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hornedqueenofhell · 9 months

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Hidden Depths Pt. 3

Part 2

He’d just left the movie theatre when he heard it.

“Get over here freak!” His head snaps up and he gives a frantic look around before realizing that no one is coming after him. No, a glance around the front of the building reveals a group of Jason Carver’s (may he burn in hell) lackeys laying hands on Eddie Munson.

Eddie is thrashing around and trying to shove them off but he is desperately outnumbered and out muscled. They manage to bully the metalhead into the alley and Keith stands there frozen as he hears the sound of fists hitting flesh.

He’s still standing there frozen when he sees Steve Harrington sprint across the parking lot with a baseball bat in his hands. He vanishes from view after the rest of them and all Keith hears is a deeply enraged ‘Hey!’ before several heavy thuds and pained screams come from the alley. Keith barely remembers to swallow the piece of redvine he’d been chewing as the rest drops from his mouth. God, had Steve…?

The three who’d dragged Eddie away scramble out of the alley, two of them supporting the third between them. “You’re fucking deranged Harrington!” is shouted over their shoulders as they hobble away, something must happen back where Steve is because the three pale and move even quicker in their mission to get away.

Swallowing nervously Keith starts making his way over to the front of the alley, mostly he’s going to offer to be a witness for them. The jocks never noticed him there so if they try to pull a sob story with the police at least those two can say that someone saw the jocks had started it.

He gets to the mouth of the alley and feels his body stop cold. Eddie is pressed against the alley wall, one hand pressed to his ribs, there’s a trickle of blood from his mouth or his lip Keith isn’t sure. Munson scrubs his sleeve across his mouth and spits on the concrete.

“Stevie,” He calls, holding his other arm out. The jock is pressed to his chest in a second, his mission to retrieve his bat abandoned. Eddie sighs and wraps his arm around Steve knocking their foreheads together with a sigh. “I’m okay baby I’m okay.”

Baby?!

“You’re not,” Steve insists, he sounds frustrated as he yanks up Munson’s shirt. Eddie hisses as Steve brushes his fingers over the other man’s stomach, “Let’s go home and get you patched up.”

Eddie chuckles which turns into a groan as he hunches slightly from the pain, “It never fails to make my day when you refer to the trailer as home.”

“You and Wayne are home, no matter where it is.” And before he can process any of what was just said Steve is cupping Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pressing a kiss to his bloody lips.

A noise causes them to spring apart, Steve throwing himself in front of Eddie looking half feral. It takes Keith entirely too long to realize that the noise was the rest of his pack of red vines falling from his numb fingers and hitting the concrete. As soon as their eyes meet Keith feels a chill run down his spine. There’s so much fear there, on both of their faces, Steve in front of Eddie arms spread to protect him and Eddie’s fingers twisting in the back of Steve’s jacket.

“Steve, Steve let’s go. Now!” Eddie tugs Steve back a step or two before both of them turn and flee into the woods. They left the bat behind in their retreat and after a minute's debate he walks over and picks it up. He knows Steve is scheduled to be on shift with him tomorrow.

He’s at the counter, flipping through a magazine and chewing gum when Steve walks in. Eddie’s van is still idling in the parking lot, with Nancy Wheeler in the passenger seat. Keith accidentally swallows the wad of gum when he realizes that she’s cleaning a shotgun and staring him down. Steve looks skittish, eyes darting around like he’s expecting another mob to appear and murder him.

“There’s a handful of returns in the bin and we got a new shipment of movies that need stickers and a place on the shelves.” He informs the brunette going back to his magazine.

“Okay.” He offers but makes no move to do either of those tasks.

“You’re going to be late if you don’t clock in and I’m not fixing it.” He flips another page and reaches under the counter to dig out more gum from the junk drawer. He watches Steve prepare to dive as he does, Christ is Harrington expecting him to pull a gun or something?

It’s only when Steve shifts and he’s abruptly reminded of the scar around Steve’s neck that he realizes that is exactly what Steve thinks. And yeah he’s not the most pleasant person he can admit that but he’s never had someone think he’s so awful that they think him capable of shooting a gun and killing them before. Okay so pretending nothing happened and all of last night was a wild hallucination or a mistake is officially off the table now.

“Your bat is in the backroom by the way.” Keith offers as Steve skirts around the counter to grab the returns, he notices that Steve is very carefully staying out of Keith’s reach.

“Umm, thanks?” He says as he stays towards the edge of the store, uses the shelf racks as a shield in case Keith tries to throw something at him.

Keith looks towards the front of the store again, the van and its occupants are still there.

“If those jo- assholes try to go to the police… I saw them corner and grab Munson. It was self defense, you going after them.” That finally gets Steve to look at him, still wary but it’s hopefully being seen as the peace offering it is.

“I’ll let Eds- Munson know.”

Fuck, he’s not made for niceties and tact. Ugh why is this so hard?!

“Look man, I don’t get it but I’m not going to rat you and Munson out. Things are already shitty enough here without another mob okay? I didn’t agree with the last one already.”

Steve studies him for a moment before turning to the window and making a gesture towards the van. Eddie and Nancy nod and finally drive away. Keith gets the feeling that he’s going to see every one of the dork patrol members at some point today, all of them checking to make sure he hasn’t murdered Steve and dumped his body out back. That lot was like a feral pack of wolves at this point.

“Thank you Keith.” Steve finally offers as he steps behind the desk to grab the inventory clipboard.

“Just, never ever let me see you and Munson in the backroom together.”

“Christ what do you take us for?” Steve gives a small chuckle that dissipates the last of the tension. After a moment of contemplation the brunette offers, “Would you want to join us for movie night? The whole-”

“We’re not there yet.” Keith cuts him off firmly but not meanly, he is so not joining Harrington’s pack of misfits. Steve just smiles and shrugs in response.

“Fair enough” He says as he heads to the backroom to deal with the delivery.

*hands Keith the 'not as much of an asshole as your could have been' award* Thank you for sticking with me and reading this story

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #nancy wheeler #stranger things Keith

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kaeyas-beloved · 1 year

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Class 1-A with a fem! Quirkless reader! Cold, reserved, yet polite and soft spoken when talking, S/O may as well be an Ice Queen. Growing up alone with no love in exchange for massive training and tons of combat experience in illegal underground rings, making her one of the strongest students. Also, she has countless scars and burn marks all over her body from neck to toe, which she conceals by wearing scarfs, gloves, winter clothes. Class 1-A and some teachers reactions?

Characters: Class 1-A, All Might and Aizawa (really brief Recovery Girl and Nezu)

Genre: General, Minor h/c if you really squint, minor angst if you squint really hard + HCs

CW: Abuse (briefly stated but no in-depth descriptions + physical aftermath talked about), F!Reader (uses the girl's change room but other than that nothing else), all relations are platonic

a/n: Hi anon! Thanks for the request (only took me forever lol), hope you like it :)

Honestly, everyone thought that you were either cold or that the extra layers had something to do with your quirk. Both were plausible conclusions and there had been no other indication it could be some other reason. However, within the first week, the quirk theory was debunked.

Of course, this bred questions upon questions. How the hell did you pass the entrance exam quirkless? And just what are you capable of doing out of the field?

When the opportunity was presented, many not so subtly hinted at you to join the first round of the exercise. Finally, they’d get to see what you can do! Come the end of your round let’s just say they easily understood why you passed the entrance exam and never questioned it again.

This also left them with their final - and only - conclusion that the bundle of clothes you wear is due to you being cold. A few ask if you’d like them to turn the heat up so you could take off an article or two, though you always decline. So be it, they don’t push.

Midoriya has tremendous respect, adoration and idolization for you. Whether he lets it be known or not really just depends on the day. After all, you made it to UA quirkless, the one thing he thought was unachievable. Hell, the whole class may have some ounce of respect for you, seeing as the achievement is inspiring.

They all care very little about your personality or how you first come off. Deep down you’re nice and kind and polite and that's all that mattered to them. You’ll come around eventually, most do.

It's the girls that find out about your little secrets first. Concealing 101 and you trip up; a rookie mistake while changing after class. Shocked and horrified gasps are all you need to hear to know you've let one of the nastier scars show.

Whether you tell them the truth, just some of it or none at all, most will be on the verge of tears. No matter what you say though, they all know that tremendous pain is linked to that mark and insist on reporting it to the police. No accident would leave those scars. And if not the police then at least Mr. Aizawa or All Might (of course, none force you to take this step. They know it's not their place).

Regardless of how much your story was told the ladies all silently agreed to never let slip what they saw that evening. Unfortunately, everyone else knows by the end of the week; another, similar mistake regarding a looser shirt on a warm day slipping down just right being the cause.

It’s more wide-eyed looks than a verbal reaction. You're tossing between running or letting things play out naturally. However, given how your body is locked in freeze mode you don't think you have much of a say. Only when the looks of understanding, curiosity and sympathy (or is it pity?) register are you able to get to your feet. You're making a beeline down the hall and to the safety of your room where no one can see the darker parts of yourself. Unfortunately, it all comes to a crashing halt (literally) when you run into Mr. Aizawa.

Even though he was able to stop you both from falling over the wind is still knocked from his lungs. There’s a quick scolding on the tip of his tongue, something about no running or watching where you’re going, but it quickly dies off when he sees what’s got everyone silent.

The scars are one thing, they’re marks he’s seen often on both himself and others. No, what really has his heart dropping to the pits of his stomach is the branded insignia etched into your skin. He knows it far too well but it’s also something he never thought to see again.

Coming to his senses a mumbled, “…be careful next time," is what leaves his mouth instead, carefully letting you go to walk off to your room. Whatever the Pro Hero was going to say to everyone before doesn't come, instead, he too turns back the way he came. There are some things he has to think about about.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, Aizawa's mind plagued with memories from years ago. He knows that you can't save everyone, it's not always possible, but he could have sworn he and a few others rescued all the victims from the underground ring case. If you slipped under the radar then just how many others did he and his team miss?

There’s a mix of rage and guilt swirling in his chest as he finally drifts off. Aizawa knows what went on in that illegal organization and to think you went through more than you had to because of his negligence? He’ll be kicking himself for it for a while.

Come morning - a weekend thankfully - there were a few ways Aizawa thought to approach this. One was to relay this information to the other Pro Heroes, the ring could still be happening for all they know. The second option was to call you into his office in the dorms and talk with you. Of course, the second option was what he went with.

The room was thick with awkwardness; you, unsure why you'd been called in, and Aizawa was unsure where to begin exactly.

"That symbol... I know, (L/N)." Your teacher didn't have to say much more for you to get where the conversation was heading. He asked if there were others still out there and if there were if you would share their location and any names you might know. Though, he paused in his onslaught upon seeing you curl into yourself.

"Sorry. I just..." want to help. To stop the monsters that do these things to the innocent.

He gives you a moment to calm down before asking if it was alright to continue. Aizawa went slower with his questions, fetching you some water to sip on throughout and staying quiet as you spoke until you were done.

He's a man that gets straight to the point, and at times a man of few words, but he knew that no words would be able to convey how grateful he is or how proud he is that you told him all you could. Even if you couldn't or didn't tell much, it doesn't erase how brave you are for trying.

You have yet to gain your hero license but already you're saving lives. "Thank you."

With your permission, Aizawa told the other Pros that he felt should know. All Might was one of them. He took the news harder than Aizawa did, having worked on the case as well, but he was the one that proudly and confidently stated that all victims had been saved. That every villain was apprehended and that no one else was to be harmed because of them. What a joke - he sees now what a liar he was.

The former number one apologies to you. Full on “I’m sorry... for failing you...” because that’s what he believes he’s done. And in some ways, that's what he did. While others got to go home to whatever families they had or live better lives, you sat chained to a cold and lonely routine, unable to leave the side of the group who used you for their own personal monetary gain and sick entertainment. But perhaps, another part of you wants to forgive, because you too know that the operation was huge and that there are always those few that aren't found. Who are you to hold it against them when they obviously did all they could? Besides, it's not their fault for being deceived - told by those they caught that they had everyone, that there was no one else to catch.

When you were advised that Recovery Girl might be able to patch up and ease the more prominent scars, you weren't sure what to do or say. Still, you figured it wouldn't hurt to go and see her. The moment the little old lady peeked at your skin her smile faded. Before, she had kept a conversation going with you but now she continued her examination in silence. She'd been told what to roughly expect but she couldn't be prepared for the sheer volume of it all.

As soon as the old woman finished she told it to you straight: "I'm sorry dear. At best I can give you something to allow them to fade but I make no guarantee that any would disappear." Despite the news, you thank her and leave with the cream and ointment she prescribed.

Nezu asked for you to visit him a few days later. While keeping his cheery tone he told you that if at any point you couldn't complete an assignment, accommodations would be made for you. After all, he wishes for all UA students to be safe and succeed - you included. (And perhaps it's because he too understood a fraction at least of what you'd gone through. He knew the trials it takes to get back on your feet and that there is no easy, straightforward path.)

Your friends encourage you at times to shed the scarf or jacket you wear around the dorm, assuring you that your scars don't scare them and that they won't judge you for them. While old habits are very hard to break (especially when tied to something traumatic, something that each of your classmates understands is hard to unravel) there are times when you can let yourself breathe just a little easier and stay cool during the warmer months. In these times, it's the little achievements that go a long way.

The whole class makes it so that they watch their tones and movements - they don't want to accidentally bring forth a memory. Half the class already was pretty quiet but it's students like Bakugou that you can really see the change in. Anyone can see that if you're around his voice isn't as loud compared to before, or that there are fewer and fewer times his hands will pop with mini explosions. Midoriya, Mina, Ida, Uraraka, Denki and Kirishima become more aware to tone down their own voices as well, knowing that they can get pretty loud at times. Shouji watched where his extra limbs were and Tokoyami instructed Dark Shadow to not creep up on you.

Todoroki will sometimes randomly come up to you and share a tip or two on how to care for your burns (both long-term and for any more recent ones should there be any) while Midoriya tells you how he personally maintains his scarring.

There was only once that everyone collectively told you that you could talk to them if you'd like. A few pointed out that if you were told repeatedly then you might be inclined to not reach out, hence their decision. Teachers, classmates, whoever, you could talk to them if you want or need to. Each of them would be there for you no matter what and they want to make that clear. Whether you reached out or not is up to you.

Tag list: @tickotaku // @dorkylittleweirdo // @thylocalcrackhead //@unidentifiedzombie // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @lordbugs // @akiria12167

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#bnha fanfiction #bnha class 1 a #class 1a headcanons #class 1a x reader #bnha class 1a #class 1 a headcanons #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #platonic x reader #aizawa x reader #all might x reader #nezu x reader #recovery girl x reader

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fatesundress · 10 months

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⭑ made with love. draco malfoy x reader

summary. it's winter, you’re sick, and draco is extremely rational a terrible, doting mess about it.

tags. fluff! so much fluff! married couple, gn!reader, lots of banter, post-hogwarts with one fleeting mention of the war, draco's anxiety is whetted by a common cold, he basically treats the reader like they hung the moon in the sky and also have the power to yank it down at any given moment. he's very grumpy. but so so in love.

note. my sweet anons!! i tried on three separate occasions to write the requests in my inbox but sometimes i need to be in the depths of hell (ovulation week) to manage smut. i'm sorry. i've made some progress i swear! but the draco hyperfixation came out of NOWHERE and unfortunately i had to indulge in it. also thank you so much for 200! :’)

word count. 1.6k

You are deplorable.

With a fever temperature of 40° and explicit instructions to stay in bed, you’re discernibly not in bed when he makes it home from the apothecary, a jumbled mess of the blankets he’d swathed you in left in your place. Your slippers are absent. Your slippers — in two feet of snow. Your coat is gone too, at least; ridiculously thick and unnecessarily long, though now he’s thankful for it.

Draco paces. Then he sets the Pepperup Elixir over a flame at his desk to keep warm, pours two drops of Sleeping Draught into a mug for your tea, and paces again.

He should have insisted on binding rings for your wedding, he thinks. Something to trace you in emergencies. There’s little to do without them as you’ve evidently either taken the Floo or Apparated, and, in truth, he can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. In school, perhaps? During the war? You have him comparing his nerves over a bad cold to those he felt during war. The insanity of that is actually not lost on him, if that counts for anything.

But you are deplorable, and his. His almost as much as he is maddeningly, irremediably yours.

How he allowed an aliment like this to infect him goes against all evolutionary sense. It’s a fever of its own. Incurable despite knowing its cause, and probably festering worse than yours.

And then the fireplace hisses and out you stumble with soot on one cheek and frost on the other, the neck of your coat zipped up to swallow half of your face. In an arm shoved deep in your pocket, a bag swings from the puffy coat crease of your elbow, and Draco baulks. It’s a muggle grocery bag — translucent enough that he can see the square imprint of your favourite sleepy-time tea, a chocolate bar, cans of what he thinks are soup, and — a lemon? Yes. A big miserable lemon that you’ve deigned was worth almost killing yourself over.

Draco does not hear whatever excuses escape your chattering teeth as he plucks your hand from its pocket, puts the bag down, pulls off your coat while you slap at his hands and insist you can do it yourself, and only because he thinks you’d hex him to oblivion if he tried, leads you with a hand on your back to the bedroom rather than hauling you into his arms and carrying you.

“A lemon,” he says, and is aware by the severity of his tone he might as well be saying a gun, or a missile, or a milk crate of Living Death cartons. “You forayed into a snowstorm for a lemon. Do you think I’m incapable of reading a grocery list? I just Flooed —”

“I got more than a lemon,” you huff in a weak voice.

It is appalling that that’s what you take from his admonishment.

Your snow-soaked slippers are tossed aside as you tumble into bed. Draco bundles you in blankets and holds his wand out to take your vitals. You roll your eyes all the while, but once the cold wears off he’s sure you’ll be burning hotter than you were this morning.

He shakes his head. “Lemons are common stock in apothecaries, you know. The shavings are essential in Weedosoros antidotes.”

“Yes, but they’re always so dry.”

“And chocolate — they sell it at Téa’s across the street for the magizoologists. Did you know that?”

“Hmph. No Cadbury, though.”

“And I’ve already warmed the Pepperup and poured you Sleeping Draught, despite your urgency for this —” He pulls the box of tea from your grocery bag, impressed with an image of a little bear with a red nightcap, a steaming cuppa, and a plate of biscuits — “Inarguably superior muggle panacea —”

“I never claimed it was a panacea —”

“Of which we should have distributed to St. Mungo’s en masse. In fact, I should owl them now so they’re informed the Sleeping Draughts are ineffective by comparison —”

“You’re insufferable —”

“Imagine all the orphans without rest —”

“Actually ridiculous —”

“You’re ridiculous. And I hate this bear. Look at his hat. Bloody Gryffindor.”

“Do you know what the wizarding world is lacking? — If you’re concerned enough to make a donation, Mr Malfoy?”

You think it’s hilarious to call him that. He does well not to mention you are, by law, also a Malfoy, and his money is your money to donate as you please.

“What is that?”

“Soup,” you say. “Canned soup — canned with love.”

“We are lacking soup canned with love,” Draco repeats, just to be sure.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be sure to write the Minister.”

“Do.”

“Only if you stay in bed.”

“Hmmm… mmmm… well. Hm.”

“Incorrigible,” he mumbles, brushing the damp from your face before getting up to fix your tea. (He kisses your cheek for good measure, big sop that he is. You do well not to mention it.) “Don’t move or I’ll cast wards on the fireplace.”

“Oh! Cast wards on the doors, too. I might go for a walk.”

He glares at you from the archway. Your answering laugh is broken by a coughing fit, and you look reluctantly glum when he raises a told-you-so brow.

Draco mutters about how ridiculous you are through the kitchen and back, as he steeps your tea, heats your soup, unstoppers the Pepperup Elixir, pours it in an old shot glass from a trip to Italy (you have no graduated plastic cups lying around), squeezes the big stupid lemon in your tea, carries it all to your bed on a tray and realises, still muttering, that these are a lot of steps. But Draco balances the tray without an utterance of magic. It’s rather impressive. You should be sorely sorry.

You are, instead, asleep.

You’re splayed across the bed like something Baroque, limbs fascinatingly posed: half under the blankets and half stubbornly poking out despite his fervent tucking, head nuzzled into the pillow with a slight frown. If Draco were any better with a camera he’d take a picture. Instead he takes careful steps to your bedside, placing the tray on the nightstand and sitting as close as he can manage without disturbing the (once more, revolutionary) arrangement of your legs. It feels criminal to wake you. His fretful anger that you’d gone out in the cold is whittled to a humiliatingly thin and empty husk, and all that remains is mushy adoration. Damn you for that; you look ridiculous anyhow.

Draco kisses your cheek again. Your nose. Your forehead. He traces an invisible portrait of your face with his fingers, as if he’s ever drawn anything better than nasty stick figures on crumpled parchment in school. You, though, he thinks he knows well enough by memory to try.

You stir, not too far from consciousness that it’s a challenge to find it again, but far enough to be audibly vexed by his summons to the surface.

Draco means to berate you in that way he's so good at — chin pointed and scowl permanently etched — but you grumble with a sick, hoarse voice and he falters in a pathetic display. “You forgot your love-suffused muggle soup,” he whispers, one hand cupping your cheek.

“Ugh.”

“Heinous, I know. Sit up for me?”

“Magic word.”

There’s his scowl. “Alohomora.”

“Not that magic word.”

“Imperio.”

“Unforgivables, Draco Malfoy?”

“Hmm, Locomotor Wibbly?”

You sink further into the bed, pulling the uppermost blanket over your head inch by inch.

“Please,” he says, with profound displeasure.

You sit up and smile.

Draco sighs and lays the legs of the tray out over your lap. You regard his service with sleepy content, one of your hands travelling to his face in what his heart surges to appreciate is an honest thanks after his several near-heart attacks, and then your gaze finds the medically expert Pepperup in an Italian shot glass and it falls.

You groan. “Draco…”

His name says, quite plainly, please don’t make me.

Draco has enough self-respect to at least deny you this. “Wards.”

That says, quite plainly, I was not joking about the fireplace.

You look as though you’re contemplating the severity of two horrors, but it passes fleetingly, with one curse under your breath and a sour expression as you down the shot of Pepperup like… a shot. Burning Ogden’s that scrunches your face up until you shake it away with a blagh noise.

Come to think of it, Draco's choice of glass is much more appropriate than some medical cup.

“Better?”

You shudder. “I will be.”

“Good. Have your love soup and stupid lemons.”

And then, when he isn’t expecting it, your hot palm finds the place it left off; Draco’s healthily warm, sharp cheek, the soft fuzz of hair beside his ears before your fingers card through the longer strands and you hum like he’s your favourite thing to hold onto.

He melts, eyes fluttering shut. You’re sick, and wholeheartedly deplorable, but you’re safe, and it’ll be alright.

“Draco?”

“Mm.”

“The soup.”

He opens his eyes. “The soup?”

“You know it was canned with love.”

“I trust you wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.”

“And,” you say, thumb flush over his bottom lip as you smile a groggy, self-satisfied smile, “it was made with love, too, right?”

He rolls his eyes, and kisses you nonetheless. “You never cease to ask absurd questions.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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neverchecking · 11 months

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TotK Link

Okay, I know not everyone has played Tears of the Kingdom, nevertheless finished (I know I haven't), but I just have brainrot that I need to spread.

And I now have the platform to do so >:)

So, of course, Spoilers under the cut!

CW: Yandere, TotK spoilers!

・❥・So, this can go two ways. One, TotK Link is Wild who was taken mid-adventure with the other Links. Or, two, this is an entirely different Link, kind of like Calamity (AoC Link-- there are some great headcanons about him -> Here! Go check them out they are so, so good.).

・❥・I like both ideas! But, let's talk about the second option.

・❥・So, imagine, the chain and Reader are coming through a portal to this new Hyrule. Or, well, they think it's new. It's oddly reminiscent of Wild's Hyrule only...bigger. There are islands in the sky, holes covered in what appears to be malice in the ground. People are more abundant, there are towers standing, glowing a welcoming red rather than the golden towers in Wild's Hyrule.

・❥・It's so different, but yet so familiar.

・❥・Now, it's evident that this Link is a little more...Feral. Look at his hair and tell me otherwise, you can't. This man had won. He had won, gotten his victory over the Calamity and was supposed to have the rest of his life to settle down. But he didn't. It was ripped away from him once more. Not only that, but he was thrown back to square one. Gloom now riddled his veins making him feel like he was newborn fawn stumbling out of the Shrine once more. So he's probably livid. Angry with Hylia and fate, and Ganon and and and-

・❥・He has no patience left to offer.

・❥・Zelda was supposed to have unlocked her sealing powers, no? And she did nothing. Actually, that's a lie. She used them to save herself. He was left dying again and she saved herself. After he destroyed the Master Sword, the only thing that made him anyone, protecting her. Destroyed his arm. Destroyed himself. And she saved herself. Rauru had to protect him. Had to save his life before Zelda did.

・❥・So, yeah, he's a little less...companionable. He had to save someone who wouldn't give two shits about him again. He thought they had improved their relationship, but he guesses not. Betrayal runs deep in his gut, igniting a fiery inferno that burns on spite.

・❥・And the worst part about it? Everyone around him is praising that damned Princess. For the bare minimum. Showing them a recipe, building a school that should've been there years ago, hell, even just having a horse got her praise out the ass.

・❥・He was tired of it.

・❥・People stay out of his way a lot more. He wears a look that promises some form of harm should someone cross him, and he's more than willing to deliver. Because now, it's not just the one land of Hyrule. Now he has to deal with the Sky Islands and the Zonai creations. Now he has to deal with the depths and all of those creatures which just bring back the gloom he dispels. And he's so over it.

・❥・Now, picture if you will, Reader falling through the portal, separated from the chain, scared and alone. Reader thinking they're in Wild's Hyrule, but his doesn't quite look like this, does it? Reader thinking that, hey, at least they're hidden and in a forest, only Oh Sweet Goddess Above-- THE TREES ARE MOVING-

・❥・Reader doesn't know what to do because THE TREES ARE COMING AFTER THEM, they were forbidden from having a weapon (Because why would they be separated ever? They were there to protect their sweet reader? why would they need to burden themselves with a weapon when the Links could fight for their honor?), and THE TREES WERE ATTACKING THEM-

・❥・But, here comes their knight in shining armor- or some sort of blue tunic. Honestly, the tunic was styling if we're being honest; the open back and split sides along the hips? (Iykyk)

・❥・The trees are taken care of easily and the blond is turning to look at reader.

・❥・Reader just knows. "...I'm gonna guess your name is Link?"

・❥・And while on the outside, all he gives is a simple nod, it's anything but simple. You, this gorgeous being that he just so happened upon, recognized him. It seemed that without Zelda parading him about like some show dog for all of Hyrule, people didn't know who he was. but you? You did? You knew who he was? And the way you were staring at him was like you knew what he had done. The sacrifices he had given. And you were thankful and appreciative. Which was all he asked for.

・❥・You then thank him (You THANKED him) for saving your life and explain that you had been separated from your group. (Group? You had a group? And they just...let you out of their sight?) He offers to help you look for them and you eagerly accept.

・❥・Now, he latches onto you pretty quickly. Your already used to all the Link-isms so he isn't much different. The silence, the constantly guarded exterior, your used to all of it. And it just convinces him further that you're perfect for him.

・❥・Eventually the rest of the chain do pop up. But this Link isn't convinced their safe, after all, Ganon could make puppets out of everyone. Whose to say their not puppets or Yiga? It's better to stay with him, can't you see that?

・❥・The chain obviously have a different opinion on the matter, Legend all but Demanding you back. Hyrule and Four try to placate this Link, while Wild, Wind and even Twilight are trying to think of way of just scooping you up and running. Sky and Warriors are trying to barter with this Link (What does he want? Fairies? Potions? Money? They could have it all should he just give you back). Time is the only one to recognize that this is still a Link. He still wants what's best for you. That doesn't mean he trusts him.

・❥・If Fierce Deity and First are int he group at this point, they too are probably either trying to manipulate explain to this Link that they are in fact your aforementioned group or are just barely holding onto the shred of sanity left thats stopping them from simply doing away with this obstacle.

・❥・But this Link, like all Links, is stubborn. Not just a regular stubborn either. He has learned the hard way that if he wants something, he's going to have to fucking cling to it to keep it. And he's not losing you. Eventually they explain the situation after a bit of your pestering and he loosens up, just the slightest, to take in their words. That doesn't mean he lets go though. Oh no, he just lets them meander closer without threatening a flame throwing at them.

・❥・He's sort of indifferent to Wild, I would think, since they're kind of the same person. He was just dealt the shittier hand.

・❥・When asked where Zelda is, he simply points up (Maybe her name is Natura? Idk, I'm uncreative). He does not elaborate. They don't ask him to.

・❥・Now, it's obvious you have just claimed this Link. He's yours. Sorry not sorry. It's just a matter of taking him with you. He's insistent on not leaving your side. The Demon King isn't actually doing anything, other than unleash monsters the people of his land are already familiar with. This is obviously a new threat and he's a Link isn't he?

・❥・In terms of names? Maybe he's the hero of the Zonai because Tears of the Kingdom doesn't really give us much to work with. Maybe they call him both Zonai and Sage. I like Sage, so I'm going with that.

・❥・The way he fights is fast and brutal, delivering hits that dissipate his enemies own mobility before delivering a fatal last hit. He's a unit of a man, probably like Twilight, if not a little smaller. (Have you seen the shit he has to lug around? Mans is built.) Same height as Wild though, just more built.

・❥・As for the type of Yandere he is? He's on you. Constantly. He is hovering over you because anything and everything can be ripped away from him in an instant, as Hylia as so helpfully shown. He is making sure nothing gets the chance to get closer to you. And he's using his new abilities to do so. Wild is probably interested in the abilities and the arm and the tech, since his Hyrule, after Sage's, is the most technologically advanced.

・❥・He's inspecting your food, checking your person every time you disappear out of his sight for a second, snarling at people who attempt to talk to you.

・❥・The group have to keep him in check like an untrained puppy.

・❥・Oh, but how he laps up the attention Reader bestows upon him. He is such a cuddle hog and he knows it, smirking smugly at the others while you hold him close because oh how his arm hurts so badly, didn't you know? Oh, how the gloom has him feeling absolutely rotten, please can he just lay with you for a while? Just until he settles back once more? Pretty please?

Anyway, those are my thoughts for now, feel free to add your own!

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #loz #Lu x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda totk #tears of the kingdom #tears of the kindom spoilers #But imagine him!#He would be so loving #because he knows what its like to lose everything #and he remembers it all #just wanna give him kithes

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naurimastaur · 9 months

Text

Seeing them for the first time, again

Summary: losing a lung and your friends to wkcd meant Gally had a pretty shit year. What’s the harm however, in seeing a familiar face?

Pairing: Gally (maze runner) x nb!reader

A/N: this is so cringe but I’m so obsessed with him Idc if this flops with the dying tmr fandom// also this is my first attempt at angst so go easy on me

———————————————————————

“Hey everybody relax, we’re all on the same side here,” Gally called out amongst the chaos. The faces of his old friends turning towards him in apprehension. The familiarity of his voice momentarily pausing their act of rebellion, the concealment of his face enhancing their confusion.

“What do you mean, we’re all on the same side? Who the hell are you?” Thomas, ever the skeptic, interrogated.

Gally’s eyes weren’t focused on him however, for lingering in the back was the reason he joined the right arm to begin with; y/n. Wretched and messy but all in one piece, they stood in front of him.

It was like seeing them for the first time, all over again.

———————————————————————

Gally had heard the familiar siren of the box’s arrival. He wasn’t remotely interested most of the time on seeing who came up with it. On this day however Gally had overworked himself, and the idea of joyfully revelling in a greenie’s newfound terror seemed like a treat.

Towering over the box he spotted a figure hiding amongst the supplies, crouched like a caged animal, eyes wild and ferocious. He had to admit his curiosity was peaked, most greenies were crying at this point. This one however had looked at him in rage, a hand lingered behind their back.

“Where the hell am I?” They snarled, chest slightly heaving, the only real indicator of their fear.

“Your new home,” Gally had replied, a sarcastic smile on his face. His gaze never left the greenie, whose eyes had regarded each and every teen boy in front of them with predatory caution.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” They questioned, eyes never focused on one person.

“All part of the glade’s charm,” Gally said, before he had reached out an arm for them to take. His admiration controlled his limbs before his brain did.

The greenie considered his offer before they had hauled themselves up, and bolted towards the maze doors. Gally hadn’t bothered to run after them, leaving the job to someone who actually cared like Newt. He had however returned his gaze to the supplies, noticing one of the crates was missing a shard of wood, no doubt a fault of the greenie’s.

He had to admit he was enamoured from that point onwards.

———————————————————————

Now they stood adjacent, mirroring their first encounter. Y/n was looking at him with rekindled fury, this time paired with their tainted memories. Their gally had died back in the maze, physically and figuratively. This version was a stranger; a defying act against fate.

The fire within them was awakening once again, where it was quieted by the nature of the glade, it now burned with the raw desire for revenge.

Their wrath was overcoming their joy. For where their heart was aching for the comfort of Gally, for the ease of his embrace, the overbearing rage was all-consuming.

Wkcd had taken Gally, that much they were certain of. This was a trick, a taunting illusion created from the depths of their imagination and wkcd’s tampering. Their time confined within wkcd’s laboratories meant they were forever trapped in their own mind, never knowing for certain what was real.

What was real was that there was a time when Gally had been theirs, when his company mellowed their temper and gave them faith. But those feelings had died with him, things were different now. They were both different; no longer two sides of the same coin but two puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit anymore.

( why did I write this cringe corny ass ending)

———————————————————————

A/n: might write a part 2 if I’m feeling silly. Also, why did I describe y/n so animalistic? Bc I’m so crazy and quirky and I can do what I want!!!! If you’d like to leave a request for any character for me to write, feel free I’m open to any! To my Weasley twin enthusiasts I will write them again don’t sweat it, I’m going through a phase<3

@thescrunkler despite you not being in a tmr phase, you’re getting tagged anyways x

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hummingbird-games · 4 months

Text

2023 In Review (Indie Games)

Last year's! | 2021

I apologize in advance for how long this might be. As a reminder, I don't bash games here so even if I hated something with every fiber of my being...I ain't sharing. As a second reminder, my more in depth reviews and live blogging has moved to Gem's Game Gems so I don't clutter the HBG's main blog. Okay. ON WITH THE REVIEW!!

DEMOS

Diffraction (Demo)- A rainy day otome indeed. I love the quiet gentleness of this game, the two romance options, and the fact that our MC is a photographer and struggling with her art and stack of life "failures" (because...SAME!!)

Alaris - I was asleep and now I am awake: I came late for the advertised fae and dragon lore, stayed seated and waiting for Fenir zjgjdf. Oh, and I guess the mystery surrounding our MC's abilities LOL.

The Summit Library - When I say I was maaaaaad when I realized I blew through chapter 1 and would have to go back to waiting for more content??? LOL, I was very miffed. Anyhoo, check out this title for the gorgeous art, another intriguing mystery (like what is *up* with the magic in the poor library?? who or what is to blame?? 👀) and of course the lovely characters we've been introduced to thus far.

Of Sense and Soul - I'm a regency romance girl. Like after you strip away the other stuff, I am but a poor woman with simple needs: a good ass love story 🤧💛 It's about the yearning and the slow burn and the will they/won't they/PLEASEEE they...I've never been so charmed by a demo, and the full game is going to be amazing I just know it!

Made Marion - This project is a game I've been keeping tabs on for a hot minute but hadn't taken the time to sit and properly enjoy the demo. I'M SO GLAD I DID!!! It's in early access now, so I'm hoping eventually I'll be able to carve out some time to play, but guysss Velvet Cupcake is doing the Thing?!? No idea which love interest I'll go for first, but I had a fun time meeting the Nottingham peeps in the demo.

Herotome (Super Demo) - Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh my GOSHHH. Where do I even began?? (Really the question is where the hell do I end because this is one of those projects I talk about a lot/think about a lot and surprisingly haven't run out of things to say zkjfksjd). Another game I've been following for a while, it 100% lives up to the superhero genre in its aesthetic, the characters you interact with, the music and sound design, and of course the slowly unfurling story. Jade and Mia had come out as my top faves, Warden is still there, like hovering in the backgroud, shhhh but I have a special place in my heart for Griffin too (that conversation we have with her?? I have so many screenshots just so I can go back and reread and sear the words in my brain. Like a weirdo. Yup.)

Celestial Crowns - Stats building, celestial royalty, dating sim where you fuck around and find out your choices directly affect your MC's personality?? I'm sat. I supported the Kickstarter and now I try to practice patience for the full game's release siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighh.

OTOME/JOSEI JAM

Please note this is a SUPER abridged list for my sanity and I fell a little more in love with these 2 jams with each entry I played...

Intertwine - As embarrassing as it sounds, I've never given much thought to the "red string" thing, and I consume more than enough romance media LOL!! But Van is suuuuuch a beautiful man, the UI for this game is so interactive and lovely, the music is ALSO lovely, just lovely-love all the way around teehee. (Also this game encourages replayabillity so like, do with that info what you will.)

Spring Boy [Demo] - I believe this game is going through a complete rehaul, so my thoughts and feelings refer to the original jam entry I played. The art is bright and cute and it's a super super short demo, but I was intrigued by the other student we meet on our mission to plead with our professor about our bombed exam lol!

Assignment Due: Project Blue - IRl group projects??? Suck absolute ass. Group projects with a guy name Asher?? Suddenly it's my new favorite thing in the world 😁

Cryptid Campaign Manager [DEMO] - Remember the last time I looked over a cryptid dating sim??? Remember how I was SUCH a fool?? Good thing I didn't make that mistake again!! The prologue is such a tease but you get an idea of what the full game is gonna be like, and I'm excited to see where my career involving love (and politics) goes!

Heart Cage [Demo] - Yoooooo I stay my ass far far far away from yanderes (could never get into the trope or the character type). WELP. Guess I just needed to keep searching because I really downloaded this off a whim--well, the whim being one of my fellow dev peers playing and rating-- and proceeded to get sucked in 🤧I thought being a detective would be the highlight, but I guuuueeesssss I was more into the romance options than I thought. Oops.

Evernight - I tried to explain what this game meant to me on the side blog, but words failed me. I still don't know what to say other than I loved it?? Which is like ummm I say I love everything, and yeah I'm easy to please BUT Y'ALLLLLL if you play no other game, play this one. Please. Date a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or a fae. Plz. Also figuring out the mystery of your MC's abilities and past is just delightful, ugh.

Bright Oak (demo) - Anotha one I wrote about on the side blog!!! Play this one!!! The writing is lush and atmospheric and the characters are all delightful and it's another game with a mystery to untangle!

The Faithfulness of the Universe- This one gets the award for most unique all around entry that I played. Theeeeee prettiest pixel art to bless my eyeballs, and this tasty mystery concerning Fate and witch Faustina's future (or lack thereof 👀) and what it all means. As a player I very much want to know what it all means!

A Cup For All Seasons - Another game that needs its flowers y'all. It's short but super healing and super cozy and the voice acting and music really tie the gaming experience together???

The Working Woman's Guide to Burning Bridges - DEMO - It's the way I played the demo twice and I've been thinking about it ever since 😭😭😭🙃 obviously life happens and things come up, plus this was a demo. But. BUT!!! I am on my hands and knees prayinnggg the team gets together again to finish the game. I love playing as a stressed, lowkey bitter hot mess who doesn't have her life together 😂somehow the fictional version is soooo much more entertaining!!!

Keyframes (Spring Demo) - After the game College Craze, this is legit THE college, slice of life visual novel of my dreams. I cannot wait for the updated demo next year, and the Kickstarter whenever that rolls around. And now that the developer is on Tumblr, I've definitely been stalking the account and reading each new post like it's my day/night/weekend job 🤧

Hello Counsel 💋 - Okay I take it back, Evernight is like a 20/10 but Hello Counsel is like an 100/10 👁️👄👁️ This game is necessary for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, alright? The banter ✅ the character designs ✅ the music ✅ the sizzling chemistry between Poise and Salem ✅ I wish this game had more buzz because IT'S SO GOOD!!! (also the dev, Miseri, is who I wanna be when I grow up. I've made it through almost their whole backlog of games and there are no misses and EVERY game is different from the rest and it makes it hard for a toodler dev--ME--to cope LOL)

Candied Hearts - Isekaied into a candy themed game?? Sign me TF UP!!! (Peppermint I love you dearly, you must understand.)

Fully Released & Played (at least 1 playthrough)

The Knight's Dilemma - I don't even know how I originally stumbled upon this??? I just know it had been in my backlog for a hot minute and I was intrigued enough to save it way back when. Y'ALL WHY DIDN'T I PLAY SOONER SKJFHFJFH! There's a couple different endings, I loved the voice direction, AND it's such a simple concept of a game that was just executed beautifully.

Trouble Comes Twice - If I had to make a top 5 list of romance VNs, guess who makes the list?? Guess. Guess guess guess. Have you guessed yet??? LOL! I have been in love with TCT since it's development days and with each passing month, waiting in anticipation, playing the Pateron beta builds, screaming on the main blog about every single thought I had about Jace and Hazel (shoutout to Jace for helping me figure out *me*) Lol if you're curious about said thoughts, those posts are on this blog and not the side blog.

Aelfric the Wondrous - 10/10 would love to forget my first play through JUST to have that experience fresh again 😭😭💛Cute and funny and a wonderful parody type game all around.

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986 - Goodness, there's no excuse for why this took me years to finish but anyhoo, I finished, I loved it, I recommend it! It's romantic and achingly authentic and the art is soooo gorgeous I literally can't stand it 😭

The Things You Do For Love - Unhinged yandere manages to entertain and garner sympathy and laughter from Gemini. And that poly ending is chef's kiss too????

Band Camp Boyfriend - There are a handful of games I found and loved before I began my game development journey, and this is one of them. BCB is so dear to me, because of the story and characters but also because of the Dynamic Duo creators and their team behind the scenes. I was never a band kid I was a chorus kid but just as the band geeks loved this game to pieces, us normal folks do too!! Even the boys who I didn't like I STILL managed to find joy in playing their routes (still have a few more to finish at the time of this posting lol, GOTTA GET THE FINAL ROUTE YO). Anyway, this game more than delivered for me and I hope more people keep discovering it!!

Belle Automata: Chronicle I [RELEASED] - While only Chronicle 1 is out at the time of this posting, I already know that the 2nd and 3rd parts are going to be just as amazing???? I wrote about this one on the side blog, so here's my copypaste that still rings true:

I love TNP (The Nightmare Prince) but Victor’s route hit the sweet spot for me. Maybe it’s the slow(er) burn nature of this route, maybe it’s the reserved nature of Victor and watching him slowly start to care (AND NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE FEELINGS TEEHEE) for me.

A Date with Death - I wrote about this on the side blog--again--. The demo. And then right after finishing a route. And then again where I was fully awake and still managed to sound deranged. No copypaste for that, I shall be nice. But yeah!! Another game where I was screaming at the sky about how much I love it and how I'll never know peace as long as I live.

Our Life: Baxter DLC - I need to offer an official apology to both Cove and Derek because falling head over heels, down the stairs, crashing into the parking lot, falling again but down a manhole for Baxter's infuriating ass was NOT on my 2023 bingo board??? HELLO???? I bought his DLC just to complete my OL collection. Was not expecting to love it this much. Was not expecting to be called to write fanfic and abandon all responsibilities to do this. WHILE DOWN WITH COVID TOO. Allow me to play the song of my people. *Send in the Clowns plays*

Our Cinderella - (this is so funny I'm taking about a side game before the main game LOLOLOLOL) Guys. Guysss. You guyyyysss 🥹if you're looking for a cozy, hilarious, equally oddly and wonderfully sweet short game, this is the one!! You may have your personal favorite Iggy ship (like me) but all the pairings are so amazing and just make sense lol!

Wylde Flowers - This is the only non visual novel game on here but it gets the spotlight because I did NOT spend 90+ hours on this game to gatekeep this beauty. No. It the coziest, the funniest, the funnest, the most addictive Switch game (after Teacup) I've ever played.

Fully Released (& still on 1st playthrough)

Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin - Life kicked my butt and then sat on me SO while I finally got my grubby hands on the full copy, I still have only played the entirety of the demo. But. We will return to this in 2024 and hopefully I'll have a full review for the next wrap up!

Our Wonderland - I looked back at the side blog and I can't believe it was only THIS year that I started OW??? Because I'd known of the game and the dev for longer than that??? So basically what I'm saying is that I was chicken shit for longer than I've been in love with this world that Developer Carrot has created kjzhhshggj. But OMG to get me, who is scared oh so easily to get hella invested in this clearly labeled horror game??????????????? And even with shit gets super absurd and hella disturbing, I cannot stop playing. At the time of this post, I'm only in Act 4, hence the category above, but it's only because I play each act in a sitting and lose track of space and time and myself. That's a compliment btw.

...

Okie!! That's 2023 in a nutshell! I played a looooot of really good games this year and while I would have liked to talk about them all, I think this list provides a nice overview.

Let me know if we share any favorites!

- Gemini 💛

#gaming year in review #gamedev rambles #yeah no I cannot keep creating more work for me #2024 I am GOING to make a shorter list 😭🤧#hmmmm fun drinking game:#take a shot every time the word 'mystery' is used ☠️

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wutheringcaterpillar · 19 days

Text

A Bump In The Night: Part 3

Find part 2 here Summary: Tommy confronts Pol, and comforts you, meanwhile James and Lizzie pay a visit expecting to settle a date.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, p in v, spanking

taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia

Tommy bursted through the door, grabbing everyone’s attention from the living room lounging areas. Finn knew that look, the “Get out or I will force you out look”. The only Shelby that refused to move was Pol, along with the elephant in the room. Smirking she didn’t say a word from her position in the armchair, gracefully sipping the burning cup of tea.

Removing his jacket, he hung the fabric cloth away onto the coat rack, reaching for a cigarette before addressing you.

“Go to your room. Now.” When you tried to respond Tommy held his hand out, silencing any further words you may want to add. Shrugging and crossing your arms tightly around your torso, with hurried footsteps you scurried into your room, slamming the door shut, the walls shaking from the anger behind your strength.

Rolling his eyes, Tommy knew he’d deal with you later, and began to approach his aunt with vindication, and power with every step against the hardwood floor.

“I thought we came to an agreement Pol.” Taking a seat, he crossed one leg over the other, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the end table.

“I don’t recall, what you’re speaking of my dear, ever infuriating nephew. Go ahead kill Mr. Gold, it’s what you do best after all isn’t it? I pity you Thomas. I knew your mind was fucked, hell all of ours are, but your sister? I knew you were close but that’d be a line I thought you’d have the common sense not to cross.” Scoffing, he let the burning sensation liqour wash down his throat, twiddling the glass with his hand, thinking wisely before responding.

“Hm.” Eyebrows creasing together, his lips curled into a soft smile, a smile that spoke with a threat.

“Pol. I’ve always put this family first, the business first have I not?” She nodded subtly, still holding her stance on the opinion of profound disapproval for the relationship, trying to ignore every day the knots curdling in her gut just at the thought of you two together.

“She’s young, and I refuse to be her heartbreak, as should you. She was crying today y’know? The thought of you marrying her off, to Lizzie’s cousin, sending her away from me. She’s comfortable here, and she will lose all sense of trust if you push her out of this house. I won’t allow it. So allow this to sit next to you as a reminder. I know where your son is, I know he’s got some whore knocked up right now. It would be a shame if something were to, I don’t know, happen to them, all at the cost of your disapproval of Y/N and I. So listen, and listen closely.” Pol sat there, her heart sinking like a ship down into the depths of her stomach while a lump formed in her throat from disbelief. Her worried eyes fixated on Tommy.

“You will not marry her off. She will stay here, in the place that has been her home. You will keep denying of any knowledge that we are anything more than brother and sister. Forget the cut, I have more information than what I need, and you of all people should know, when I have a plan, chaos ensues, wars break loose and I can assure you-“

He stood up from his seat, staring down at your anxious aunt, lips pressed in a firm, cold hard line not stuttering a single word with his menacing tone.

“You do not want to go to war with me. Call off the wedding, or you leave my hands tied with no choice. Your call.” Pol watched as he walked off to the stairs, presumably to your room.

Opening the door, he found you face down into the plush pillow, his shirt tucked between your delicate soft hands. He knew this act well, and known it to be the silent treatment that you’d only give him when you’re terribly upset.

“Darling. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’ve got it under control and taken care of. You know I’ll always look after you.” There were those soft, wide teary eyes when you tilted your head up. Tommy pursed his lips in pity, always hating see his baby girl saddened, the delicate thing you were. His hand pressed against your teary cheek, caressing your soft skin while he placed a kiss to your temple.

“C’mere.” He pulled you onto his lap, cradling, and holding your shaking body closely to his heart as he felt your nose nuzzle into the crook of his warm neck.

You truly were terrified Pol would send you away, marrying you off to anyone who held the highest bid, like you were just some pawn in a game you weren’t wise enough yet to play.

After a moment of silence and Tommy rubbing your back attempting to soothe you, when he felt your breathing pattern relax and no longer heard sniffles, he presumed it time to discuss what happened at school.

“So, who’s this new friend of yours eh? With me taking care of Pol, I don’t see a need for you to be cordial with him anymore.” Furrowing your eyebrows, struck by his jealousy, you pushed yourself off of his lap, standing directly in front of him with your arms crossed, a discerning scowl painting your face.

“I don’t think that’s very fair, considering you know how I feel about Lizzie, yet you disregard me every time. She likes you, just how James likes me. Maybe a little jealousy, would do you good to realize your not the only man that wishes to be between my legs.”

“Ah but there’s the difference love. I am the only man that has been between your legs, and if I recall correctly…” Trailing off, his digits ran between your heated thighs, feeling the warmth of your pussy still yearning for another fuck from him. He knew he was quite right when you released a lustful, surprised sigh, eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You wouldn’t want it any other way.” Tommy focused his calm ocean on yours, noticing you weren’t telling him to stop as he massaged your mound.

Pulling your panties aside, you hadn’t stopped him from inserting one of his digits deep into your already soaked core, receiving a hum of approval from your brother.

“That’s what I thought, my desperate girl.” Your chest was falling and rising , eyebrows furrowing together trying to hold back from the building pleasure, trying to make that tiny heartbeat in your pussy diminish not wanting to give him any gratification.

His plush lips connected to your neck, marking his territory as he kissed your honey suckle, smooth skin while his fingers continue to work you open.

Giving into him, you fell back onto the mattress, Tommy towering over you, clutching your breast through the tight shirt, having the ability to see your nipples already hardening, wanting to burst from the thin fabric.

His fingers sped up, your nectar merely swimming down your slippery slope as you grinded down against him in an attempt for more friction.

“More- p-please Tommy…” Pulling his fingers out, you whined from the sudden emptiness, ready to throw a fit once more until he pulled you over his lap.

“You know the rules yet you disobeyed them.” Frowning, he pushed you skirt up, displaying yourself over his thick thighs, feeling the cold leather of the buckle of his belt against your side, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

Perching your ass up, you were biting your lip nervously, embracing for impact.

Shifting slightly, you winced when in reality Tommy was just rolling up his sleeves.

Caressing the delicate skin of your bum, he swiped his hand back before sending it full throttle clashing onto your smooth, unharmed skin.

“Ow!” You screeched out, but the more you squirm, the sharper Tommy hit, more forceful.

Slap after slap he watched your ass bounce, your skin darking to a bruised shade.

“Are you going to talk to boys anymore?”

“No! No! I promise Tommy!” Another smack, your ass cheeks stinging and writhing in pain. Your hands gripped at the sheets while you were on the brink of tears, cheeks heating from the agony.

“Did you learn your lesson?” He took amusement from seeing your desperation for the punishment to be over.

“Yes! Yes! I swear!” Pushing you off onto your stomach, he removed his pants, sliding those soaked panties to the side, revealing your glistening cherry, dripping like water and eager to be filled.

In a swift motion he was still careful, knowing it’d only been your second time, thrusting slowly inside of your tight walls.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you released a lustful moan from feeling so full. The pain was still present as you adjusted to the large shape of his cock, but the mint scent of his breath by your ear, and the warmth of his skin against your back comforted you, subduing the uncomfortable feeling.

“Taking me cock so well love, so fucking tight you are.” Nibbling on your ear, he pumped slowly in and out of your cavern, allowing your sex to suffocate his shaft. Moaning you moved your bum back, demanding more friction, more movement.

“Eager now, are we?”

“Fuck me Tommy please, I need you.” The sound of your desperate, delicate voice was enough for him. Quickening his pace, he drilled into your dripping cunt with a such force your ass bounced up and down against his skin, grinding and pushing him further in until he was balls deep inside of your dripping cunt.

His lips connected to the crook of your neck as you moaned sweet despairs into the pillow, an engimatic fire lighting between your thighs while he fucked into you relentlessly.

His hands roamed down your sides, sucking and leaving his marks on your shoulder blades.

All of him was yours, and all of you was his. Skin to skin, each ping of pleasure forming clouds in your heads, thighs becoming weak as he gripped your sides, his cock swiftly pounding up into your cervix.

“Tommy I-I’m going to-“

“Since you took your punishment so well, I suppose you can cum. Release love.” Without needing any further instruction, you rode his cock with such ferocity and precision, until your walls clenched tight around his thick member, your silver syrup oozing out as your toes curled, your body trembling around your brother.

At that moment there was a knock on the door startling you both, it was Pol standing in the door way huffing and puffing when her eyes fell on your nude bodies intwined in bed.

“Oh for godsake! I don’t mean to interrupt your rendezvous but James and Lizzie are downstairs. Get yourselves together, they’re requesting to speak to you both.” Slamming the door behind her, Tommy rolled his eyes, holding you close to his heart when he sensed your discomfort of going downstairs. You hated to upset others, and held a strong dislike of confrontation. You knew it’d look odd if you were to stay upstairs, and Tommy would always protect you and keep you away from the line of fire.

Peppering sweet kisses to your cheek, and tickling your sides. He reassured you once again that he had things under control, not to fret.

Coming down the stairs, Lizzie scoffed at the sight of your messy bed head, to which you replied with a hateful sneer. To avoid tensions, Tommy settled his hand on your arm protectively, giving a stare of dominance, demanding obedience or else.

Walking in with a cup of tea, and Pol by his side, James walked in with a kind hearted smile that soon turned upside down once he realized the change of heart by the subtle apologetic look on your face.

“To what do we owe the displeasure? Surely you’ve heard I’ve already found her a more suitable candidate, you understand, eh?” Tommy held his strong position, his determined blue eyes speaking with power and position, ensuring that they were comprehending there was no further room for discussion.

Lizzie stood there baffled, wanting to prod at who it was. She’s had her suspicions for quite some time. Pol wanted to slap that stupid grin off her nephew’s face, knowing the game he was playing at. James stepped further in the room, disregarding Tommy, and settling in the love seat, folding one leg over another. If Lizzie wasn’t going to ask, he was.

“What is your problem with me Mr. Shelby? I’ve posed no threat to Y/N, I’ve been a kind friend to her. Tell me, did you really find another man, who are you saving her for someone else?” The skepticism in his voice, and the confidence in questioning him made Tommy smirk.

“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you, nor are you good enough for her. As her brother it’s my job to ensure her safety, and approve of who’s to marry her. Why would I trust her with someone who’s bought whores off the street, assaulting them when you believe no one has an eye on you, eh?”

“Brother or lover?” The room went silent, everyone astounded by the accusation, focusing their eyes on Tommy, waiting for an answer.

Chuckling, he took a seat across from the boy while pouring a glass of whiskey from the sidetable.

The tensions were high, a lump held in your throat from being nervous, all of Birmingham knew what Tommy was capable of. James tried to act as if he wasn’t frightened and intimidated of the middle Shelby, merely locking his jaw to hide the slim quivering of his bottom lip while Pol and Lizzie held their standing positions.

“Quite offending accusations, no? For someone who knows little to nothing about us Shelby’s. I find you intriguing James, you’ve lost the game but still willing to play, why is that?” Tommy spoke with authority and grit, unphased by the boy sitting in front of him. James knowing how introverted, and shy you were took the opportunity, glancing toward you grinning as if he had an upper hand, before he had the chance to take a jab at you, Tommy leaned forward, pointing his finger at James.

“My eyes are over here. She’s not involved in this little conversation. She’s a big girl, can make her own choices and she chose for me to tell you to fuck right off, or I will not hesitate to call my men, and ensure you never return. Don’t believe me? Then tell me how I know so much about you when you’ve only just met my sister today.” Before Lizzie could argue for her nephew, Tommy raised his hand silencing her, reminding her the men were talking and her interjection wasn’t needed.

James was rendered speechless, Pol fuming nearly breaking her glass in her hand when the boy got up without a word, bidding you goodbye and leaving, forcing Lizzie to come with him.

As soon as the door shut you rushed over to Tommy crying joyfully and squeezing his sides.

Pol thought back to Michael, holding her tongue at the risk of his life in Tommy’s hands. She hadn’t even known where Michael was. Shooting daggers at you both, she exited the room calling for Arthur for a family meeting.

#Tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #ranaewrites #peaky blinders

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bittergirlsworld · 1 year

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uh, okay. Billy Dunne relapsed and cheated on his wife multiple times. Billy Dunne back to the life he sworn he wouldn't live it. why is that awful as it sounds?

DJATS it's an adaptation and in the book, the original source, Billy Dunne is a recovered addicted in his 70's remembering his rock star days and how those days conflicted with the man he wanted to be. Was him perfect? Jesus, no. That man was garbage. BUT he has the benefit of trying.

Show Billy was stripped of all the grace that made Book Billy complex, becoming a shallow version of himself with no depth, moral or control. Who was Billy Dunne?

Billy Dunne fought relapsing with everything he had. He made pancakes to his daughters (yes he has three, which he chose to have with his wife) and carried his wife to bed. Billy Dunne fell in love with Daisy and burned with her. They created art and chaos together. She was his twin flame and he loved her, completely. He never needed it to kiss her or sleep with her. In fact, that was the main appeal to them: he loved daisy, not her body, as all the others men in her life. Not that he wasn't attracted to her. But it wasn't that to him. He also loved Camila, his wife and soulmate, deeply. He broke her but spend all his days trying to live up to the man he thought she deserved. Camila had faith on him and looked at him seeing more than his mistakes and sins. Because she loved him, he survived and achieved his dreams. Because he loved her, she found strength to forgive.

Billy overcame addiction, which it isn't easy. Billy broke generational trauma and gave his brother a mirror of a man who could be a example of father and husband. Billy loved two women and while yes, it broke all the three of them, he did his best to be there for Camila while trying to show Daisy that she deserved so much better. Camila also shows Daisy underserved kindness. As someone whose people never had faith in, Camila's act of faith saves Daisy Jones.

We all can understand that tv shows were never keen of complex relationships and feelings, specially romantic ones, right? They would never translate the depth of Billy's love for Camila or they would never show the depth of Billy's affection for daisy, or so they thought. So they chose one of those. But in this choice, they actually stoled everything that made Billy Dunne be Billy Dunne. They stoled his strength, his loyalty, his sense of duty and his layered, complex heart.

Billy was egocentric, selfish, rude and cruel as he was in the source material. But that's all he is. Show Billy has no redeemable quality. He humiliate and abuses Camila while put Daisy in a position no woman should ever find herself in it. Hell, show fans can't even talk about Billy outside his relationship with Daisy, because they would have to acknowledge that he's empty. And to think they had Sam Claffin, who would absolutely delivery the most wonderful, heartbreaking, emotional performance while playing such complex, flawed character.

#billy dunne #sam claffin #daisy jones and the six #daisybilly #camilabilly #camila dunne #daisy jones

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months

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Stockton!Series Part Four: Sierra - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Marcus Alvarez)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @expir3dl0v3 @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Bishop is livid, fucking livid. He can feel the fury chasing through his veins as he stands on the patch of land outside the clubhouse at two in the morning, his eyes fixed on the three men kneeling in front of him, their hands bound behind their backs.

Sanchez, the man who had planned to burn down your house.

Flaco, the man who’d tried to murder you in your sleep.

Ramos, the fucking orchestrator of all this chaos.

Hank and Taza stand on either side of their prisoners, making sure no one gets a stupid fucking idea in their head and tries to run.

It’s fitting in a way that it comes down to the old guard. These were the men who swore to protect you once upon a time. When your father was at his wits end, staring down the bottom of bottle because he didn’t know how to help you. What you don’t know, what you will never know is that they had plans for the list your father made all those years ago. If you hadn’t sought your vengeance first, they would have done it for you.

He hears the roar of the motorcycle in the distance, it tears through the air like a banshee screaming into the night. Noone speaks as the rider pulls up, they simply wait as he climbs off the bike, his snakeskin cowboy boots clicking against the concrete. He’s wearing his kutte tonight, his El Padrino patch showing predominantly in the overhead lights on he strides towards Bishop.

That rage, it seems to simmer. Bishop can feel it radiating from the other man as he draws closer, his eyes glowing like coals from the deepest depths of hell. El Padrino’s out for blood tonight, Bishop can taste it.

“Just these three?” He asks Bishop, indicating towards their captives.

Bishop removes Ramos’s phone from his pocket before handing it to Marcus. The other man studies the messages intently, his thumb scrolling through them as he takes in the details of the hit.

Raze it the ground, he’d written. I want her to burn.

“Smokey wasn’t involved?” Marcus questions, handing the phone back to Bishop.

Bishop shakes his head as he returns it to his pocket.

“I have Riz keeping him company in the clubhouse, figured you’d want to talk to him once you were finished with them.” He says, inclining his head towards the three Stockton men.

“You were right.” Marcus says, withdrawing the Berretta from the waist band of his trousers.

He points the weapon at Sanchez.

“The one that wanted to burn down their home.” Marcus says before pulling the trigger.

Flaco cries out as the blood splashes across his face, the stench of cordite fills the air as Marcus points the gun at him.

“The one who fired an assault rifle into their bed.” Marcus pulls the trigger again and Flaco falls face first onto the concrete.

“And you,” Marcus says turning his attention to Ramos. “The man who can’t let the past just die, who has to come back and rake it up because he can’t stand the fact a dead man was a better Mayan that he will ever be.”

Ramos laughs, it’s a haunting rasp that echoes through the yard as he stares up at Marcus.

“She grew up pretty didn’t she? Javi’s daughter.” Ramos says, a cruel smile spreading across his features. “Just like her mother.”

There’s a flash of steel behind Marcus’s eyes, his hand threads through Ramo’s hair, gripping it tightly before he tugs it back and jams the Berretta right under his chin.

“A bullet is too good for you.” Marcus snarls as he locks gazes with Ramos.

“She was my girl.” Ramos hisses, his tongue running over his lower lip. “Sierra was mine until he rolled up and took her!”

“She didn’t belong to you.” Marcus snaps, driving the gun even harder into the other man’s jaw. “That is something you have never been able to understand. She had a choice, and she didn’t choose you.”

“I had her anyway.” Ramos reminds him and, in that moment, he looks every inch the animal he is. “I took what was his and I ruined it.”

“I should have let him kill you that night.” Marcus seethes as he wrenches the other man’s head back even further. “I should have let him beat you to death, instead of pulling him off you.”

“But you didn’t and now we’re here.” Ramos grins, blood staining his teeth. “I bet her daughter would have tasted just as sweet as she did…”

The words are barely out of his mouth before the gunshot explodes through the scrapyard, his brains spattering across the concrete.

“Take their kuttes.” Marcus says as he stares down at Ramos’s corpse. “We’re heading up to Stockton.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans mc

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justfangirlstuffs · 1 year

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Just a Touch

You managed to locate a dark and quiet corner. Leaning against the wall, you lightly pressed your forehead against the brick. A low sigh left you, the coolness feeling disgustingly good against your heated skin.

“Since when do canaries hide away in the dark?” a low, growling voice asked from behind you.

Cabaret AU Drabble You x Sun and Moon

It was nearing the evening and your fever hadn't let up. It was baffling how your skin could feel so hot and yet you were shivering under your blankets doused in sweat. Staying in bed was not an option, however. You still had a gig to perform. In the line of show business canceling a job, especially from higher-end establishments, was a beeline to career suicide. The show organizers and event managers did not care if you were sick or dying, they only cared about you showing up as promised. And if you broke that promise they would likely never invite you again.

It was an incredibly unbalanced relationship where the performer was expected to show unfaltering dedication and loyalty, but the companies gave none of it back. No, in their eyes, you were lucky to be invited, they were doing you a favor, and woe be it upon you if you squander such generosity. So, you oh-so gracefully clambered your way out of bed, shuffled to your wardrobe, and wriggled into your work attire.

Normally you preferred to get dressed and dolled up at the venue but you'd rather not chance being too exhausted after the transit. You needed every drop of your energy for when you hit the stage. You put on your makeup, you curled your hair, you primped and primed until your mask of perfection was complete. Then you headed outside into the chilly dusk air to wait for the bus.

You nearly drifted off a few times on the ride over, narrowly missing your stop. You focused on taking one steady breath after the other, one small step after another. Mind over matter that's all it was. Just put on a performance until the curtain closes then no one can judge or condemn you and say you didn't give it your all. The bright lights of the cabaret FazOurs burned your eyes and for a moment you swayed. Then you took a deep breath, swallowing down your misery, and put on your best-winning smile. You may not be on stage yet, but eyes were on you, which meant it was Showtime.

As you weaved your way through the patrons, you spotted one of your favorite people and one out of two reasons that you didn't have to completely force the smile on your face. Sun was in the middle of entertaining himself, keeping a handful of the patrons spellbound by how he flipped cups and poured shots from over his head without managing to spill a single drop on his immaculately clean bar table. You would have been content to watch all night long as those hands and fingers forced liquid -the most mercurial of all the elements as far as you were concerned- to flow and dance to his whimsies.

He finished off the drink, adding the literal cherry on top of the crystalline ice to the scattered applause of those seated nearby. Only when the crowd dispersed and Sun began casually wiping down the bar did you saunter your way over, feeling so proud that you managed not to tip over sideways in the process. As planned, the bartender's gaze was drawn to your approach and his already cheery demeanor brightened all the more.

“Doth my eyes deceive me, or hath an angel descended from the heavens themselves?”

“Oh, love, quite the contrary,” you said, sliding into one of the chairs, thankful to have something to rest on. “The very depths of hell spat me out and now you're cursed to suffer my alluring charms.”

“The gates of hell might not be so bad if it's your company I'm promised,” Sun mused.

What a charmer. Sun managed to spin flattery as easily as a spider spun silk threads. But no matter how lovely the canvas of webbing is, it was still meant for catching anything foolhardy enough to fly too close. You are not foolhardy, but you were daring, and you did so love to tempt fate.

“An eternity with you” You hummed softly. “They would have to rename hell to heaven and then everything would just collapse in on itself, natural order destroyed.”

This earned you a chuckle of amusement. “Disturbing the peace and order. Yes, that does sound very much like you.”

You smiled feeling a little too pleased with yourself perhaps.

“Are you tired, darling?” Sun asked suddenly.

The question jarred you a bit and you realized too late you were leaning rather heavily against the bar table. You straightened up in your seat. “Looks like you caught me. Just looking for an excuse to be closer to you. I suppose I'll have to be a little more discreet next time.”

Sun’s smile did not falter, though you could tell his gaze was far more assessing now, eyes searching for chinks in the armor that you'd woven for yourself. That just would not do. The last thing you needed was for him to worry over you. Although the sentiment was sweet, you couldn't risk him thinking that you were incapable of performing.

“Well, as much as I hate to go and leave you lonely, I need to slip backstage to prep for the big opening number.” You slid off the bar stool and began making your swift retreat. “Try not to miss me too much.”

You heard Sun call out: “break a leg.”

In the back halls lined with dressing rooms other performers were already getting prepared. You were thankful you'd done yourself up ahead of time, even if it meant your curls wouldn't be quite as springy and your makeup might be a little flaked. Under the bright lights of the stage, no one would notice and you didn't plan to get up close and personal with anyone. Not tonight.

“Since when do canaries hide away in the dark?” a low, growling voice asked from behind you.

Ah, and there he was, your second reason to smile through the pain and misery. Straightening up, you opened your eyes to see a halo of soft red light surrounding you. Turning, you grinned up at the face of your favorite piano player, Moon. As usual, his hands were tucked away in his pockets; they seemed to live there when he wasn't at his piano playing.

“Who said I was hiding?” you asked coyly. “You don't think I stood here intentionally waiting for you to come find me? Tsk tsk, shame on you, falling right into my trap.”

Moon leaned down, his gaze scrutinous. Like Sun, he was rather tall and easily towered over you. Another nice thing about makeup, it would hopefully hide the fact that you were flushed like a ripe tomato. “Why do I get the sense you're up to no good?”

You laughed. “Dearest, have you MET me?”

He made a harrumph sound, but his posture was slightly more relaxed as he leaned back from you. “Yes, I have. Still questioning that decision.”

“A shame, because I would relive our first meeting 1000 times over given the chance.”

A growling scoff was his answer, one of his hands leaving the safety of his pockets in favor of pulling the front tip of his fedora down to hide his eyes. You inwardly chuckle. Moon wasn't quite as apt when it came to volleying compliments as his sunnier counterpart.

Just then you heard the stage coordinator call out, “Places everyone!”

You skirted around Moon. “Hope you can still keep up with me.”

He trailed behind you, and you're certain he called you a brat under his breath. You took your place on stage while Moon seated himself at the piano. You took deep breaths, doing your best to not sway on the spot as the announcer hyped up the crowd for the show. Then the music started, the trilling notes of the piano flowing and weaving into a wild melody. You longed to watch those fingers dance over the ivory keys, but you needed to focus. The curtains parted, light-flooded your vision and you could hardly see. The faces were darkened and blotted out by the mixture of shadows and your own blurring vision. But it was fine because you were a performer. You didn't need to see the audience, all that mattered was they saw you, and so you needed to be perfect.

You took one more steadying breath and belted out the first line of lyrics. It was all or nothing now.

-----

When Sun had wired a message to Moon that something was off with their star performer, the latter was of course put on edge. For one thing, performances at the FazOurs were the prime priority. They were the establishment's pride, and thus no one could afford to fall short. More importantly, however, the thought of something being off with you rankled him more than it should. He was also very aware that this detail shouldn't have been more important to him, yet it was. Sun and Moon had agreed when this whole mess started: nothing should be more important than focusing on their jobs so they could get out. And yet... there you were, and with just a smile and a wink, you kicked all rational thought out the window.

They weren't idiots. They were smart enough to at least try to keep a professional distance. Yet you spoke sweetly to them. You flirted with them. You treated them with kindness. You treated them like people instead of objects. You were, in a very sad and literal sense, their only friend. Yet that was a dangerous truth they couldn't afford to voice to you, nor were they allowed to touch you, due to their very strict protocols about having physical contact with human clientele, and consequentially, they couldn't allow you to touch them either.

Moon hadn't even been able to look you in the eye when you'd so casually reached out to touch his shoulder in a gesture of comfort, only to reflexively cringe away from you. He didn't want to suffer what look you might have been wearing, and later he cursed himself for being such a coward.

Now he watched you perform from his place at the piano, stealing quick and subtle glances so as not to draw attention where it should not be, for he should never be the focus. Earlier, the subtle signs of perspiration and hints of flush behind the makeup had been suspicious to him, however, you had the hop-step going and your singing was true as always.

The two of you pushed your way up the crescendo, and it was moments like these Moon knew Sun would envy him for. The moments where you and Moon were working in tandem to create something to mesmerize and spellbind the audience. Sometimes, he missed the spotlight, but for you, he didn't mind playing a more supporting role. Not when you had so much overflowing passion to give.

You belted out the last note, the air shaking with your well-placed vibrato and you struck your final pose. The audience erupted into applause, several of the patrons standing from their seats. You bowed and stayed there until the curtains closed. You didn't rise as Moon had expected. Instead, you fell with a soft thud onto the wooden stage.

There was barely any time for him to actually process his thoughts into a decision before his body had leaped from his bench and he was at your side. The other performers who were next up began to crowd around you, shocked and murmuring. Moon assessed the situation, eyes scanning and evaluating until his systems came to a conclusion that issued this as an emergency situation, allowing him to override the 'no touch' protocol. He placed a hand on your forehead and his sensors detected that you had a high-grade fever. He inwardly cursed, both himself for not noticing your distress and you for hiding it so well.

Moon lifted you off the floor, cradling you in his arms. “Out of the way,” he barked, and the other humans were quick to clear a path for him as he made his way to the back rooms.

-----

At his perch at the bar, where he saw all and everything, Sun was humming to himself as he cleaned his glasses for the third time and his bar table for the fifth. You had been resplendent as always, and your performance was impeccable. Perhaps he'd been worried for nothing. You did have a habit of throwing him off kilter, much to his amusement and chagrin. You always kept him guessing, something that made you both intriguing and dangerous.

You were kind and friendly to everyone you met. Well, everyone who you felt deserved it. Somehow, he and Moon had fallen into two of those lucky few. At first, Sun found your flirting to be cute, if not somewhat insincere. However, after enough back and forth, he'd come to enjoy your witty banter and lavish compliments. For most, he was just a bartender. Someone who people tended to offload all their problems and woes. But you? You'd been the first person to ask him, “And how has your night been going?” Such a simple and unassuming question, yet it was thoughtful, and it made him feel seen.

Just as he was about to take some orders, his eyes caught sight of his counterpart. With you in his arms. Unconscious.

He flashed the waiting patrons a smile. “Apologies, folks, but it seems I need to refill the ice tub.”

No one questioned the fact that it was still half full with the speed Sun uses to evacuate himself from the bar to go investigate. He catches sight of Moon heading to their quarters and tails him, ice bucket still tucked under his arm.

“What’s happened?” Sun asked in a hushed whisper as he slipped into the room behind Moon.

“They’re sick, feverish. It’s bad,” he muttered, not looking at Sun as his eyes scanned the room for an appropriate place to rest you.

The room was minimally furnished, as they weren’t allowed much in the way of comfort, there was a couch. It had several stains that hadn’t come out despite their efforts, so Sun asked Moon to wait whilst he took a few of the costumes and laid them out as a makeshift cover.

Moon set you gently down. You moaned softly, but your eyes remained screwed shut, your breathing labored. “I can’t stay,” Moon muttered, one of his hands lingering on the delicate curve of your wrist. The words were soaked with bitterness and Sun understood why.

“Go perform the next number,” Sun told him. “That’ll give me some time. Folks won’t mind not getting drinks for a bit if they’re being entertained.”

Moon grumbled but he nodded. His hand left yours, and the reluctance was evident in the twitching and curling of his fingers. He left, shutting the door behind him. Sun got to work taking some of the ice from the bucket and wrapping them in towels and placing them against your neck. You shivered and moaned again and he slipped off his jacket and draped it over you in the hopes you’d be at least a little more comfortable. He continued to dab around your face and forehead with an ice-cold cloth. For a moment your eyes flutter open, wide but not quite lucid.

Sun stole a moment to brush his thumb over your face. It was a moment that should have never belonged to him, yet he indulged in it all the same so he could later cherish it when your touch was no longer in reach.

“You stay strong, little songbird. Okay?”

You give a soft nod. “Mm-hm.”

Sun's hand carefully moved the damp cloth over your forehead. “You didn't think to maybe call in sick?” he asked, a thinly veiled layer of scolding in his tone.

“What? And miss seeing your darling faces?” You forced out, giving him a heavy-lidded smile, no doubt to mask the immense discomfort you were in. “Perish the thought.”

Sun made a huffing sound. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want you to think that any of this was okay. “This place isn’t worth killing yourself over.”

“I’m tired,” you breathed out, and it was probably the most honest thing you’ve said all night. So honest it shook him more than any of your flirty remarks. “How about you keep playing doctor and we’ll talk about this later, hm?”

“Of course,” Sun conceded. “Later then.”

“So, is it as nice as you dreamed?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Touching me.” You flashed him another laughing smile, despite the weariness in your eyes. “I know it’s certainly better than I’d imagined.”

Sun sighed. If it weren’t for the smile already stretching his face, he would have had to fight to mask the one your words had elicited. “You said you’re tired. Rest now. I’ve… we’ve got you.”

“I know you do,” you murmured.

Your eyes slid shut and before long your breathing evened out. Meanwhile, outside, the big musical number was winding down. He needed to return to his post. He grabbed himself a fresh jacket, letting you keep using his other as a blanket. You would be safe in their room, with no one to disturb you while you rest.

-----

Your sleep was restless and you’re pretty sure you rolled over to vomit at one point. You had very vague recollections of pleasant cold hands on your shoulders, supporting you whilst your stomach emptied itself of what little contents it had, before gently laying you back down. You didn’t think you dreamt of cool digits brushing your neck and forehead and sweet words of comfort whispered in your ear.

Your skin felt like it was harboring a furnace and your body ached like you’d been run twice over by a cab. Any time you tried to sit up your world tilted and spun, and you were resigned to flop back like a dead fish, close your eyes and surrender to blackness where you could find a brief reprieve in your suffering.

The next time you came to, you could hear the voices of your two favorite boys going back and forth with one another.

“...let them stay sleeping here?”

“How are we supposed to get them home?”

“There’s always the hospital.”

“No,” you croaked out, wincing at how pathetic you sounded. “No hospital.”

Both Sun and Moon stopped their conversing, their attention going to you. Sun was immediately at your side whilst Moon hung back. His body was hunched, restlessly shifting back and forth, like an old bad habit he couldn’t quite shake.

The yellow and cream digits pressed against your forehead and throat and you reflexively sigh at how good they felt against your feverish skin. “Your fever hasn’t broken, and you haven’t been holding down fluids.” Sun's voice was soft, but it had a firmness to it that was trying to make you see reason.

“I’ve suffered worse, I’ll be fine,” you insisted, doing your best to give him a smile of reassurance. “Have at least a little faith in me.”

Sun leaned forward until his blue optics were practically boring into yours. “Darling, you can’t fool me. You’re not fine. You’ve barely any strength. I’m telling you this, for your own sake, you should go to the hospital where you can get proper treatment.”

You just nodded along with what he was saying, until you leaned up, closing the inch or two of space and pressing your lips to his smile. You’re not certain what possessed you to do it. Could be the fever. Could be to derail him from thoughts of taking you to see a doctor. Or it could be that some part of you had been yearning for it for some time now. You felt Sun’s body lock up for a brief moment and heard a static warble of surprise from across the room before you felt the slightest pressure against your mouth in return.

When you parted from the kiss, Sun’s gaze had gone completely white. “Sorry, love. I needed you to stop speaking nonsense for a bit.”

Moon’s eyes were dilating from red to black, staring in disbelief, his body rigid, as though it had been him you had sprung the surprise kiss on. Your gaze returned to Sun who was still white-eyed and unmoving.

“Oh dear, did I cause you to malfunction? I didn’t think I was THAT good.” You gave a weak chuckle at your own humor.

You reached out to touch his face, maybe stroke his cheek, but his hand caught yours. Not roughly, no, it was incredibly gentle. The blue of his eyes steadily returned, and you couldn’t quite fathom their gaze. Did he seem… conflicted?

“In all seriousness,” you said. “If you even think of arranging to have me sent to the hospital, I will claw my way out of here and all the way home if I have to.” You shot a glare at Moon, making sure he understood as well.

A static huff of a noise emitted from Sun’s voicebox. “What exactly do you have against doctors?”

“Take me on a date sometime and I might tell you all about it,” you said sweetly, or as sweet as you could manage given how rough and hoarse your voice sounded.

This time, Moon was the one to sigh in annoyance. You knew to them you were probably just being a pain in the ass, an inconvenience. But you could not risk going to a hospital and having it ruin everything.

“Sun, go get them,” Moon said gruffly.

Sun met Moon’s gaze briefly, and you could tell there was a secret conversation happening. It made you just a touch nervous. Sun rose to his feet whilst Moon approached where you lay.

“Get who? Where are you going?” you asked, trying to sit up.

Blue and white digits settled on your shoulder, gently but firmly pushing you back down. “The manager keeps a stash of meds for emergencies. He probably won’t miss a few, and they might help with the pain and the fever.”

There was that paranoid part of your brain that suspected this may be a trick just to placate you, but you decided to trust them. You wanted to trust them with this much at least. You watched Sun leave the room, while Moon picked up a water bottle and held it to your lips. You cringed away out of reflex. In your line of profession, you’d been taught to never accept an open glass or bottle you hadn’t opened yourself or at least seen prepared.

“Drink,” Moon ordered. “Or I will carry you out of here and cart you to the hospital myself.”

You eyed him sullenly, unsure if he could and would actually deliver on that threat. You didn’t want to risk it and thus allowed him to tip some liquid into your mouth. The water felt good on your parched throat and even better as it slid down into your empty belly. You drank a few more swallows before he seemed satisfied.

“Try to keep it down this time,” he muttered.

This time? Boy, you must really have been out of it. He took one of the damp washrags and began dabbing around your forehead and neck area. His touch was far more measured and deliberate than Sun’s you noticed, like he was worried he might accidentally break you. You released another sigh at how pleasant of relief the coolness was, wondering how the rag could stay wet against the inferno blazing on your skin. You really were a mess. You’d never wanted them to see you like this, so weak and pitiful.

“Why did you hide it?” Moon asked, his low gruff voice sounding… angry? Hurt? No, he was probably just irritated because of your stubborn refusal to accept professional medical treatment. “You could have told me. Us.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference, love,” you told him, honestly. “I still had to perform.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.” You say that bit with a hard bitterness, but your hand reached out to brush his arm. “I’m touched though. It sounds like you’re actually worried.”

A growl of static preluded his next words. “Of course I am.”

Oh… for a moment you were stunned speechless. But of course, there was no way he meant it the way you wished he would. Your being ill had been a risk to the establishment’s reputation. If you had fainted dead away in the middle of your performance, it would have caused an issue. You’re being here now was causing issues.

“I’ve got a little trick to help get rid of worries,” you said, a plan hatching in your brain. After all, you didn’t want to play favorites between the two of them, it would be terribly unfair.

“And what’s that?” he asked, his gaze suspicious but intrigued.

“Help me sit up?”

“You should be resting.”

“It’ll be only a moment, dearest.”

He sighed but decided to play along, surprisingly. His hand slid under your back and eased you up into a sitting position. You leaned on him so as not to sway. Glancing up, you lifted a hand and crooked your finger at him, beckoning him closer. If he knew what you were up to, he didn’t show it as he leaned down. Closer… closer… until you were able to take hold of his tie and lean up just enough to close that pesky gap. His sharpened teeth had a unique texture against your mouth, and you felt the hand on your back very subtly pull you closer before he suddenly jerked away.

Once more, his optics were shifting from red to black, as though his processors were having difficulties comprehending what just happened. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, little canary,” he growled.

“I always am,” you replied cheekily.

“Ahem.” The mock sound of a throat clearing attracted both of your gazes. Sun had returned.

With Moon’s help, you reclined back down on the sofa, his silken tie sliding from your grasp. Neither of them discuss what Sun just walked in on, but you wondered if maybe you just couldn’t hear it, or perhaps it was a discussion that would be saved for later when your ears weren’t present. A shame, you would have liked a bit of feedback. You supposed you’d just have to settle for the fleeting moments of reciprocation.

Sun approached you with a couple of small pills resting in his palm. “These should help.” Once more you were forced to accept assistance as he tipped the pills into your mouth, with Moon having you chase it with a few more drinks of water.

The rest of the night and morning passed with minimal chatter, as the pair of them insisted you save your strength and sleep. You acquiesced, though not before sneaking in a couple more teasing remarks about them just wanting to watch you sleep. You don’t know if anyone else was privy to your presence in their room, but no one, save for them, ever intruded upon you while you rested. At one point, you awoke to find Sun absent and Moon was in the corner. He was sat up, but his eyes were blank and a cord was sticking out of his back. He was… charging? You couldn’t help but stare, in awe of how vulnerable he seemed, and even more so he’d be willing to be in such a state with you there.

Searching around, you found your bag resting nearby and snagged it. From inside you pulled out a pocket watch, and it read that it was midmorning. The cabaret would be closed. Perfect time for you to sneak out. You still felt hot, and tired, and a bit winded, but some of your energy had trickled back. You could make it to the bus station, you could make it home. Much as you hated leaving without a word, you worried Sun and Moon might not let you leave in your current condition, and you didn’t want to raise suspicion with your watchdog/landlord by being unexpectedly absent for too long.

Still, you decided it couldn’t hurt to take a couple of souvenirs. You wrapped Sun’s jacket around your shoulders and shuffled over to where Moon sat. His shirt and suspenders were undone, and his tie had been set aside. You picked it up and pocketed it. Before you made your escape, perhaps it was only fair you left something behind in exchange.

You removed your set of star-shaped earrings, setting them down in place of the tie. One for each of them. A small ‘thank you’ for them taking such wonderful care of you. Slipping out of the room, you took care not to run into anyone as you snuck out the back doors and into the brisk morning, the sunlight far too bright after the pleasant dimness of their bedroom. You made your way to the bus stop, hoping the boys won’t be terribly sour about your sudden departure. You’d find a way to make it up to them. They wouldn’t be rid of you that easily.

#fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #moon x y/n #moon x reader #sun x reader #sun x y/n #fnaf security breach #sun and moon #cabaret au #justfangirlwritings #sun /moon x y/n #sun/moon x reader #dca fanfic

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doumadono · 6 months

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My dearest friend. Now, it's my turn to place an emergency request. I'm in an emotionally abusive relationship and have no way out at present. I'm stuck away from home with nowhere to go and not even a career to fall back onto.

When I go out for my evening walks, I always stare at the moon, imagining that my beloved Kokushibo rescues me from it all. And....that's my request: being rescued by Upper Moon One.

Please take your time as this is simply an aggrevation of years and years of a chronic condition. And feel free to change the reason for me being rescued if the real-life reason is too confronting. Lysm 💞💞💞

A/N: My dear friend, I'm truly sorry to hear about the difficult situation you find yourself in. Yet, you have the strength to overcome this, and brighter days are ahead. Don't lose hope, and keep moving forward ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

In the eerie stillness of the night, as you gazed at the moon's pale glow during your evening walks, you held onto a secret wish. A yearning that transcended reality, a longing for escape from the torment of your emotionally abusive relationship. Little did you know, the universe had other plans.

One fateful evening, as you wandered along your familiar path, your eyes fixated on the moon's silvery visage. The world around you seemed to fade away, and you whispered a silent plea to the heavens.

As your heart poured its anguish into the night, the moonlight shimmered and swirled, forming an ethereal gateway. The air around you grew heavy, laden with an eerie presence. You stumbled back in awe and trepidation as a figure emerged from this otherworldly portal.

It was Kokushibo. His cold, yellowish irises bore into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Dressed in his distinctive kimono, he radiated power and a kind of dark beauty that was both captivating and terrifying.

Without a word, Kokushibo extended a pale hand, beckoning you to him. His voice, like a haunting melody, echoed in your ears. "Come with me, and leave your suffering behind. I've been keeping an eye on you for quite a while."

As you took his hand, you felt a surge of otherworldly energy coursing through your veins. The two of you ascended into the night sky, leaving your earthly troubles behind.

The journey with Kokushibo through time and space was an astonishing blur of wondrous sights and sensations. It happened so swiftly that it was difficult to process every detail, but what remained etched in your memory was its breathtaking beauty.

As the journey with Kokushibo came to a sudden halt, you opened your eyes, having squeezed them shut to shield yourself from the overwhelming beauty of your cosmic voyage. When your vision cleared, you found yourself in a room that contrasted starkly with the celestial expanse you had just traversed.

This new space was intimate and warm, with wooden walls that exuded a comforting, earthy scent. The wooden floors felt solid and familiar beneath your feet. A single futon was laid out, inviting and cozy, offering respite after your ethereal adventure. The room held a few decorative items, their presence adding a personal touch to the space. On the wooden walls, you noticed intricate designs and patterns that seemed to tell a story of their own.

You gazed up at the tall, enigmatic demon, shivers running down your spine as you stood in that wooden room. You couldn't help but ask the question that had been burning in your mind since your arrival, "Where am I?"

Kokushibo, Upper Moon One, regarded you with those penetrating thee pairs of yellowish eyes. His voice was both commanding and reassuring as he spoke, "You are in your new home, a sanctuary where you can feel safe. You don't have to worry here. I'm not here to hurt you. I've heard your pleas for many nights," he confessed, his words carrying the weight of the countless moments you had looked up to the moon, seeking solace. "I listened as you prayed to the heavens and even the depths of hell for help. And it seems," he continued, "the second one, the one from the depths of darkness, was the one to respond. You see, little human, sometimes the answers to our deepest desires come from unexpected places, in forms we could never have imagined." His words hung in the air, carrying a profound truth about the mysterious and often unpredictable nature of life's responses to our fervent calls for help.

Curiosity burning within you, you couldn't help but ask the question that weighed on your mind. "What am I going to be doing here?" you inquired, your voice quivering with anticipation.

Kokushibo met your gaze with a knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "You," he began, "will become my apprentice. Here, I will teach you everything there is to know about vengeance."

A small, determined smile crept onto your lips as you nodded in response. This was the very opportunity you had dreamt of, the chance to learn the means of retribution and take vengeance on the person who had inflicted so much pain upon you. The thought of turning the tables and finding a way to reclaim your power filled you with a renewed sense of purpose. With Kokushibo's guidance, you would embark on a path to reshape your own fate and confront the source of your deepest wounds.

#emergency request #kokushibo #kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kokushibou x reader #upper moon one #upper moon one x reader #upper moons x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kokushibo x you

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

Text

plotting circles

what can a little drink or two ever do?

nothing. absolutely nothing — given you promise to be fine with the alcohol catalysing an eleventh-hour alteration to a decision you never imagined deviating from - until you do...

well, a chalked-out life, sans any curveball, is boring, anyways.

‣ gojo satoru x fem! reader; established relationship; clubs; drinking; wedding; eloping; fluff and angst

‣ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

‣ based on this ask. gif, divider and characters aren't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

the speakers are blaring. the lights are glaring. and you're stranded in the midst of everything - akin a fish out of water.

eyes squinting, you try to find a familiar in the sea of club-goers from your position a little away from the dance floor, before a known blond head, neatly parted, swims into your area of vision. you find a gram of relief, the first time since you received the call.

"hey, sorry for waking you up," nanami apologizes on reaching you. a strong scent of alcohol wafts off the man - fighting back a grimace, you send him a reassuring look. "it's okay, kento. it's not even eleven now. i was awake when you called; speaking of which..." trailing off, your gaze travels over the throng then back to him, exasperation melting away every other emotion as you ask, "where is he?"

a guilty look settles over your friend's features. "where the drinks are being served. yu and suguru are there too."

a tired sigh escapes you. of fucking course, drinks are involved in this mess. nodding a thanks, you begin to move towards your destination - then stop when nanami speaks up again. "please don't be too harsh on him... he has got his reasons."

slightly dumbfounded at nanami's newfound support for a person he claims to vehemently dislike, you simply send him a small smile and walk over to the counter where - sure enough, you find the reason of your woes sitting, throwing back what looks like a shot of a sparkling liquid.

bloody hell!?!?

"gojo," the name rolls off your tongue like a caustic alkali - bitter and burning. said man swivels his head to the left and right, then spins his entire body behind - eyes widening at your sight. another swear falls past your lips as you take note of his appearance - flushed cheeks, glassy gaze, shades nowhere to be seen...

suguru returns a grin to your inquiring look, before exiting the scene hastily, an arm around haibara as he drags your snoring friend away - presumably to where you left nanami standing.

a large warm hand grasping yours snaps your focus on them two, and you look back to find a pair of blue eyes peering at you, welling over with unshed moisture. you look back, eyes widened in concern and confusion, whilst your former vexation chips away in bits and pieces.

"'toru-" you begin, volume dropping to a mere whisper - only to be cut off by a mirthless chuckle from the person opposite. a finger placed on your lips, he asks in a choked voice, "you know i don't quite agree with alcohol, don't you? but do you know why, despite that, i insisted on drinking tonight?"

this man has always been dramatic as hell but tonight... tonight, something seems to be different in his airs. the despair, the dejection peeking from the depths of those two blue eyes - always so bright, so cheery, so bubbly - leave you in a disconcertment of sorts.

cradling his cheek in your free hand, you offer him a listless nod, gaze raking over his features in search of a trace of any bodily discomfort.

sure, the world's strongest sorcerer, currently teetering on the brink of crying before you, does annoy you to the very ends of this world at times, yet... you can never bring yourself to be that mad or upset at him to wish him any form of unease.

pressing a tiny kiss to the hollow of your palm kept against his cheek, gojo lets go of your other hand to pull you flush, chest to chest. face flooded with warmth and colour, you gape at him.

leaning forwards, the man rests his forehead on yours, and whispers, tiny puffs of his breath (fruit-smelling, you realize, fond and grateful) grazing your cupid's bow, "it reminded me of you. your hatred to the stench of alcohol. to the taste of alcohol. to the very stuff of alcohol. sounds like a good revenge for you turning me down, yeah?"

a beat passes - or two - wherein your brain processes the confession and registers it - before a disbelieving chuckle spills forth your lips.

yeah, you can never - not even in your wildest dreams - stay mad or upset for long at this dumb-as-fuck man-child currently tracing the curve of your spine from over your pyjamas. you're way too much in love with him for that.

"it sure does," you hum, carding your fingers through his soft white locks. gojo gives a pretty audible purr under your ministrations. the bartender and a couple of patrons cast you two a strange look - you pay them no mind as you continue, "but don't you think tonight's the wrong time for your revenge? a night when i won't be near you for long to truly suffer from your masterplan? a night when i'm, in fact, not even allowed to see you, let alone be in your arms this way?"

the man's brows furrow in contemplation while he mulls over your brows. stifling a coo at how utterly cute he looks deep in thought, you continue running your fingers through his hair. quite a long second passes in this manner - before he looks up again, a wide grin splitting his face into two. you raise an eyebrow in silent question.

"we're getting married tomorrow, yeah?" he asks. you give a slow nod in affirmation, wondering where this conversation is going. "yeah, we are. the ceremony's starting at eleven in the morning."

"so, tonight's the night before the big day. the night when we aren't allowed to meet and stuff... yeah?"

"yeah..." you give an even slower nod this time. dragging you into his lap, gojo inquires with a grin like a cheshire cat, "your family owns this luxury resort, don't they? do you think this little rendezvous of ours will go unreported to your clan elders?"

the second hand on your watch ticks once - and a long groan leaves you as the realization - no wait, two realizations crash upon your weary self.

one, this wasn't some cliché revenge plan where the main character drowned his mountains of sorrows in a bottle of vodka. this was a top-notch conspiracy hatched by people you thought you could trust.

two, your fiancé is better at persuading people (he roped in nanami of all people!!) than he gets credit for.

yet... despite recognizing these two facts... as said before, you find you can't really be upset or mad at the love of your life for long.

biting back the smile threatening to bloom across your face, you ask, or rather, state, "you weren't that drunk as you seemed to be, were you?"

"wrong, i was," gojo corrects, waggling a finger in front of your face; you resist the urge to bite it, "or else you would've seen through the ruse - my mochi is the smartest, after all - but yeah, i wasn't for long. i nullified it all by my reverse cursed technique the second i got you in my arms."

ohh... this is why...

and here you were thinking why he isn't waxing yet another one of his terribly slurred yet terribly endearing ballads of his love for you... the way he does, minimum once, each and every time he has drunk till date.

a thumb gently rubbing the corner of your lips breaks you free from your mind and you look up at gojo. "so, to save you from the lectures waiting for you tomorrow - those stupid traditions too - why don't we just elope, hm? me and you?" the latter suggests with a smug smirk.

the plan sounds tempting, extremely so - still, you open your mouth, ready with a counter-argument - only for your fiancé to beat you to it. smirk simmering down to a tender curve of pink lips, he says, "plus, you've always wanted to elope, haven't you?"

you open your mouth a second time, this time to brush it away, citing the higher-ups' demands, when the man adds, "don't worry about your clan or my clan elders, i'll protect you."

you grow unmoving under his heavy words and light touch.

tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, he continues, "just be honest to me, sweet cheeks – an extravagant destination wedding isn't really what you want. it's running away and getting hitched, isn't it? something to do with the adventure or thrill or freedom... isn't that what you always used to tell me when we were younger?"

a moment passes before you nod weakly - throat too clogged with emotions (he remembers even this? fuck, how did you ever get so lucky to get a partner like him?) to utter a word as you attempt to keep your tears at bay.

you fail miserably.

vision growing blurry rapidly, a watery chuckle leaves you. "okay, fine. let's elope," you mumble, placing your head on his chest, right at the spot where his heart beats, "but only if you agree to one condition."

"what condition, princess?" gojo hums.

"you won't be the only one protecting me from those old bastards; i wanna protect you too. let's just protect each other, 'kay?"

the thumb wiping your tears away stills over the apple of your cheek - and you look up to find your fiancé stare at you, an indecipherable emotion swimming in his eyes. you beam up at him. "deal?"

gojo's reply arrives in the form of a long, deep, loving kiss pressed to your lips, followed by a flurry of kisses all over your face, leaving you a giddily giggling, madly blushing mess of a bride-to-be — though, one must note, a much freer, much happier one than before — and in not twelve long hours but in much less (yet too long, your lover whines) a time than that.

[the next morning, one of your personal maids nearly kicks open the doors to the large breakfast hall as she dashes to where your parents, in-laws and friends are and places on the table—

it's a photo - of you in your sleepwear being bridal-carried by gojo in a pretty decent outfit, a short veil cascading down till your shoulders as the two of you grin at the camera, eyes crinkled and cheeks dimpled.

shoko is the first to recover from the shock.

or, maybe, she wasn't shocked at all.

placing an outstretched palm before suguru, whose staggered eyes are still fixed on the piece of film, she says, "told you she'll say yes ultimately, didn't i? now pay up, loser."]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fics #jjk imagines #gojo drabbles #gojo fics #gojo imagines #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kit posts 📝

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