing up he was the one to look down at you. Those pretty doe eyes shining, happy that you finally invited him over.

He would never tell you this, but sometimes he thought you didn’t love him enough to invite him over. Now that insecurity of his was long gone and the bright smile you had was engraved in his heart forever.

He spent the whole afternoon playing with your cats, waving the feathery toy around.

He even tried to teach your cats a trick.

He failed.

But that’s alright, because he adores spending time with his kitten and the other two cats, the furry ones.

Since that day, Eddie and you spent more and more time at your place. Your cats warmed up to him. He was so good with cats, so gentle.

“You know, I always thought you to be a dog person, since you’re so energetic and loud. You’re a human golden retriever, honestly. It’s quite a surprise to me that you’re so good with cats.” You said, laying on your side facing Eddie, who had his head leaned against his hand, looking between you and the cat curled up in between.

“I mean, I am good to you and you’re a total kitten” he smirked at you, looking right into your eyes. That asshole, he knows just how much you liked when he called you that.

Heat spread through your cheeks and you looked away from his eyes, playing with your cat to try and conceal the shyness he made you feel.

“Such a shy kitten, aren’t you?” he leaned over and gave a peck on your lips.

For Eddie’s birthday, you decided to get him a cat.

First you talked with uncle Wayne to make sure it was okay to have a cat at the trailer.

As soon as he gave you the green light, you drove to the animal shelter to adopt a cat.

There were so many cute kitties.

But one of them caught your attention. He was all alone by the little blanket in the cage.

A fluffy black cat with a piece of his right ear ripped.

You knew Eddie would go for him.

‘He looks so metal’ he’d probably say.

But he just always had a soft spot for the lonely ones, the outcasts.

When you got to his trailer with a big box he instantly narrowed his eyes at you.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

He’s wondering if this was revenge for that birthday when he gave you that enormous box that had more boxes inside it and inside the smallest one (out of like 13 boxes) was a sketch he drew of a person laughing and giving you the middle finger with a “loser” written beside it.

After you finished complaining about the amount of wrapping paper and tape he spent, he gave you the actual gift he got you.

A cute heart shaped necklace with silver flames inside the black heart. Your initials graved in the back.

You also kept the sketch he made. Taped it to your locker at school.

But back to his birthday gift.

He eyed you curiously as you walked past him and placed the box on the counter.

“What are you waiting for, open it.” You told him excitedly. ‘Too excited’ he thought.

When he finally opened the box and saw the cat inside it, he started jumping from one foot to the other making happy noises.

“Are you for real?” he asked while holding the small fur ball. “Does he have a name?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m gonna call him Ozzy” he said. “I can call him Ozzy, right?”

You smiled at him, nodding and opening your arms to give him a hug. “Happy birthday, Eds.”

He hugged you back, not putting Ozzy down. “I love you so much, so fucking much” He said, looking into your eyes with so much love. You wished you could live in this moment forever. The first time he’s ever said he loved you.

You knew he loved you, he always showed you that. But hearing him say made your heart flutter. “I love you, too, Eddie. So fucking much.” You stood on your tiptoes and gently kissed his lips.

“I have two kittens now” he said, smirking down at you.

“Yes, you do” you returned his devilish smirk.

“But you know who’s my favorite one” he smiled lovingly at you and gave you a wink before holding Ozzy above his head. “He is” he said before running to his bedroom.

“You are an asshole, Edward Munson” you ran after him.

“But you love me” he said in that playful tone you adored.

“I do”.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #edward munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things x reader

[leonkennedygvrl]

thinking about you being shrunken by some mysterious formula and having lara and leon take care of you! ;3

oh noes! during a mission in spain with your dear partners (crushes/established throuple) you were injected with some sort formula whilst unconscious when you were seperated from lara and leon, and now you were small! tiny!

when they found you, leon was first to notice since lara was busy talking to ingrid on the walkie talkie - saying some blah blah blah about condor one.

“the fuck?” leon muttered under his breath, picking you up by the scruff of your shirt. you literally could fit in his palm, and whilst he hadn’t smiled the entire trip here, he was feeling a slight grin form on his face at your clearly pissed and disoriented demeanour.

your hands were crossed over your chest, small face contorted in annoyance. “don’t laugh!” you squeaked, voice high-pitched like you had inhaled a balloon of helium. “i don’t know what happened, okay?”

leon scoffed playfully, raising an eyebrow as he dangled you around a bit, making you groan. it felt like the entire earth shook, was this alice in fucking wonderland? “stop!”

leon looked over his shoulder at lara, who was observing a photo of a tied up baby eagle. “lara, check this out.”

lara’s blank expression met leon’s amused one, but when she saw you, plush-sized and all - she immediately came over, her eyebrows creasing. “oh my god,” her british accent smooth like butter, her gloved hand coming to stifle her giggle. “you’re adorable!”

leon laughed, booping your head with his large finger had you wheezing for air, squirming like an ant that had been sprayed with chemicals. “hey, you’re going to crush her!” lara said, nudging leon’s head and gently grabbing you.

leon rolled his eyes, rubbing the bit of his head lara touched. were her hands made of fucking metal? that’s hot.

“on the bright side, you’re a cutie.” leon smirked, seeing you huff. he really had a soft spot for you. (:D)

“am not!” you argued, your voice taking lara by surprise as her pink lips parted.

“are too.” lara teased, wiggling you a bit now as well. you looked up her in disbelief, this was like… like betrayal!

“you’re meant to be on my side, lara!” you wailed, sitting on your knees in her soft palm as she chuckled.

when the cure was later found, leon was sad to see you back to your normal state. he brushed your hair out of your eyes, soft lips in an unenthusiastic pout. “damn, i really liked mini-you.”

you slapped his hand away, despite the butterflies in your belly. “oh, quit it, leon.” and your voice was normal again!

yays! :3 you were glad to be back to normal, although you didn’t exactly mind having the pair fawn over you like you were a new-born puppy.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #lara croft #lara amelia croft #tomb raider / resident evil #leon kennedy x reader x lara croft #lara croft x leon kennedy #leon kennedy x lara croft #leon kennedy/lara croft #leon kennedy/reader #lara croft/reader #resident evil #tomb raider #lara my love #leon my husband #or well yours #ours #brainrot #throuple #unestablished established relationship #this is cute #cute cute cute

[angelofthenight]

Cardigans in August Pt.2

(Bruce Yamada x Reader x Vance Hopper)

Summary: During the summer after a fight, (Y/n) cheats on Bruce with Vance. When school starts again Vance thinks he finally has (Y/n) until she tries to win Bruce back.

Warnings: Love triangle, Unreciprocated love, Sexual tension, Kissing, Cheating, (Y/n) isn’t a very good person, Eventual angst, Like this is gonna get sad most of the time

Word Count: 2.4k

Parts: 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

“Chase two boys, lose the one”

“Slept next to him, but I dreamt of you all summer long”

“'Cause you weren't mine to lose”

You minced into the chattering classroom of your Monday morning homeroom, eyes scanning the room for the boyfriend you shared homeroom with. You finally anchored your attention to the empty table near the window on the other side of the room, Bruce sitting with his head turned to the glass blocking the outdoors and his arms folded over each other on the table. You knew you’d be in trouble with him, you did leave him at the dance without any warning or word.

You moved across the room to gently slip into the seat next to him. You folded your arms onto the surface of the table, leaning slightly forward to try and look at Bruce’s face. “Hey.” You said carefully. His eyes casted over to you but then quickly casted back to the window, his soft face converting to a more glowering expression. You’ve never really seen him this upset with you before. You softly planted a hand on his elbow, saying “How are you feeling?”, but he was quick to shift his arm away from your touch.

“You ditched me at the dance so how do you think I’m supposed to feel?” He objected with an acerbic tone. You winced at the call out of your own mistake. You bit your bottom lip before speaking, “I’m really sorry about that Bruce, I really am. I was really overwhelmed and just started foolishly acting on impulse.” You spoke in a guilty way to try and let him know that you really were aware of your mistake.

Bruce turned to look at you with a sadly offended look in his hazel eyes. “If you weren’t feeling well I would’ve left with you, or you could’ve at least given me a heads up. I almost thought you were kidnapped or something.” His words became glum and stern. “What if you had been kidnapped? I wouldn’t even know. I had to ask girls to look for you in the bathroom. But you just left me there. I was worried sick about you.”

You felt the words spill out past your lips like vomit, “You didn’t look very worried dancing with Michelle.” Bruce’s desperate expression dropped like a dime into a shell shocked look of confused betrayal. “Michelle? What does she- Do you really think I think of her that way?”

You instantly regretted saying that before and after his reaction but you felt you had dug yourself too far in a hole so you knew to just honestly explain yourself. “You just seemed to be getting very comfortable dancing with her.” You simpered quietly.

Bruce’s brows deepened together in frustrated disbelief. “It was my favorite song, (Y/n). And you weren’t there. So I danced with my friends instead. She’s my friend, and I’ve never thought of her as anything other than that.” He spoke slowly and strictly as if he was explaining something to a toddler. “I will never look at anyone the same way I look at you, I love you too much. I thought you knew that.” He softened up, looking like a kicked puppy. Your guilt worsened.

Bruce sighed at your silence and pushed his seat back to take a stand, picking up his backpack as he did so. He slung one strap over his shoulder and looked down at you. “I’m going to the cafeteria for some breakfast. See ya around.” He said as he rubbed your shoulder then planted a fleeting kiss on your head before walking out the classroom. You frowned after him, realizing he was giving you the “not mad but disappointed” attitude mixed with the distancing treatment.

This same pattern went on for the rest of the day. During study hall, he didn't flatter you with a single compliment. During English, he didn’t try to get you to laugh by messing with your hair as he sat behind you. You would’ve been convinced that he didn't like you anymore if he didn’t still sit with you at lunch. Yet you both ate in silence. The tension of the silence so thick it suffocated the tables next to you.

Your unease grew as the week progressed, Bruce still giving you an almost silent treatment and sad side gazes. You even went out of your way to ask him if he wanted to go see the new “Dawn of the Dead” movie. But he declined with “You know I don’t like scary movies”. He had been very polite in doing so, yet you still couldn't shake the stinging sensation radiating from your chest.

The month of May passed but the unspoken guilty tension stayed in you and Bruce’s relationship. You were starting to get frustrated since of how many times you had apologized to him. But after every desperate apology he would just look at you sadly and say “you still don’t get it”. You were lost on what he meant and just wished he would just tell you straight on how he felt like he usually would so you could go back to how things were before.

You thought summer break was your one way ticket to making it up to him but he unfortunately had family plans to go out of the state for vacation. He did let you help him pack and you made comfortable small talk but you could still feel the missing puzzle piece in your chemistry. Even in your goodbye kiss you could feel something missing. You watched his family’s car drive away down the street and even though you knew he was coming back at the end of summer break, you felt like you were losing him.

You felt so determined to try and figure out what exactly hurt Bruce so much so as June ended you began taking sunset walks for a fresh mind. You took that walk every single day, helplessly grasping at straws and waiting for any sort of beautiful apology to spring up from your mind. But by the time you made it back to your house, no poetic phantasm appeared to offer any inspiration to your dismay.

Your pupils were directed down at the concrete sidewalk as you took tired steps, your mind feeling drained over the cluelessness of what Bruce claimed you “didn’t get”. The loud engine of a car neared closer until it came to a stop, its headlights in the corner of your eye alerting you it had stopped right by you.

If only you knew that your worst intentions had taken form that night.

Your arms were crossed as you halted your walking to look over at the car where the driver's side was closest to you with the window rolled all the way down. Pinball Vance sat in that driver's seat, the silver moonlight shining that look of care in his tough eyes. “Get in the car, (Y/n). Let's take a drive.”

A strange new sense of longing leaked into your veins. You studied Vance’s serious features as you slowly and mindlessly walked around the car to reach the passengers car. You felt a weird feeling in your gut as soon as you pulled the door closed, like you were unknowingly sealing some sort of sinful fate. In the back of your mind you felt like you were doing something you weren’t supposed to, especially with Vance’s ‘bad boy’ reputation. Even though really he wasn’t a bad guy. Yet you were the only one who truly saw that.

As Vance drove down the empty roads with sealed lips, you felt like you were experiencing some kind of fever dream with your high body temperature and the wind blowing into the car from the open windows. But yet as dreamlike as the situation felt, an excitement exhibited in your chest.

Vance drove his mom’s car down a few roads before finally pulling into a line of cars that led up to a ticket stand. You moved around in your seat to catch the sight of the drive in. You gave Vance a look of wonder but he didn’t spare you a glance until he pulled into a spot near the back but the forward view from the car trunk was perfectly directed to the windows of space between the cars so you could see the screen perfectly.

You copied Vance getting out of the car to the back of the car where he pulled the trunk door open. He left his hand where it was on the trunk door and looked over to you. You smiled sincerely before you hopped into the open trunk and leaned against the back of the backseats. Vance copied but reached over the backseat to pull out a cotton blanket. “Knew this would come in handy.” He mumbled in a tone that made you unsure whether he was talking to himself or you.

He hastefully laid the blanket over both of your legs as the opening credits began on the screen up ahead. It was soon revealed to be the new movie ‘Grease’ with John Travolta, who you saw in ‘Saturday Night Fever’ the previous year which was the movie that introduced you to Bee Gees.

You were enjoying the movie in large amounts as it went on, loving the songs and 50s fashion. You hadn’t even realized you were smiling in amazement and awe until you had given Vance a glance to see how he was reacting to ‘Greased Lightnin’. He was watching you with a fondness drenching his blue eyes and the corner of his lips was slightly perked up. Your smile stayed in place but your brows scrunched together in amused confusion. “What?”

He looked down at your smile then back up to your moonlit gaze. “I haven’t seen that smile in awhile. It’s nice to see it again.” He said with a close look of wonder; looking at you stonely intently. Your cheeks warmed up into rosy hues; whether from the hot temperature of the summer night or from how close he was to you, you didn’t know.

You were extremely close to him, you had finally realized, so close that your shoulders were constantly grazing one another. With a face burning red, you attempted to shift your bottom away slightly, feeling as cornered as a mouse in a trap. But your opposite shoulder bumped against the wall of the car, leaving you in a very intimate sandwich between the wall and Vance.

A sudden movement caused a quiet squeak to catch in your throat. He caught your attention and you gulped, ensnared in the web of his vivid eyes. He had placed his hand beside your hip where your hand had fallen to caress his index finger over your fingers, trying to express the tenderness welling in his chest.

You forced your breathing into a slow steady, trying to gather your thoughts that had been scattering in a panicked manner as you weren’t in the right headspace to emotionally prepare yourself for anything like this. Unfortunately, the flame of your faithful strength quickly blew out with a 'poof' the instant he leaned his face closer to yours.

“(Y/n).” He mindlessly breathed out. The way your name left his lips was enticing. They contained within them a disembodied reverence, an intense adoration, and you could feel it envelope your heart. His lips were inches apart from yours now and he raised his other hand to caress your burning hot cheek with his thumb, a gentle invitation, leaving you room to choose. His breath was warm and his touch so welcoming that you almost forgot where you were. He began to lean in but he halted and slowly pulled away. Your gazes never left each other, like your iris’ were connected by a steel string.

But your amorousness was not kind enough to leave you be. You began to lean your head closer to his, feeling a sudden high rush of warm adrenaline as your brain was falling behind on timing. You leaned in so close that the tips of your noses bumped as your parted lips closely hovered over his. But then you pulled away leisurely.

Vance’s eyes were widening in realization, the sweetest realization that perked up the energy in his veins. You leaned in too! You… wanted to kiss him too. You… you… you liked him back.

Vance couldn’t restrain his desires for another second and his lashes fluttered closed quickly, anticipating the sweet affection he had oh-so long awaited from the one who made the rock of a man’s knees feel like jello. He dipped his lips into yours and felt an electric sensation buzz his mouth; his first kiss.

Your shoulders lightly tensed from the locking of a brand new pair of lips. The feeling of his fingertips brushing through your hair caused your heart rate to skyrocket. At the last second, your sudden increased desire for his touch reached its vertex, and you pressed your lips deeper into the kiss. Your lips melted together as you reached your hands up to tangle your fingers up in his blonde curly locks.

“Mmm.” Vance sighed happily into your mouth, pulling you into a tight loving embrace. 'At last...'

~

You felt the bindingness of the sun sting through your eyelids even as you scrunched them closed harder. Knowing your body typically couldn’t fall back asleep once awakening, you grudgingly opened your eyes as you rolled off your side to lay on your back. You stared at the unfamiliar ceiling before you turned your head to the side to see over the edge of the unfamiliar bed to the unfamiliar messy room.

A snore caused your head to turn to the other side to be met with Vance’s sleeping form, his mouth hanging open as drool seeped onto his yellow tinted pillow. The realization of where you were pushed you into a sitting position. You took a look around at Vance’s room on a messy floor and sloppily placed posters on the walls.

You looked back down at the loud sleeping blonde. You felt a sense of secrecy and guilt stain your bones but also a feeling of thrill, intoxicating riskiness; reveling in the dangerous feeling Vance gave you.

But even though you slept beside Vance, your mind was filled to the brim with a certain Japanese boy.

#Spotify #the black phone #the black phone imagine #the black phone x reader #vance hopper imagine #Bruce yamada imagine #vance hopper x reader #bruce yamada x reader #vance hopper #bruce yamada #love triangle #taylor swift #folklore #folklore love triangle #august #Betty #cardigan

[queerofthedagger]

Hey Mona, I absolutely adore your writing!! If you're feeling up to it, how about merthur + no. 45 from the dialogue prompts list for the December ficlets?

Hey Sia, thank you for the prompt!! I hope you'll like it &lt;3 (And if you'd like to have it gifted to you on ao3, feel free to drop me your username in a comment here!!)

Cornflower Heart

“Tell me a secret,” Arthur says, the words meeting the night air softly.

Merlin is stretched out on the other side of the fire, but Arthur knows that he heard.

It has become a thing, the secrets; it started back, way back when Arthur thought it funny, the notion that Merlin could have secrets.

Sometime after that, it grew more serious—sometimes request, sometimes demand to be told more about all that Merlin had kept from him.

Arthur had stopped believing that Merlin kept no secrets, and started asking all the more about them.

Merlin started to answer. Sometimes biting, sometimes hollow, and sometimes—rarely—proud. Arthur drank up the words as if they could offer absolution for all those years that he had been blind and cruel and dismissive.

Merlin hums now, a pleased sound. “I like these nights best, even if they are spent on a bedroll in the forest.”

And well, sometime after all that, the grimness had fled again; they were never meant for solemn sacrifices, Arthur thinks; he does not much care what the Gods have to say about it.

Merlin still tells him secrets. Silly ones, at first; gossip and pranks from his childhood; tentative; testing whether Arthur would indulge him.

“Do you now?” Arthur asks, turning on his side. The fire washes golden-red across Merlin’s face, his eyes already on Arthur.

Recently, it has turned into this; something between levity and careful revelations, and Arthur is so, so terrified.

“Tell me another one?” he requests, watching as Merlin’s mouth curls into a smile.

He is so, so terrified that he is wrong.

“I think you are happiest here, too. It’s why I like it so much.”

Arthur swallows. “Another one.”

He is greedy tonight, for reasons he does not dare name. Merlin will put an end to it eventually, with a grin and a roll of his eyes and turning away his final answer, taking Arthur’s cornflower heart with him.  

Merlin pushes up on one elbow, and he looks at Arthur as if he could peel away every little secret that Arthur has ever kept. From the stray cat that he found and tried to keep as a boy, to the fear of battles that he struggled with until he was twelve, right up to the way his ribs groan beneath the force of his heart whenever he looks at Merlin, these days.

“Please,” he adds; in the momentum of leaning forward, between one second and the next, he knows that he has given himself away.

Merlin tilts his head. In the dim light of the fire, Arthur can trace the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “I think…,” Merlin says, clearing his throat. “I think I would like it even better if you were closer. To me. Right now, and in general—”

“Merlin,” Arthur chokes out, and he doesn’t know whether it’s hope or fear or disbelief soaking his words, but he is frozen still as fear mounts that he might miss his moment while utterly incapable of moving a muscle regardless.

Of course, he should have known that, now that they are teetering on this precipice, Merlin would never be so easily convinced to step back.

Instead, he crosses the distance between them, careful and slow as he settles down in front of Arthur as if not to spook him.

Which is ridiculous; even at their worst, even when betrayal burnt brighter than the fires of battle, Arthur has never once been afraid of Merlin.

“Tell me a secret,” Merlin murmurs, his fingers finding Arthur’s wrist. The touch is so light, Arthur barely feels it; it is enough, though, to finally ground him back within his own body.

“I think I would like you closer, too,” he admits. He breathes in, breathes out, and adds, “And I think… I think I would like it if you kissed me now.”

You tease, he does not say, and sees in Merlin’s smile that he heard it, all the same.

When Merlin bends over to press his open mouth to Arthur’s—finally, finally—Arthur thanks the Gods for the first time in a long time, for how Merlin always seems to understand.

#bbcm #merthur #merlin fanfic #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #mona's writing #december gift-ficlets