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bvnnywrites · 8 months

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Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 1: Apple of His Eye

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I've said before, English isn't my first language, so this would e fun. Hehe. I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys hehehehe. I'm posting this on both Tumblr and Ao3. Who knows, the story on the other site would be different hm...? I'm not telling when, but hehe. Also, reader is in her twenties, specifically 22, so yayeet. If you don't like how fucked up this story is gonna get then please turn around and go on your merry way. I'll be posting the first chapter here on Tumblr because jesus, my ao3 invitation has yet to arrive. Also, don't forget to write comments, I need feedback because I eat them like it's groceries-

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

WHENEVER A CERTAIN COLONEL PASSES BY the soldiers would grow quiet, as if he’s sucking the joy with him and then the chatter would continue once his thundering footsteps would fade away into quietness.

A silence would hang over the air for a brief moment – like they’re making sure the danger has passed before proceeding – and the soldiers would continue to chat once they're sure it was safe to proceed. Babbling away but their voices would be a bit hushed, as if their ears were on the lookout for the colonel’s presence.

The colonel was absolutely – you remember his name being König because you saw him score several shots using a sniper rifle in training – wholeheartedfuckingly terrifying.

König strides confidently across the battlefield and KorTac base of Operations in the same damn manner—Arrogant, egotistical, prideful. The mountain of a man walks in like he owns the place, and troops would be so relieved if they see him in the battlefield because they know that he'd be able to turn the tides to their favor.

And the fucker knows it. He knows people look up at him. Looking at him like the fucking messiah that would save them right then and there.

He relished in it.

And he was so fucking gigantic as he is muscular too, to the point his huge hands could definitely crush your head with his fingers if he saw fit. To say he was a Greek God was insulting. No, he was like Kronos.

Destructive.

All-devouring force.

Whenever you stood too close to him—even tho you recall not stepping too close to the colonel because you wanted to respect the five-foot rule for everyone lest they give you the go signal to hog their personal space like Izzy does—you can see the way his muscles would bulge whenever he tightened his fists, or how the veins on his arms were so… alluring, and holy shit he has scars. Battle scars that should've repulsed you but you find yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers.

His form is almost mesmerizing—like how you'd imagine Fenrir slaying Odin from one of the Norse Myths.

However, like Fenris Wolf, he too was bound and shackled to base. Most of the time, at least. You would see him buried and drowning and several paperwork when you go to his office while Roze waited for you by the door.

And you could see his baby blue eyes squint and conjure a glint of annoyance as you hand him your report. He has pretty eyes, that colonel. He doesn’t speak to you, always uttering grunts or huffs. Dismissing you with a wave of his hand—always gestures but never talking.

It reminds you of gray skies and blue muted waters, and sometimes they seemed vibrant when you hear the sinister glee in his voice of bashing an enemies head open like how watermelon breaks – and then he'd look at you and you'd immediately avert your gaze because oh god that would be so fucking awkward if your superior had caught you staring at his eyes like a creep.

As mentioned before, König is mostly quiet, and you didn't really hear him talk since he never talked to you at all. In the battlefield, when he barked out orders, gunfire would drown them and those closest to him would relay the message on to the others.

Lieutenant Izzy – Izanami actually, but she preferred being called Izzy – always spoke in Japanese, but she can speak a few broken English words. She didn’t seem to see you as a liability, often asking you out to grab lunch with her and Captain Roze. The white-haired girl always made sure you never missed your meals, and if you did, she’d make sure to hand you some MREs for the sake of making sure you’re taken care of.

She said to you once, “Be careful of that colonel, he is… what is English word that for… word you use when object is not good to you—harms life.”

“You mean dangerous?” Roze would correct her. “We really need to work on your English, girl.”

“Yes, that the word I’m looking for.” Izzy would laugh. “ローズ先輩、訂正してくれてありがとう。”

Roze, on the other hand, was more closed off. She was ruthless and strict, but you’re convinced that she cares about you the same way Izzy does because she gets this soft glint in her eyes when you tell her that you forgot to eat or missed lunch. Then five seconds later you’d feel an MRE smacking you on the chest, and Roze is barking at you for being stupid enough to not eat and say you’re lucky that her and Izzy are looking out for you.

But you can tell that both are highly protective of you, like older sisters making sure their youngest sibling didn't fuck up on missions or get hung by their rib by enemy soldiers.

Whenever the colonel passed by, you remember Roze’s words “Keep your gaze down” because apparently there was an incident where König had beaten the shit out of a recruit because the poor thing looked at him funny. Something about the recruit scrunching his face in disgust at the colonel or was it because he had mocked him behind his back?

Either way, the kid was beaten to a pulp.

The colonel was never given a court martial, however, since he had been able to pull rank it seems. Roze was the one who told you during lunch, voice in a hushed whisper.

Then your thoughts wander back to the nightly horror stories your soldiers would tell to one another. You had a habit of visiting them before making sure they all slept on curfew time. It was fun and it helped boost morale amongst the troops. It also helped that you were a younger lieutenant, so you were able to easily connect to your platoons’ humor and quip remarks.

You remember the hushed whispers in the barracks, each of them uttering stories of what König might look like beneath the mask.

You often thought maybe he looks so mutilated that it resembles Nemesis from Resident Evil or maybe Salvatore on the Village Version. But you've seen the pretty blue eyes König possessed and you just know that deep down, he was a handsome man.

Sure, he was old enough to be your dad, had a huge ass age gap that's wider than the forehead of the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces you had previously worked with due to König being forty-five years old, but you'll admit a pretty man if you see one.

However, your soldiers' claims were way more hilarious as they spoke. Each sounding absurd and stupid than the last.

"I heard he has three faces, like the demon Asmodeus. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he's a prince of Hell in disguise. Have you seen his body? What I'd give to climb him like a tree."

"I could've sworn I saw worms underneath. Kind of like maybe a maggot-infested lower jaw since I heard the skin of his jaw had been burnt off."

"I think he has the face only a mother could love. Men like that exist."

You had grown up in a small town, people believing heavily in superstitious beliefs. However, once you've left said small town, you realize that they were silly things that old people simply uttered into the wind.

"Did you know a psychic said I would get murdered when I was ten?" You laughed at the absurdity of it all, wanting to add some scary shit of your own.

"Really, L.T?" One of your soldiers said. "Oh, this has to be good!"

“Yeah. I remember she was very old, and if I were correct, I think she moved from Hallstatt? Wherever the fuck that is.”

You told them the stupid little story. How you lost twenty dollars to a fraud only for them to say you'll get murdered, and how it spooked you as a kid and made you all paranoid only to realize you just got scammed out of your money.

"The thing that will kill you is hiding its face. The thing that will kill you has its crown scraping the ceiling. The thing that will kill you has sharpened teeth. The thing that will kill you will charm you with its glamor and false promises. The thing that will kill you will devour you with its appendages and fill you with its seed. The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

The soldiers all laughed, including you, after you've said it in the most croaked voice as you mimicked the old psychic.

You've never laughed so hard in your whole life, but you were glad that it was your troops that were with you and not stuck up stoic alpha male soldiers. It wasn't real, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

All of you got along.

Sure, most of the soldiers given to you were teens – because the military was just hiring eager and stupid kids, and by God you were going to protect these little shits with your life – but it was fine because they had you. For as long as you live, you promised yourself you'd make sure they were all safe.

And you took them under your wing and you feel bad because they were kids compared to you. They shouldn't be here dressing up as soldiers and being sent off to war zones with you. These kids were supposed to be at home, where they could be safe, and worrying about teen stuff. But then again, KorTac was a company at the end of the day.

A Private Military Company—basically just glorified mercenaries at this point.

Of course, they would exploit anyone who is willing to serve for their country while also getting paid generously compared to being in a government affiliated military—Hell, you're here, aren't you? Why? Because they can be greedy fucks and capitalism exists, and KorTac rivals Disney in terms of being a well-known PMC in the military world, and you're broke.

Not to mention that the BAS – Basic Allowance for Subsistence – was fucking higher in KorTac than the government affiliated military you used to serve in. A BAS rate of seven hundred sixty-two point sixty-nine euros for enlisted members, while officers are given the same but with an increased rate of four hundred ninety-seven point fifty- eight euros is better than the current BAS.

You also get the average of six thousand and seven hundred eighty-two euros at an average per month here in KorTac. The pay is way fucking better and you can save up money to the point you were able to pay off your own student and credit card debts and leave your parents' nest since you were basically loaded at this point.

Money was enough to blind you from the dangers that lurked beneath the still waters that run deep that is KorTac.

"The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

“Did you hear what happened?”

“What?”

“Another soldier went missing again.”

Captain Stiletto changed her mags, examining her scope as she spoke to you with a calm voice—as if she hadn’t just dropped the news of someone going missing. Again. You were ready to hear which recruit was unlucky enough to be whisked away and never to be seen again. That or they turn up mutilated and scared, and the poor things won’t even talk. However, a missing rookie suddenly turns up out of nowhere after months of disappearing without a trace was statistically low.

No, really, it would be low—unusual at best.

The best way to analyze it would be using the Bayesian Inference, and using a probability model to express the uncertainty towards the situation. In this case, using a binary variable would be ideal, $Y$, to represent the outcome whether the missing rookie ever did turn up or not. $Y$ = 1 if the rookie is found, and $Y$ = 0 if the rookie isn’t found.

Then assume that the probability of finding said missing rookie is equal to the proportion of all missing persons who are eventually found. As evidence becomes available, then update the model with that evidence and compute the posterior distribution for the probability of finding the rookie.

In this case, if one of the higher ups discovered the rookie all pale and shaking and are obviously had been terrified to fucking death, the information in that scenario could be used to update the posterior distribution, taking into account that the probability that the rookie had seen something scary in that location, if they were ever found that is.

Once the model with all available evidence has been updated, the posterior distribution to make predictions of the probability of finding the new recruit can now be used. The officers tasked with finding them—at least those who hasn’t given up—will be able to find them within a certain time frame or calculate the probability that they’re are found alive or dead.

Just some basic statistics you’ve learned in ninth grade, that’s all. Or at least from what you can remember.

The scar that ran down the captain’s face was evident like the blood smeared in your hands when you’ve killed an enemy. No one knew why there was a huge damage to her face or why it was there in the first place. You’ve only been in KorTac for a month, almost everyone you’ve met have given you warnings and it was all the same—keep your distance from the colonel. You have half a mind to say “Fuck this” but the pay was good.

Not to mention your contract hasn’t been finished yet and you doubt you’d find a good paying job like this while doing what you love.

“Who was it?” You dared to ask.

Stiletto looks away for a moment, before turning back to you. “Private O’Neil.”

Your eyes widened at the information. You don’t know the person, but to hear a private going missing was surprising. Usually, it was the recruits who disappeared for the most part or at least from your observation in your stay here. Now that’s very strange.

“Huh… a Private? How come it wasn’t a rookie?”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.”

Stiletto responds with the same confusion as you, her lips pursed. She looks worried, unsure to react.

“The colonel had been tasked to investigate the missing cases, but even he isn’t getting any answers.” The captain says, her face troubled. “It’s like there’s a serial killer at base.”

“Like playing Mafia, huh.” You joked.

“Exactly.”

You’re scared of what this could mean. If whoever it was plucking the recruits off like grapes were about to turn to privates, then it won’t be long before your ass is on the line. You have half a mind to help, maybe offer your insights on the investigations, but thanks to Roze and Izzy’s advice, you knew better than to get too close to the colonel…

Unless you want to get beaten by König with your incompetency—what he deems incompetency—since he loves doing things his way according to the soldiers who had worked with him.

It wasn’t enough to scare the rookies, however. They’re still chatty and happy, all of them seemed unaffected by these rumours.

Of course, they’d be unaffected, everyone is telling them that it’s just rumours and the soldier that disappeared had simply been discharged for wanting to leave or go back home. There were a few who didn’t believe it, but those with higher ranks – including you – were reassuring them that it was merely rumours.

That they shouldn’t really worry their pretty little minds about it. And what infuriated you the most was because it worked. They were gullible kids, as young as sixteen to nineteen—basically a six to three years old age gap between you and them. They should know better than to believe the honeyed words from yours or their superiors’ mouth.

But could you even blame them?

They’re just kids. You and the other high-ranking officers were older than them, obviously they would trust you. They expect all of you to guide them, showing them the real ropes of war and violence unlike the trial sessions they’ve had in boot camp and the infantry.

So, really the blame was on every high ranking official—including you.

Everyone from being a specialist to the general of the army were losing their shit over these incidents because KorTac was supposed to promote opportunity and valour, but how can you do that if your fellow soldiers – doesn’t matter what rank they are – are going missing like some monster was plucking them off of their rooms one by one or rather off of the hallways when they’re past curfew.

Curfew falls under your responsibility too, sergeants up to lieutenant colonels were tasked to make sure that every rookie or corporal has to be following the curfew or rather their curfew. KorTac had implemented the curfew for the rookies up to the corporals’ weeks prior to your official employment according to Roze.

The last thing the people who called the shots wanted was a widespread panic amongst their troops.

“Do you have any hunch as to who it might be?” You asked her curiously, wanting to know the captain’s thoughts.

“It could be that newbie before you, Phillip Graves, but he’s mostly out on missions. So, that checks him out.” Stiletto answered, looking at you. “Then there could be the possibility of it being Horangi.”

“Why him?”

“He’s too violent.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Stiletto laughs at your response, shaking her head as if you’re being silly. The captain was nice, in your opinion at least. She pats you back lightly like an aunt would when you remind her of your mom when they were younger. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, one where it makes you wonder just how exactly does Stiletto see you—a daughter, sister or maybe a friend. Either way, you were in her good graces and that’s enough to quell your curiosities for now.

The two of you were practicing alone in the firing range. Those at the lower ranks had gone to sleep or were forced to sleep since it was curfew for them.

The atmosphere had gone heavy.

It was light and cheery in the morning, but at night, the happiness and laxness of the vicinity disappears, and you and the rest of the soldiers with a higher rank are faced with the reality that someone was picking off all of you one by one like candies inside your granny’s bowl of strawberry candy that you don’t see anywhere in the grocery store.

You know, the one’s you get when one day you became a grandma – or great-aunt, or even an honorary old “auntie” – and these things just magically appear at the bottom of your purse. The ones that once they start spilling out of your bag, you’ll find an intricate cut-glass bowl or dish in the middle of your living room and your grandkids or kids would just come and go while pocketing a handful of them, and the refill is somehow always in your purse.

Stiletto hands you a rosary from her pocket. You looked at the long wooden beads coated with silver chains and designs before glancing at the captain. You took it gently, letting the coolness of the holy object cool your skin that wraps around it. Oh, it’s a sweet gesture. Now you have something to wear around your neck, a little good luck charm despite the fact that you don’t really believe in God or a higher being. Her head is tilted to the side, looking at you with an analysing glance as silence befalls the two of you.

“Why…?” You asked her underneath the fluorescent lights of the firing range, riffles forgotten at each other’s side.

Stiletto shrugs, sighing tiredly, “Maybe the thing that’s picking us off one by one would be scared of the Lord.”

“I doubt he exists.”

“He’ll save you in your time of need. He answered my prayers. Maybe He’ll answer yours too.”

“What did you pray for?”

Stiletto is quiet for a moment, looking away before looking back at you with worry. She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“That you would still be alive the next time I see you… that you wouldn’t be next, lieutenant.”

“You’re the lieutenant that Horangi had referred to the company, ja?”

A voice says with a German accent to it, and by Mary, Joseph, and the Babeh Jesus what an alluring voice he has. It was low and rough, a tad bit raspy—gravelly. You thought to yourself that if you were Persephone and you heard this voice coaxing you into the warm embrace of the Underworld, you too would have cartwheeled and backflipped into Hades’s lap. Leaving the nymphs and the flowers, and the warm sun to drown in the enticing embrace of the God of Death while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

You turned around, half a mind to fuck the brains out of this man until you saw who was speaking to you and all horniness came to a halt as you realized who it was.

König.

You glanced directly at his eyes briefly before averting you gaze, Roze’s warning echoing in your head. You nod your head, confirming his question. You tell him your name and rank, which country you came from, and basically any general information you can tell to confirm your identity. Konig nods his head at your words. His eyes crinkled—was he smiling underneath the sniper hood?—and you can hear a smug tone on his voice.

“Ja, leutnantin, I’ve read your files.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes glanced to the side, seeing some soldiers chattering at the end of the hall. Good. There are people around. A polite smile blossoms on your face, offering it to the colonel – just like you would whenever you bump into a senior officer. Your mind raced why he was suddenly talking to you.

HE BARELY RESPONDED SO WHY WAS HE SUDDENLT BEING A CHATTER BOX?! You internally panicked since he often responded in hums or grunts whenever you give your report, didn’t even glance at you whenever the two of you passed by each other.

So, why now?

“Did you need something, sir?” You asked him politely, tilting your head a little as you crane your head to look at him properly because holy shit, he’s so fucking tall.

“I do, actually, Schatz.” König responds, cold eyes gazing down at your smaller form. “I need your help with a… serious matter. Come with me to my office.”

His strides are big and long as you struggled to keep up with him as he walked down the halls. Your eyes glued to his massive thighs… and oh. The soldiers within the halls part like the sea as König passed by as if he was Noah. They all lower their gaze, chattering going to a halt until only the sound of the storm raging outside can be heard.

“So, why do we need to go to your office?”

But König doesn’t answer, and his hands balled to a fist. You can see the cloth crinkle as his grip dug into his palms, while he ignores your question. Which is, in a way, rude since you were simply trying to gouge out information as to why your colonel was summoning you to his office. You furrowed your brows at his actions.

“It’s the least I should know, don’t you think–”

“Are you always so noisy?”

You blinked owlishly at his words, the colonel barely looking or glancing at you as he continued to walk down the halls of KorTac. Your breath hitches in your throat as you register the slight annoyance in his voice.

He finally looks at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs. And oh god, his laugh. The mere sound of it makes your cheek warm and make both of your lips smile.

“The look on your face earlier is funny, Schatz. However, you’re a lieutenant, no? I’m sure that despite how young you are, you’re mature enough to know that there are classified things that can only be discussed within the confines of an office, ja?”

“I’m sorry, colonel. I didn’t mean to let it slip off of my head.”

You feel like winning the lottery, but the prize isn’t a billion bucks—it’s the fact that you haven’t angered the colonel, and he’s not bashing your head to the pavement or maybe stabbing you where you stand and tearing your flesh with his gloved hands.

You don’t notice the guilt that settles on your face… nor the look of softness and endearment on König’s face as he admires the look of culpability blossoms on you face.

The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with such an adorable shyness when you think that he would actually reprimand you for something so innocent. You were so little compared to him too, so fragile… so weak. He relishes in this power over you—power over your reactions and your expressions. You looked so eager to stay on his good side. So eager to please him in your own innocent way. Whether you intentionally do it or not, König is being pumped full of dopamine at just you talking to him.

He's had his eye on you for a long while. The moment you stepped foot on base, beneath the scorching sun of the tarmac, König wanted nothing more than to snatch you and make you his. Drag you away from KorTac, smuggle you to Austria and lock you away in his house by the sea shore, away from prying eyes.

Where he can have you all to himself.

But even his rank and reputation in KorTac couldn’t save or excuse his behaviour if he does that. Everyone would think he was a freak or someone creepy if he were to ever just scoop you up. The way your voice echoes when you bark out your orders to those inferior to you, the way it softens when you talk to your friends – especially to Horangi, and König s gnawing at the cages of his enclosure because he wished you would talk to him the way you would to Horangi.

He wants to talk again without addressing you formally, but he is awkward with connecting to people. Even when he tried to follow his psychiatrist’s advice in trying to open up to people, König still has a hard time trying to initiate a conversation. The words piling up in his throat—stuck there for the rest of eternity.

König doesn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the strong urge to grab yours—so tiny and adorable—and let his giant hand envelope it. You are pouting, gaze averted to the ground, cheek rosy from embarrassment, probably reprimanding yourself that you should’ve known better.

König isn’t sure if he wants you to be scared of him or not – and he hates that you are the first one to be an exception to his desires, because he wanted everyone to fear him. There is something dark, disgustingly predatory almost, in his thoughts as he watched you beat yourself up, but he doesn’t speak, and his fists are balled up because your voice and adorable face were too fucking much and he doesn’t even know how to talk to a girl in his adult years.

“C-colonel, we’re here.”

You hate that you stutter, but you can’t help it since your heart skipped a beat when you looked up and saw König looking at you with such softness and tenderness from his gigantic height. You had to take a deep breath, shaking your head at the delusion it’s not a delusion, you aren’t seeing things runnin in your head.

No.

That was wrong. That idea in itself would be wrong. The colonel was someone wise despite his violent tendencies. He would never entertain the idea of being with a fellow soldier. Not to mention bend the rules just to risk his position and rank. It would be stupid for him. It wouldn’t be worth it for him, and you just fucking know it.

“Ah… right. Bitte, wait a minute.”

You can see how miniscule the keys are to his hand, his form bending down a little and when he stood back up, he was at least three inches taller than the fucking doorway. He turns the lights on and gestures for you to step in. He closed the door behind you as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his gigantic desk.

The desk looked proportionate to his form, and the office chair he has accommodates him greatly and it makes your heart flutter because he looks like a king and all he had to do was give out his decree, and you would be scrambling to do said decree to please him because holy shit something about how big he is, is making your insides churn deliciously–

Wait. Bitch, you better stop. Your thoughts screeched to halt, smacking yourself internally because you’re sure you’re not yet in your ovulation week because you just finished your period four days prior… No, that’s not true, you lost track of your cycle due to the recent events that happened at base. The colonel was twiceyour size, and you’re not sure if you can take him.

Not in a fight, of course.

“So, about the recent events happening here at base, I’m sure you’re well aware of it by now.” König starts, leaning at the desk. “Soldiers are disappearing left and right, the younger ones wouldn’t take long before they stop buying our lies, and we need a way to stop whoever it is that is picking is off and making us drop like flies.”

He stopped, eyes roaming as if he’s analysing you.

“Hase, you are quite the prodigy that at such a young age you’ve managed to achieve the rank of lieutenant, and I am completely impressed.” König says, nodding to himself as if he’s proud of you. “Someone of your calibre would be of valuable help to catch the culprit or, rather, the creature that’s currently on the loose in base and hunting us one by one.”

“Creature? Don’t you mean person?”

“I’d like you to look at these and tell me that a human was behind these incidents.”

König slides you a dossier and you merely throw a confused glance at him before opening said dossier, and you almost–No. You do regret opening the fucking folder.

The entrails of the victims are chewed off and sprawled across the floor, the ground was a sea of blood. Some of them had missing parts, but mostly the torso was empty, intestines being the only thing left behind from the inside of the corpses, and there were a few where the eyes hangs out of its socket and runs down their faces like a veiny egg yolk. You want to look away, but you can’t. Some pictures showed the skins have been peeled off, most had been cleanly peeled off. Even the nipples were intact. Never to this day have you seen anything so horrible.

Finally, the urge to puke tore your attention away from the files, smacking it to the table as you swivelled your head away, and your mouth unhinged as the familiar disgusting liquid of your insides went past your throat. Before any of it could spill past your lips, a bucket had been shoved to catch it. König holds the bucket to your mouth. Meanwhile, you did nothing but vomit. Over and over again. Long after it seemed there was nothing more to bring up, you continued to vomit.

At last, after a good solid minute, you stopped. Tears prickled your face as puke-mixed snot went down your throat. König was kind enough to offer you tissues to help clean yourself up before he hands you a glass of water, and getting rid of your vomit.

“I’m sorry.” You weakly said. “That caught me off guard and I–” The words cut off in your thought as you shuddered as the pictures seared into your head. Well, guess this is my thirteenth reason.

“It’s fine, Schatz. Nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for someone to stomach such evidence.” He reassures you.

His giant hand rubs soothing circles on your back and it’s so comforting that you eventually calm down and catch your breath. The taste of bile still lingers and you downed glass after glass of water just to get rid of it but seemingly failing to do so. Yet it is nothing compared to the electrifying touch of König’s fingers that glide behind your back, passing by the wing ang hooks of your bra. Of course, he didn’t mean to do that he most definitely did intendes to do that because he was just trying to ease you out of your sickened state.

“I’m sorry.” You say again.

The pout on your lips was making you adorable and König was glad he was the way that he was right now. Had he been the same age as you, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would’ve pushed you down on his desk, giant hands spreading your legs, tearing your clothes, while he makes you beg for his cock–

“As I’ve said before, Schatz. It’s fine. We have to recompose ourselves from time to time. After all, we’re only human, no?”

You look up at him from where you seat, smiling softly at him. He was so nice. Your eyes flickered to his neck, and then on to his fingers. Seeing the lack of wedding band on him had you feeling butterflies. Was he not married? Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Was he ugly?

His baby blue eyes—like a mixture of storm grey skies and the heartless depths of the ocean—were a soft hint to the fact that he was handsome. You just know. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes scanned him over – in the most shameless manner, but that was fine. You can always chuck it up to you just analysing him.

“Now, Schatz.” His fingers wrapped around you chin, coaxing you gently to look up at him. “Lieutenant colonel Allard, Captain O’Neil, and I will be conducting a manhunt starting at 00:00 up until to 04:30 this Friday. Allard would be taking the North side of the base, I’ll be taking the South, and O’Neil would be taking the West area–”

You paid attention to every word he said, nodding your head every now and then. You kept your eyes locked to his, unaware of the growing tent inches away from your face in your colonel’s pants.

“–which is why I called you to my office.” His voice rips you out of your trance. “I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to lend out a hand in catching whatever it was that’s picking us off one by one?”

“Yes, sir.”

The way you responded with such speed had you internally clutching your pearls. You were so confused as to why you had agreed so easily without even asking for the details. Hopefully, your colonel would be kind enough to graciously brief you and the team before he sends you all out to play limbo with this culprit.

König smiles at your eagerness to help the team—to help him. The younger ones weren’t so eager like you; often having to be bribed with a reward just to help. But you? You said yes without any hesitation.

“Are you married, Schatz?”

“No, sir.”

“How come? Most female or male soldiers your age are married. Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t you?”

Your body tensed as your mind caught up with that loose mouth of yours, but before you could even stop yourself the words had already been uttered into the world. Holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of your superior needs to be fired. Like, bro, pick a different sim to fuck up. Please. You might’ve had the chance to be in his good graces, being offered promotion after promotion because König did say he’s read your files – he’s awfully touchy too, but maybe that’s because he’s comfortable around you. You might’ve had a chance of walking out the office, alive and healthy with nothing but a nod of a head and telling you to be prepared for the operation this upcoming Friday – but now you’ve said those words with such casualness that it doesn’t really suit the dynamic between you two, and could promptly land you to some punishments. You could–

The colonel chuckles, eyes closed as his shoulder’s shook, and the sound of it makes your cheeks flare with warmth.

“What gave it away, Schatz?”

Your body relaxed, seeing he wasn’t offended or irritated by your response.

“It’s uh… um, the lack of wedding ring, sir.”

“Oh? What an observant klein leutnantin.”

He looks at you, contemplating for a moment before König spoke.

“I have trouble finding a… suitable mate, if you will. Mutter often tells me that I’m a carbon copy of my father, which could explain why she’s so distant and hostile towards me. I don’t… I don’t know or saw the need to find a partner until… until recently.”

His gaze lands on you as he said the last two words. You furrowed your brows, wondering who or what could’ve changed his mind. With a tilt of your head to the side, you asked him a question that stems from his words.

“How come your mother hated you just because you looked like your father? You can’t exactly control your looks.”

“Because he was a monster who had forced himself on her, and forced her to carry his child – which would be me.”

Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t exactly expect the colonel to say it so casually, as if it’s a fun fact you’re telling to a kindergarten. You pursed your lips, looking away, feeling awkward and bad now that you had brought up the topic.

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t… know.” Was all you can muster.

“You seem to not know anything at all, Schatz.” He cooed at you. “It’s alright. You needn’t be sorry. How I was born is something I cannot control, but the outcome of who I can be is.”

König chuckles, walking over to pat your head affectionately and holy shit it has your heart racing.

“Growing up, the children my age shunned me. They had thrown rocks at me, calling me a monster. My mother did nothing to comfort me, dismissing me and shoving a sack to cover my face. I spent most times outside the house, often sleeping on caves by the waters or at the sand by the shore. The lake is something comforting, I must say… I miss it – yearn for it, if you will."

“Lake? Don’t you mean ocean?”

“My hometown was in Hallstatt Lake, Austria.”

His words ring a bell. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of Hallstatt Lake before. You tried to remember where you heard it, but couldn’t. Oh, well. If I can’t remember it, then it ain’t that important.

My father travelled from the ocean and dwelled by the lakes of that area. Then he saw mein mutter and... you know how that story went. Anyways, I have learned that I am… hideous. Therefore, that is one of the contributes as to why I am still, in your kind’s terms, single.”

“So you’ve never had partners before? Not even… I dunno… doing the devil’s tango? Sex?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, Schatz. They back out the last minute.”

You looked at him pitifully. He was a lonely man, wanting to have someone beside him and yet his self-esteem was so low. Maybe fucking him could boost his self-esteem. It’s not like I’m craving him, I’m simply helping. Maybe I could be the first to teach him the intimate touch of a woman. The comforts of the flesh. There was something about damaged men that are just so fucking hot. After all, it’s just a twenty-three years old age gap between König and I – Woah, what?! Pause. Your thoughts screeched to a halt, pinching yourself for letting it wander off that far.

How did it get to this?

How did the two of you get so comfortable to the point he’s literally just trauma dumping on you, and you’re lending an ear to listen. You should be walking out f the door, telling him this was unprofessional but you find yourself glued to the chair, heart going out to König as you empathize with him.

“I may not know what you look like under the mask, but mom did tell me that you can see if a person has a handsome or beautiful face is by looking at the shape of their eyes.”

“Oh? And what have you deduced from just observing my eyes, Schatz? Am I considered monstrous?”

“No, sir… I’d say you’re beautiful.”

König’s eyes widened at your words, his cheeks burning beneath the mask and he’s so fucking thankful that you can’t see his face or what he looks like underneath. His heart thumps louder than it did when he first saw you.

He is fighting the urge to invite you to move in with him to his quarters, keeping you all to himself. König’s sure that his bedroom is way more spacious and comfier than that of a lieutenant’s. The Austrian giant has to physically restrain himself from snatching you, and dragging you into the shadows with him where no one can rip you from his embrace – he can’t bear thinking about you being with someone else.

“Was it offensive… sir?”

“No, liebling. I just think you are blind.”

König would absolutely whisk you away right now. All you need to do was say the word, and he’d be following your words as if they are the ten commandments. He can and will buy you an estate if you want, just pick a place—preferably in Hallstatt, Austria—and that would be easy for him. König would love to just provide for you, to get to go home to someone as adorable and meek as you are – eager to succeed and be praised by the most little of things. You would be protected there. No one would ever disturb you.

His father was never there for his mother. Left nothing to support her other than trauma after he was hunted down by the townsfolk and brutally murdered. König tells himself that he would be different, that he would give you the world. You need only ask.

He understands that being delusional isn’t healthy, and that his psychiatrist would definitely shoot him with a Nerf gun for letting himself descend into this type of madness, but he was old.

And lonely.

And you’re just so sweet and so nice to him, going so far as to tell him he’s beautiful. And despite spending too much time in waters, König drowns himself in fantasies about you being in a giant house, welcoming him home after his deployment, pregnant and eager to kiss him sweetly. You who can be his everything. A cure for his troubles and woes, even though his psychiatrist had severely advised him to not put your partner on high pedestals because it is extremely unhealthy and co-dependent.

König knows he can’t just blurt shit out as he pleases, lest he scares you away. You would scream at him, call him a sociopath – or a psychopath if you aren’t as knowledgeable as him in the department of terms. He is only self-aware enough to know that he can lose you if he made one wrong move.

He’s old and tired. And he wants to experience fatherhood before he dies, preferably having you as his klein Frau. But he can’t rush you. He needs to bid his time. In that moment, König decided—regretfully so—to let you go back to your duties for the day.

He needed to get close to you than he ever did before—needed to work with you to have you close to him at all times.

“That would be all, liebling.” König says to you. “You are free to go now. I don’t really want to hold you up here for too long.”

“It’s an honour to be picked by you, colonel.” You chirp happily, eager to maintain this casualness between you two in hopes of getting promoted faster.

The giant, behemoth of a man watches you walk away from him, eyes glued to your hips and adorable, plump ass. Your frame still smaller than him even when you stood up to your full height. It was endearing to him. Soft blue eyes following your every move, watching you as you give him one last smile and a friendly wave before you closed the door shut behind you.

“I’d say you’re beautiful.”

Your words echoed in his head, making the older being flustered as he ran his hands over his face and sighed. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he knew he’d be clinging to that until the day he died.

“It shall be the day that the sun is at its peak when you find what you longingly desire. Once the sky is thick with water and the blood of warriors are spilled, the gods will give you a chance to converse with this creature. You should turn them away. Put them at arms-length, but you are a selfish being. You would devour them, drain them until they are merely husks because of your depravities… I pity this young girl.”

He recalls the stupid reading he had gotten from a so-called ‘wise woman’ twelve years ago in her quaint house at Wolfengasse street. Maybe that völva was genuine in her craft before she left Austria.

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 6 months

Text

I'd like to point out that, in The Wild, if you have the Stubborn with you (Which you can get during The Witch if you try to fight her openly in the cabin), THE STUBBORN, and I can't stress this enough, THE STUBBORN, the voice who will relish at the thought of eternal mutually assured destruction with the Adversary, who will call the Razor, responsible for your countless deaths, the perfect woman, who will rejoice at the thought of slaying a god...

Will say "No, fuck this, no hatred, push that fucking thought down, don't listen to these idiots, your willpower is stronger than this, our union won't be destroyed by a traitorous thought."

THE STUBBORN.

The Opportunist and the Hero? They will listen to the siren song of the traitorous thought of you being Two, of being separate, not the same, of hatred, mutual hatred, keeping you apart, they will be goaded by the narrator to listen to it, but the FUCKING STUBBORN.

Again, the "I'd die a thousand deaths just so we could kill each other one thousand and one more" guy, will see that same traitorous thought, planted and encouraged by the narrator, trying to lead you back to, again, mutual hatred and conflict and violence, and he will PUT. HIS FOOT. DOWN.

THE STUBBORN.

I am sorry this is so wild to me like... He really is one of the voices who loves her the most isn't he?

So much so that, once removed from the eternal conflict forms of the princesses involving him usually crave... He just wants to be with her, one, united...

And has enough willpower to demand you to stay as one.

Because it was never about the fighting or the challenge for him, his very being was, ultimately, shaped by his desire to be with her, and once removed from that cycle of violence, he's perfectly content to just- exist, with her, forever.

This is a Love Story indeed.

#slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers #stp #stp spoilers #stp stubborn

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baka-bakeneko · 10 months

Text

Hey Mamí - Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'hara x AFAB Reader

a/n: whether you like it or not, i will be adding a stupid part two to this

wc: 2.6k

tags: Minors DNI, NSFW, accidental breeding kink (oop), creampie, emergency contraceptives, adventures in babysitting, yearning, grief, PTSD, confessions

synopsis: Miguel learns more about himself

Miguel knew it felt way too damn good. You were so hot around him, pulsing and wet; so much wetter than before.

Condom on, it wouldn't feel this pristine. You knew it and Miguel knew it too. From behind, he held you down by the back of your neck.

He pumped into you with such a ferocity, your stomach could barely recover. Every thrust was sickening and torturous, so sweet and begging.

And you could barely contain your excitement when you felt the new feeling inside you.

"Mierda," Miguel winced, stopping his thrusts when he realized his mistake.

You whined at him, rolling your hips after him to resume his pace. "Miguel," you panted, reaching for his thigh as you rested your cheek to the mattress, glaring over your own shoulder back at him.

Pillow tucked under your stomach, you tilted your chin and pouted at him.

"Miggy," you mewled, trying to chase the building high in your stomach.

Miguel gasped hastily, pulling his hand from your throat to rest at the small of your back. He retracted his length, earning a low disappointed groan from you.

"Mi vida, th-the condom broke," Miguel murmured, leaning in as if to tell you this as a secret. He paused, his tip brushing along your folds; his cock twitched eagerly, the ring of the condom nestled at the base of his cock.

The remainder was dangling down to his sack, all of your wetness on the contraceptive tickling his skin.

"Let me get another," he reasoned, tearing off the defective piece then reaching for his nightstand to grab another.

"No," you whimpered, your knees trembling as the heat from your body began to dissipate. The slick between your thighs began to cool, no longer aiding ticklish hike of euphoria. "Forget it, please."

Miguel's brows knitted together at the back of your head, taken aback by your words. "Honey, it's right--"

"Miguel, please." You wiggled your hips, spreading your knees and curling your toes. "Just fuck me."

He gulped, weighing his options presented before him. He trusted you, he just didn't trust himself. Miguel felt that the possibility would be a high probability knowing how his life loved to make him miserable.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his chest heaving from the come down. This was a screeching halt to your fucking, just when it was getting really good.

"Yes, yes, please. I trust you." You begged, backing your hips to rub against his at-attention cock. "You'll pull out, I know you will."

Miguel's eyes crossed, rolling at the carnal warmth that coated his cock. He gave up instantly, guiding his tip back between your folds then pressing into you again.

Your hand reaching out for his thigh now reached for his cheek, pulling him to bend over you. "Fuck me raw, Guel. Make it good."

The lecherous snarl that gained traction to a growl reverberated from his chest and into your back. Your eyes twitched in pleasure, your body short-circuiting when his cock bottomed out.

Entranced, Miguel returned to his original pace. His hands caged you to the mattress with his hands grabbing into the sheets; his claws punctured through the plush top of the bed, ignoring the thought of property destruction as he relished in your slick warmth.

"What if I don't pull out, hmm?" Miguel spat into your ear, slamming you into the mattress.

Your bottom lip was bit tensely between your teeth, threatening to gnaw through it. Your stomach fluttered at his question, unable to answer.

You only twitched your hips up in response. Miguel husked against your temple, forcing his cheek over yours. He bared his teeth lewdly, the string of spit twanging with his snarl.

"You want to be fucked full, don't you?" Miguel taunted, stopping to roll his hips into you. "You want to be bred."

You squeezed your eyes shut, your hand holding at Miguel's cheek now holding at his neck. You didn't respond still, only rode his thrusts into the mattress.

The pillow tucked under you shifted further, propping your hips up when you finally lost strength in your back.

"I'll admit, it's sick of you to want my babies, hermosa," Miguel snapped, taunting his teeth to bite playfully at your cheek. "But who am I to deny mi reina?"

You whimpered, releasing your swollen lip to pant up at Miguel's mouth. "I-I'll take your babies."

Miguel's snarl peeled back his lips, his nose scrunching as he planted a foot onto the mattress and began a whole new pace; one that effectively caused a pain in your lower back.

"I know you will. Mi hermosa puta." His words held the distinct lash with his tone, however soft, still felt so delicious and awful to be called.

You nodded along to his words, knowing they weren't meant heinously but driving that heat further up.

"I'll fuck you full of my cum, and when you're done, I'll cum again," Miguel said, only driving himself wilder into your hips.

His thrusts were lost to the metronome now, pistoning his steel cock in and out of you until your body couldn't sustain the pummeling anymore.

Your back curled up as your arms and legs tensed, your entire body seizing the opportunity of animalistic pounding to orgasm on Miguel's throbbing cock.

The gush of slick from your pussy drove Miguel mad, chasing your high with his own.

Pulling his hands back, he grabbed at your hips and forced a final thrust into you, securing himself deep within your walls as he came.

The two of you caught your breath, gulping and panting collectively while Miguel remained firmly inside you. After the quick come down, Miguel straightened up behind you realizing his mistake and pulling out.

You'd told him, said you trusted him, and here Miguel was watching his hot seed spill out of your pussy. He wanted to relish in the sight, something so sinful yet savory.

He tempted to use his thumb to push his essence back into you, hold it there with the thought of owning you. But he shook his head, backed off of the bed and grabbed a smattering of strewn-about clothes.

"Nena, get dressed for me, hmm? We gotta go to the corner store."

You stood, brain effectively fucked out of you, close behind Miguel. He'd dragged you out of bed, knees still fawn-strength, pulled his hoodie over your body and led you to the convenience store.

Your eyes lulled as you leaned into Miguel, feeling the sluggish trail of his cum begin its way to your inside knee. You smiled lazily at the cashier while Miguel rested his arms on the counter, narrowing his eyes to stare at the options of emergency contraceptives behind the worker.

"I need... two of that one, right there," he politely ordered, pointing at the priciest box in the far left corner. Miguel had pulled his hood up, adorned his glasses for this midnight excursion.

You curled your arms around Miguel's elbow, his hoodie draping well past your knees. "Honey..."

"In a second, hermosa. We'll get this and go home, yeah?" He reasoned, not tearing his eyes from the cashier as he rang the two boxes up.

You leaned further into Miguel, pressing your knees together to stop the slow tide of cum to decorate more of your skin.

"Anything else?" the cashier asked, looking from Miguel to you in a post-fuck daze.

"No, that's it," Miguel said finally, producing his wallet and sliding a large bill across the counter.

He wasted no time taking one of the boxes and handing over to you. "I guess I could've gotten you a drink, huh, nena?"

You shrugged, tearing into the box to produce the singular pill worthy of Miguel's scientific praise. He didn't stare at you as you worked up enough spit to swallow the pill on your way back to his apartment.

His arm circled your waist, walked you into his elevator and then back into his home. You blinked slowly, tossing away the empty box when you were inside then shrugged off his hoodie to take a shower.

Miguel's eyes remained on you, stopping in his tracks when you turned towards the bathroom; he bent to pick up his hoodie from the floor, staring at your slickened thighs also sticky with his cum.

And the thought of you walking out of the house like that, parading your bred body like that. Miguel's mind blanked, following you into the bathroom and bending you over the counter.

"You look so good with my cum in you, hermosa." Miguel breathed into your ear, his free hand petting over your full sex.

He tenderly folded two fingers into you, drawing a low moan out. You arched to the bathroom counter, hands reaching out blindly to gain leverage.

Miguel's other hand went for your mouth, two fingers hooking into your cheek as your forehead braced the mirror.

"I want to decorate you with it, from now on," he whispered, kissing the back of your bare shoulder.

You moaned at his confession, his fingers beginning to pump into you. You nodded along with him. "You should invest in more Plan B, then."

Mayday crawled over Miguel's shoulder then perched at the back of his neck. You reached your hands out to take her, but she was more than occupied crawling over Miguel.

"Do you want me to take her?" you asked softly, resting your hand on your boyfriend's thick bicep.

Miguel hid the grit of his teeth, the tense of his jaw as Mayday crawled about his skin like an itch he couldn't relief. "No, nena, I'm fine."

Peter B. had Mayday, but he couldn't have his own daughter? He knew that in some realm, some insignificant distant verse much like the one he visited before, would have him happy again. Would have her around.

What he wouldn't give to do it right just once. Your hand went for Miguel's, moving his sudden blind grip from touching the hot pan you'd pulled from the stove.

"Miguel? What's wrong?"

Your concern was genuine, Miguel knew it in his heart of hearts, but there would be no instance in which you'd understand his full plight.

"Nothing, mi amor," Miguel said, reaching at his shoulder to pluck the crawling toddler from him like a full-bellied tick. "Here, I think la mono mono needs a diaper change."

You flashed a grin at him, taking the little redhead baby in your arms. "Distracting me from picking your brain? Smart man."

Miguel scoffed in response, turning back to the stove to peel the cookies from the baking sheet. "Go, then we can feed her and watch our movie."

You take Miguel's order with a grain of salt, knowing his bite wasn't aimed at you. Turning your attention to Mayday, you pulled her over your head and lowered her cheek to your lips. "Let's give Tío Guel some space, huh May?"

Miguel glanced over his shoulder after you, watching you walk Mayday to the bedroom. He reached for the sheet itself, hissing lowly at the pain that centered in his palm.

He stared at his hand clutching the heated metal, allowing the pain to dull while he weighed his thoughts. He'd never tell you. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to admit that while he wanted a Mayday, he wanted Gabriella specifically.

And he didn't know if it was you or him that brought her around, but if it wasn't her, he didn't know if he could do it. But Miguel saw how you handled a Mayday, the Mayday, and the affection in your eyes when you stared at the little redhead.

Who was Miguel to deny that of you, if you truly wanted it. And Miguel didn't want any other man to give that to you. You were marked by him, spoiled by him like the two of you egged on every night.

You stood in the doorway with Mayday affixed on your hip, holding her hand around your finger. "Maybe you'll get a cookie, huh? Tío Guel needs some sweets for his sour too."

Looking at Miguel, your brows furrowed in concern. His hand tenderly gripped at the still-hot but empty baking sheet. You sat Mayday down in the living room then went to Miguel.

Rubbing between his shoulders, you leaned into his view. "Miggy?"

Miguel snapped back into the present, setting down the baking sheet and turning to you. "Sorry, mi amor, I was thinking."

You quirked your brow in question, one that Miguel refused to answer as he picked up a cookie and went to the fridge for Mayday's pre-made dinner.

He moved away from you, giving the toddler her cookie then putting the dinner in the microwave. "Go. Sit. I'll be there in a minute."

You stared further at him, tilting your head ready to ask him what was going on in his head.

"Hermosa, go sit." He ordered, his tone holding a bit more bite than usual. You flinched softly at his words, his volume never raising but catching you off guard still.

Miguel noticed and bit at his own tongue, regretting his bark. He took hold of your arms and leaned in to kiss your temple. "Relax. I've got this."

Miguel sat up in bed, staring down at you curled against his waist. You'd been telling him about your day with Mayday while he was at headquarters. The two of you went for some ice cream, a walk around the park, a stop by the petting zoo and the pool before she was passed out by the time you came back to his apartment.

Whether or not you actively told him, Miguel knew how much you cared for the little being. Maybe you strived to have one of your own, but Miguel wouldn't ask.

He ran a hand down your back, soothing you through your simpers. "I had a daughter, in another life. Another universe, much like this one."

He began, but didn't know when or where he should stop. Miguel wanted to tell you his holdbacks, his true fear. So he did, and he didn't spare an inch in scouring his soul clean.

He confessed that, in his weakest point, he took his own place in raising his daughter. The confusion got to him so he referred to the other one as 'Him' only.

"He had Gabriella, a loving wife, a happy life. I wanted that. And I took His place when He met his end."

Miguel wasted no time to butcher his intentions, knowing that it was selfish of him to swoop in and take everything another version worked so hard to build.

"And I knew I'd never be able to be happy," he pointed out, pausing to look down at you again. He'd fixated on a dark spot in the bedroom corner and lost himself in confession. "Until you."

Miguel wouldn't bring up the kink that was deeply festered and grown from this sore spot within him; his body yearned for something more to tether to, he craved his own happiness.

But that stemmed from you. And your womb was not his to own, to stake claim onto if you didn't want that.

"I do want a baby, mi amor, and I know it's selfish of me to say that I only want one. But I want Gabriella."

You stirred softly, not enough to let Miguel know you were awake. But you were, and you'd heard every word of his bleeding heart.

You shifted, hiding the tense feeling in your stomach from his admission. What did this mean for the two of you?

"I'm not hung up on it, if you aren't." Miguel tried to smooth over his tides, running his hand over your shoulders. "I've been in my head since that night."

You remembered that night, it was hard to forget. Miguel barely let up until day broke, and went back to the convenience store with the same shamed look on his face the night before.

Despite his best efforts and attempts though, you and Miguel had created a mess that wouldn't be easily mulled over.

--------------------------------------------------

i dunno, i made this bc i had an idea and then it got angsty and then it felt sad soooo

#fanfic #fan work #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara one shot #astv miguel #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse

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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months

Text

the river (4) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter/next chapter

masterlist

4.8k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, talks of trafficking and abuse related to it, aftermath of breakups, mentions of torture, self destructive behavior, mental illness, unedited, no use of y/n, underage drinking, paranoia

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“I'm hurting you, real or not real." It's been days of this, of Finnick trying to bring you back to him. Half the time you were fine, you'd try to go over the past with him, joke, and open up, so he'd do the same. He had to be so careful though, it wasn't clear what exact things would set it off, but you'd get so paranoid about him and the doctors. Occasionally they'd be able to calmly bring you back, ground you back into the firmness of reality. The other times you'd devolve completely, screaming, crying, hysterical, and Finnick would have to step away as you'd get worse when he was close by. It was an exhausting, never-ending cycle, but it was worth trying to get you back.

Today you'd let his chair be by your bed, but now he was scared he'd be forced to retreat. He had to be careful, if he lied you might be able to see it in his face and be convinced he was lying about other things, or he could tell the truth and risk the spiral of guilt. “Real." He knotted his rope, staring down at it for a second.

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to or want to. I'm really sorry." You're crying and he's thinking, oh shit, so early in the morning and now a whole day of what could've been progress will be lost.

He stared at you, trying to portray as much genuine feeling as possible, “I know that, angel, I don't blame you. I could never blame you and have never blamed you." It hurt to be so close yet so far away, he could reach out and touch you, but he knew better. Not like you always told him when you did want him to hold you though, some days you communicated well, but others it was like you forgot that he needed explicit permission to come close. You'd get grumpy when he couldn't just tell you wanted him closer and do as much. Truthfully it was adorable, and it reminded him of the past, but that also made his heart ache. He couldn't just make an inference anymore on the off chance it sent you into a frenzy, so he'd have to sit by and wait.

“You should, I'm so fucked in the head, and you deserve better."

“Well I'm pretty fucked in the head too, sweet girl, and there is no one better." You were hiccuping on your sobs, this could go badly so quickly. “Hey, it's okay, we're okay, why don't you take some deep breaths with me, angel? Look at me, just follow what I do, deep breath in, deep breath out." He urged you to look at him and you did, trying to follow along through the tears until finally you were somewhat calmed down.

“I'm sorry." You sniffled, wiping away stray tears.

“It's okay, sweet girl, we're gonna have a good day today, right?" The last couple had been rough, so strenuous for the both of you. You nodded slowly, “Maybe they'll let us take a walk or eat lunch with everyone else. Would you like that?”

"I don't know.” Your knees curled up into your chest.

"That's okay, we don't have to take that step yet if you don't want to. We can just talk or sleep or I can teach you some knots, and whatever else we can think of.” You shrugged and he had to realize that it could be a good day, but it probably wasn't going to be an easy one. With you in one of your difficult moods that he'd be left to handle. You'd say no even if you wanted something, silently expect him to come to the conclusion himself, and if it had been before the Capitol dug their talons in it would've been fine. He would've teased you about it before giving into your quiet plea for attention and he would've relished it because it meant you wanted comfort instead of only comforting him. Now though he didn't know what you were thinking, he had assumptions but the risk of being wrong was too great. “We have to use our words, angel, and if that's too hard you can write it down."

You said nothing and laid your head down on your knees, shaking it. Finnick shifted in his seat, rubbing his head, he didn't want to be annoyed with you, but it had been bad day after bad just to lead to this. He was exhausted and hated Snow for making him work so hard just to have you back again. “Please, don't be mad at me.” Your voice was so broken and so soft that he regretted even showing any form of annoyance.

"Angel, I'm not mad at you. I just can't help you unless you tell me what you want or need.” You ever so quietly let out a small huff as you laid down instead, staring at the ceiling. At least you weren't screaming until you needed to be sedated, you were just having a hard time communicating your needs. Finnick was sure all you wanted was to be held, in the past that's what it usually had been. “Is this making you feel embarrassed, honey?" Sometimes the switch between trying to push down your own needs for solace had left you like this, difficult to feel like you deserved to be consoled. Now though, he reasoned, it was because you felt like such a burden.

"I don't know what's going on in my head and everything is so conflicting. I just want to be me again so I know what I want, and you know, and I don't know it's too much. And I want to say things, but I can't because I just want people to see me as I was and know." His poor, sweet girl having to fight all the inner turmoil. You felt different, but you weren't. You were just struggling and wanted things to be the same as they had before, he knew that, but he also knew that they couldn't be until there were less breakdowns, less paranoia.

He had to suck it up and just give what he was so sure it was at the risk of another breakdown if he got closer, but the alternative was a different type of breakdown. “Do you want me to lay with you again?” You played with your fingers and nodded, so he slipped in beside you. He knew there was more from the way you looked at him and hoped he wasn't pushing boundaries, that he was right. "Angel, do you want to be held?” You finally smiled just a little bit when you nodded, grateful, and he smiled back,"Come here, sweet girl.” The moment his arms were around you your head snuggled into his chest, it felt perfect, the way you two were meant to be.

"Don't let me go."

“Wouldn't dream of it." He hadn't touched you in so long it was like heaven in his arms again. “You ready to talk now, sweet girl? Wanna tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I'm sorry I'm so difficult for everyone, I don't know what going on in my head half the time anymore.” Your voice vibrated through his chest and it was so comforting to him.

“You're just trying to get better, it's okay. And you can ask me, angel, you don't have to sit with it in your head and let it eat you up. You can just ask me if it's real.” His fingers traced circles on your shoulder, you were so cold all the time, it made him feel less hot and stuffy

“I'm safe, real or not real?"

“Real." Safe from the arena, the Capitol, the only thing you weren't safe from was yourself.

“Okay." You snuggled yourself further into him, like you trying to let yourself believe it. “When I was in the Capitol…” Finnick's ears perked up,"I'd try so hard to keep myself in reality, and I'd think about that time we took that tiny, crickety rowboat out and you said it would be romantic. So you packed up your fishing rod and we'd been out for a couple of hours when it was probably time to row back. So I said I'd take one of the oars-”

"Because you insisted I deserved to rest since it was so hot and I'd rowed us out, which I wasn't, but you gave me that cute little pout so I let you have one.” Of course he remembered this, even if three years ago felt like an eternity.

"You were tired!”

"That's subjective.” You scoffed, but he could hear you smiling.

“Anyways, right after you give me the oar you started kissing me-"

“You just look so cute when you pout like that and you were shining in the sun, like an angel, I had to."

"But you distracted me and I got so caught up in it because you were being an ass, started leaning me down.” He does remember his diabolical plan when you were sitting down sweetly on that little row boat, trying to help him, he just wanted to lay you right down and show you how appreciative he was.

"And you dropped the oar, sweet girl, wasn't my fault.”

"Yes, it was, you distracted me and then you tilted your body when you heard the splash to see what happened and so I did the same. Which made the boat tip over and left us both in the water.”

“And you just started laughing, I couldn't even be worried about you because your sweet little laugh was the first thing I heard. I just swam right over and had you in my arms, started laughing with you, and the only way I could get you to stop was by kissing you.”

"And then you wouldn't let me help you get the oars and row boat back up.”

"You're so pretty, sweet girl, would rather watch you while I'm on task, we saw what happened when that doesn't happen.”

"That was your fault!” You exclaimed, he could feel your smile on his chest.

“Maybe, but it was worth it.”

You hummed in response, one of your hands playing with the fabric of his own medical gown. "And then you insisted I had to get on first and I didn't know how you did it but somehow you got me in the row boat again before climbing back in, without it tipping over, it almost did, but not completely. And it was so hot that it was drying us off completely when you rowed us back with that beautiful, goofy smile on your face the whole time.”

“Couldn't help myself, you're so beautiful, love to look at you, angel."

“And only after we got to shore and you were insisting on carrying the whole boat by yourself did I notice I'd lost one of my sandals." You let out a small laugh into his chest that made his own smile brighten. “So you told me it was another reason I couldn't carry the boat even though it didn't bother me. We'd lost all the fish so we just ate grapes and giggled as you tried to figure something else out."

“I sat you on the counter and you just smiled like you were the sun, so I'd sneak kisses in while I worked. We decorated that rowboat together, do you remember?"

You nodded into his chest, eyebrows scrunched together. “With flowers and seashells?"

“Yeah, good job! Flowers, seashells, fish, the ocean waves, our handprints, and I carved our initials into it too."

Your voice become somehow even softer, “So when I was in the Capitol I'd think about how refreshing the water felt when the sun was beating down on us, how it felt and tasted when you kissed me, how you held me, the sound of you laugh, how special you made me feel by taking care of me. I'd think about that day to try and stop me from slipping away, for a while it worked."

You never ceased breaking his heart and making him fall deeper in love with you. "Well you're still here with me, haven't really slipped away from me.”

"I feel like I have, that I've slipped away from even knowing myself.” You admitted, voice croaky.

“You've just fallen and we're helping you back up, angel, I'm putting you back in the boat. Maybe it'll rock, but I promise you, it won't tip again."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

His life was hell with you gone because now there was nothing but the ever present loneliness to return too. There wasn't a day that seemed to pass where he didn't think of you in some way. Sometimes it was how much he missed you, others it was fantasies of still being together, and the worst ones were when he'd imagine your life without him. It was terrible when the breakup had begun and he had his first party because everybody had been drawn to you.

“Where is she, is she not feeling well because I can stop by."

"You can't have let that one go, Odair, she was perfect for you.”

"Finnick, she was my drinking buddy!" People admonished him left and right when it was finally revealed that he'd dumped you. Although he was pretty sure people were more upset about the lack of your magnetic presence.

Initially he tried to play it off like his Capitol persona would have, you were just one of many girls lined up for him, and the committal part had scared him off, and you were so clingy. The rumor mill caught it and so many girls were ready to be next. He felt like he was betraying you every time he sent a flirty smirk back to whatever they said to draw him in. So he gave up the persona, he'd rather be mournful and drink away the problems each night.

Then he'd heard that Tallulah still saw you, she'd grab a bottle or two and sneak out to tap on your window. That way she still had someone to take care of her afterwards and she trusted you with the role. “Lulah please tell me what she says, I don't care what about, just anything. I'm begging you." Finnick was tipsy and felt like he was going to cry, but Tallulah pursed her lips.

“Finnick, I don't think that's a good idea.” She took another sip of her drink.

"I'll do whatever you want, please. I'm not asking you to pass messages or anything.” She must have taken pity on him and his tears when she agreed. So he soaked up anything you'd said the next time he saw Tallulah.

“I don't think you want to know."

“I do, I don't care what it is."

“Finnick, if you're already this beat up about it, I'm not sure telling you what she said will help.”

“That's okay, I deserve to feel bad about it."

Tallulah sighed, " People talk Finnick, so the things you'd said about her kind of, you know, got back to her.”

Finnick looked up as if it would stop the tears from falling,"No, no, no, no I didn't mean that. She has to know I didn't mean that.”

"But you said it.” Tallulah shrugged. "She kept asking if I thought she was too clingy or overbearing, sometimes she'd ask if you had someone else and then decided she didn't want to know.”

"No, never.” He said quickly and hated himself for leaving his sweet girl only to cause her even more pain from afar.

“If you're gonna leave a girl, you have to leave her, Finnick. Or you're both gonna spend your whole lives wishing for things when you could just move on. I'm not gonna do this again, just let her have Conway. It's always been them.”

"I know, that's okay.” But it wasn't because Finnick Odair was like a moth to a flame. Any time he could see or hear about you he would. He remembered when nearly a year later you'd started dating Beckett, the same goddamn Beckett that had drawn Finnick to you in the first place. He'd been jealous for a myriad of reasons he had no right to. At least it wasn't Conway, at least if you stuck with Beckett it was a different ending then the expected, the obvious route.

But god, did Finnick hate him. Because he represented you trying to move on, that Finnick didn't have a future with you, and worst of all that other people found you just as intriguing as he did. So when he'd walk the market in circles just to see Beckett shamelessly flirting with you and in your way, you'd flirt back. Maybe he was vain, but Finnick liked to imagine that you did it so he'd be jealous and take you back, even if that could never happen. Beckett had to know it affected Finnick too, who only maintained terse conversation or made jabbing comments towards the other boy.

Until finally whatever excitement you got from it burnt out and you told Beckett it wouldn't work. Leaving Finnick to wonder if it was wrong that he hoped it was because you realized you could never love someone as much as you loved him. It was probably fucked to want, but he needed to know so desperately that you were as longing for him as he was for you. His life condemned him to longing glances and whispers of your name over the ocean waves, but at least you would be safe. Maybe he'd find you in another lifetime, right person, wrong time. Then you could be safe and happy.

Instead he realized the universe didn't expect either of your lives to be ones of just the parted lovers, whatever he'd done in a past life, was coming back for blood. He should've known Snow would realize Finnick thought of you with every breath he took, that he still thought of your lips instead every time he was in the company of a customer, and that it would lead to more tragedy. Because when the fated reaping for the 69th Hunger Games began, it was your name sent into the labyrinth of death.

Any light left in his life had been aggressively ripped from him, it was as if everytime he thought he'd hit rock bottom the ground would crumble beneath him and the falling would resume. At least he knew you were smart, he was privy enough to the clockwork of you to know that you were terrified, but to anyone else you would've looked so calm and collected. Then you looked at him and he felt like the ground was breaking again, another thousand feet to fall. It was like you were sending him a love letter before you went off to certain death.

Tides were always changing, they could sweep you away or reveal the gorgeous curiosities of the waters, Finnick wasn't sure what it was when the second tribute's name was called. Conway. Why was he inescapable? If the stars destined you and Finnick to be tragic lovers, then Conway was always there to rock the boat. But through your eyes, glistening with tears, he sees the plan almost formed. Never has he been so grateful that his sweet girl could easily put on a brave face to handle anything, that you're used to using charisma as a way to fend for yourself, because that means success in the Capitol and you need that.

So although he wished your eyes had stayed on him, blessed him, instead they could do what he needed. Make you interesting enough for sponsors. He knew Conway deserved better, but how could he focus on him when you were right there? His sun, his moon, the stars in the sky, you were absolutely everything, so there was no time to think about what Conway deserved or didn't.

Finnick could easily craft your image to others. He was certain of it, he could sing your praises night and day, so it would be far from difficult to convince the Capitol that you were the model victor. If he had to grovel at the feet of every elite, let them damage his long gone sense of dignity, then it might be worth it for once. Your death would be the last piece of pressure on the dam before it burst open, he needed you to survive. If you won he could be with you. There wouldn't be any hiding because as a victor, Snow would already be finding ways to dig his talons into you. It was all worth it to be able to hold you again.

Finnick could watch every mechanical gear shift in your brain and fall into place. The way Conway loved you, which made Finnick seethe even if he'd always laughed it off like it didn't bother him in the slightest, was going to have to save your life. You'd hate yourself for it, but you'd hate yourself more if you didn't do everything you could do to be there for your family. The same family that you were convinced despised you, but you would spend every cent of victory money on doctors for your mother, or to make it so none of them had to worry about crabs ever again. Not as if that would be necessary, the influx of riches was so exorbitant no one really knew what to do with it once they'd helped those they loved and spoiled themselves sick. Regardless, if you had to step on Conway's head for them you would. Even if it meant the end of the friendship that had kept you afloat for years. Maybe you avoided home like the plague, but only after you'd worked to convince everyone you could sell out your booth. Finnick had always been in awe about how sweet little you could effortlessly piggyback on any information you had to make a sale, which was a largely successful method. If you won you'd have to focus your efforts on performing for all of Panem instead, but that wouldn't be an issue for you when your family would be safe.

Surely it didn't hurt that he was also on the other side of survival, maybe that was selfish for him to think about, but he hoped you knew he would take you back in a heartbeat. That every dream he'd ever shared with you, fantasy about your future, could be possible once you had that crown on your head. It would be full of trials and turbulent waters, but at least you could be together. So he watched as you forced your eyes to portray the gaze of a lover about to be ripped apart from her happy ending, the look you'd genuinely worn when he'd broken your heart. Conway seemed to know you well enough to understand that, but it gave Finnick pride to know he couldn't read you like a book, unlike him. At the end of the day that would be a good thing, at least Conway could die without his dreams of being loved by you being dismantled.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick should've known better than to fall asleep once you had. But it felt so normal to have you asleep on his chest. He was no stranger to nightmares, his or your own, it had become a constant present in your lives. Usually he knew how to handle them, but now it was a completely different ballgame. When you woke up screaming you didn't want his comfort, you wanted him as far away as humanly possible. Hitting his chest as he unwrapped his arms as quickly as he could to dart out of the room as fast as he could while the doctors flooded in.

“Just let him kill me." You were sobbing, curled back into the ball where your knees were pulled to your chest as you cried into them. A doctor tried to touch you and you instantly pulled away, like you were a wounded dog. Your hand covered your ears as you rocked back forth, and back and forth. “I need to see Conway." You muttered and then so lightly under your breath, “Conway, Conway, Conway."

“Angel, he's not here right now." He'd never be here, but further upset could be avoided.

You nodded slowly, “I need to see Peeta." At least that was doable.

“Tomorrow, he's been doing better, we can take you to see Peeta tomorrow." A doctor assured, no one wanted to sedate you again unless they absolutely had to, so this was much better.

“Promise?"

“We'll do what we can." She smiled at you sympathetically.

You slowly uncurled yourself from your ball, “Okay."

“Are you feeling better?"

“Yeah, I'm sorry." Thank god, no king crisis. Just a moment that had now passed.

“You're okay, just had a bad dream. Perfectly understandable, do you need anything?" You shook your head and the medical staff slowly began filing out.

“Can I stay?" Finnick's fingers found the rope to focus on. You looked at him for a second, like you were deep in thought, before nodding. So he took his place in the chair, “Do you wanna talk about it?"

“You should just kill me now." The words ran out of your mouth and made his heart drop, “I know you want to and I wanted you too. I probably deserve the uncertainty of when it will happen, but I'm selfish and just need it to be over with."

He wasn't sure if his heart had ever hurt more, but it was always reaching new levels of pain. “I don't want to kill you and I'm not going to ever.”

"You should. Even I know I should die, it's not wrong to admit.” You blankly stared at the glass in front of you.

“You don't deserve to die, you've done nothing with that. You've suffered enough to make up for whatever it is you think you did.”

"No I haven't, this is the universe’s lead up to it. I hurt him, the only person who really cared about me since we were children, and I tore him into shreds. It has to come for me.”

“Look at me.” You kept staring at the glass. Finnick's words came out harsher than he expected them too, but maybe it would mean they finally got through your head. “Look at me!” Finally you did, looking so startled and confused. "This karmic retribution fantasy needs to stop. It's been six years. I'm not telling you to stop hurting or that the guilt will go away, but it doesn't mean you need to continue to suffer or deserve death.” He leaned forward in his chair, "You used Conway, so you deserve death? You spent six years being used by any Capitol elite willing to pay. Being horrifically abused in any way imaginable. You got sent back into the arena! There was only one year you had a victor and she came out of the arena known for being ‘crazy.’ They sent you back into the arena to die and you didn't expect to come out of it. The Capitol held you hostage and tortured you. Have you not given enough to make up for what you did as a teenager? Conway, after six years, would have said it was more than enough to make up for a few weeks of deception. Even if this led to his death, because no matter what, he cared about you. He was angry then, but I doubt that in whatever happens after we die he's holding that grudge after watching you suffer for so long because he loved you. You don't want someone you love to go through something like that.”

You were sobbing again and Finnick felt his own eyes brimming with tears. “I miss him."

“I know, angel. I know." He would never be able to fill the role that Conway had and he'd long accepted that. All he could do was assure you that when I came down to the bare bones of it all, Conway as he was, wouldn't have wanted you to suffer as much as you had for it. Whatever punishment it caused had been more than paid and he would've known that. He would've told you that if he could. He'd been so angry in the moment, but Finnick knew Conway still would have loved you despite the transgressions in his heart and life because that had been his way. All Finnick could do was hope you didn't find a way to see what Conway would really say, in the near future, because then he'd follow quickly behind.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading, sorry this took so long, I've been very busy!! feedback, comment, likes, reblogs are all very appreciated. my ask box is always open and I loved answering them, requests are open and I've got some fics from them coming up after this. thank y'all so much for reading 💋

taglist: @aegonswife @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @libertyybellls @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69 @nomorespahgetti @problematicpastries @abaker74 @nj01 @whens-naptime @sarcasticbooknerd12 @cakes-hq @honethatty12 @s1lngwns @alliex-o @mushy-mushroom04 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @korra-rail-me @scoliobean

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #the lakes #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick imagine #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #the river

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elryuse · 2 months

Note

A Yandere Jeon Heejin x Male Reader please

THIRST

YANDERE JEON HEEJIN X MALE READER

In the bustling halls of Maplewood High School, Heejin reigned as the epitome of popularity. With her flawless looks, captivating charm, and effortless grace, she was adored by many. Yet beneath her radiant facade lurked a dark obsession, one that revolved around her childhood friend, Lee Y/n.

"Yah Stupid Head... Give me your lunch money".

"P-please don't do this to me.. I've never done anything to you.. ".

"How dare you talk back to me... Boys punch him harder.. ".

"No please. Stop... Ahh".

Once inseparable, Heejin and Y/n shared a bond forged in the innocence of youth. However, as they entered high school, Heejin's rise to popularity led her down a path of cruelty. She reveled in her newfound status, using it to belittle and torment Y/n, relishing in his pain as he endured her relentless bullying.

Despite Heejin's transformation into the school's golden girl, her heart ached with an unspoken longing for the boy she had once cherished. But pride and peer pressure kept her from acknowledging her true feelings, and she pushed Y/n further away with each passing day.

Then tragedy struck. A horrific accident shattered the illusion of Heejin's perfect life, leaving her ostracized by her former friends and drowning in a sea of despair. In her darkest hour, it was Y/n who extended a hand of compassion, offering solace amidst the storm of her anguish.

"Stay away from us Heejin... You're ugly as heck... Ahahaha.... C'mon girls let's leave her".

"Girl's please... I'm one of the most popular girls right..."??

"Bitch please... Once we know how fake you were... Your career is basically over".

"Please... I've done everything for this group... For you all... ".

"Let's leave girlsss.. ".

"No... Please.. Don't leave mee...".

"Are you alright Heejin"?

"Y.. Y/n...".?

"C'mon let's get you back on the right track Heejin.. ".

"Y/n...*sobs* I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry... After everything that I've done... I'm sorry... ".

"It's okay... Let's get you home safely now.. ".

"Thank you... Thank you Y/n *hugs him* Thank youu".

As Heejin found herself drawn to Y/n's unwavering kindness, her feelings evolved into something far more consuming. She watched him with a feverish intensity, her heart swelling with a love she could no longer deny. But as her affection deepened, so too did her obsession, spiraling into a dangerous obsession that consumed her every thought.

Determined to make Y/n hers and hers alone, Heejin's actions grew increasingly erratic and possessive. She would go to any lengths to keep him by her side, manipulating situations to isolate him from others and showering him with suffocating affection.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM... HE'S MINE BICTCH... *thud* YOU BETTER STAY AT THAT POSITION, IF YOU DARE TO WOKE UP... I'M GONNA HURT YOU AGAIN.. AND AGAIN.. ".

"please... Help-".

"I SAID SHUR THE FUCK UP".

"y/n...help..m-".

"I WILL MAKE SURE HE FORGETS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU YUNA... HIS MEMORIES WIYH YOU WILL BE GONE.. I SHALL TAKE THAT PLACE INSTEAD... BYE BYE SWEETIE AND SWEET DREAMS".

"y/n...agh..uh...hh".

But as Heejin's grip tightened, Y/n began to sense the darkness lurking within her, and fear gnawed at the edges of his heart. Trapped in Heejin's suffocating embrace, he realized that her love had transformed into something monstrous, a twisted obsession that threatened to consume them both.

Caught in the clutches of Heejin's dangerous affection, Y/n could only watch helplessly as the girl he once knew descended further into madness. And in the shadow of her obsession, their once-cherished bond stood on the brink of destruction, a casualty of Heejin's desperate desire to possess him at any cost.

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #apreciation post #heejin #loona #artms #yandere scenarios #yandere stories #yandere

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anianurst · 6 months

Text

Dreams Do Come True

Summary: days go by, and Yuji's dreams stop. restless by your absence, Yuji decides to confide in his teacher

A/n: the final part of this mini-series :( im happy that it's received so much love <3 thank youuuuu

Warning(s): mentions of death, puke, mental breakdown, spoilers for jjk season two (episode 17)

It's quiet without you. Not a peaceful quiet but an unsettling one. One that fills your lungs and sits and you struggle to breathe. You hadn't appeared since Yuji was awakened from his last dream with you. Night after night, he goes to bed with bated breaths, hoping you'll appear and he can again relish in your devoted love.

But that doesn't happen. A day goes by, then another, and before he knows it, two weeks pass by with no appearance of you. It's noticeable to everyone that something has been irking Yuji. He smiled a little less and always responded with short answers.

The more noticeable change was the absence of the curse within him. Now that he thinks about it, Yuji doesn't remember Sukuna appearing or talking to him ever since you had appeared in his dreams. The king of curses had been quiet and seemingly lurking in the depths of his soul.

There was one moment that Yuji remembers (more like his body remembers). The moment that you had left with Uraume, he remembered a deep pull from the bottom of his soul. A rough tug that told him he needed to go to you now. The sharp pull then fizzled out as his body turned the opposite way.

"So, what's bothering you, Yuji?" Satoru asks, his bright blue eyes filled with curiosity hidden behind his trademark blindfold. Yuji jolts from the sudden question as he looks up from his phone. An unsure feeling fills his stomach before he sighs and confides in his teacher.

"There's this girl."

"Oh?" There's a teasing tone as Satoru smirks. Yuji's cheeks flare up as he quickly shakes his head.

"It's not how you think it is," he says. "I don't know her." Okay, now Yuji's just talking nonsense, Satoru thinks. "She started showing up in my dreams a while ago, but she hasn't appeared in a like long time."

"Oh?" Satoru says, and it's different this time. He's intrigued by Yuji's confession.

"It's like I know her, but I don't at the same time," Yuji adds. Satoru hums and runs a hand through his snow-like hair. A second passes before he snaps his fingers and makes finger guns at his student.

"You don't know her, but someone else does," Satoru concludes, and Yuji's eyebrows furrow. Why is his teacher always speaking in a metaphorical way? It isn't until Yuji feels something shift on his cheek. A single eye surfaces underneath the teen's left cheek and glares at the white-haired male, warning him not to dig any deeper.

23:14, Dogenzaka, In Front of Shibuya 109

Your lips are parted in awe as you stare at the crater of destruction before you. Even now, in modern times, Sukuna's destruction has always left you breathless, in awe of the beautiful chaos left behind.

A gust of wind comes from behind you, and you turn to look. 'He looks different,' you think, your eyes meeting four ruby-red ones that have always sent warmth through your body.

As he steps towards you, a smirk makes its way to Sukuna's face. A single hand (he has two arms instead of four. a fact that makes you question if you like this change) caresses your face, and you snuggle into the warmth of your lover's hand.

"Be sure to savor this, brat," is all Sukuna mutters as his red eyes give way to brown ones. His hand falls from your cheek, and Yuji's eyes are wide in horror.

He takes in your captivating form, smiling at him and the mass destruction behind you. His hands come up to clutch at his face as shaky breaths leave his lips. Memories of Sukuna's destruction fill his mind, and he falls to his knees.

A groan leaves him as he empties his stomach onto the ground before him. Tears start falling from his eyes as he screams his lungs out. Chants of 'die' and 'only me' fill the air as you continue smiling at him.

His cries die down in volume while you kneel down, your traditional, thin kimono becoming stained with his puke. Your welcoming arms wrap around his shoulders as you pull his figure into yours, your neck becoming damp with his tears.

"Welcome home, my love."

taglist: @aish777 @chuuberrysworld @reigenation @shegetsburned @destroyer-of-za-warudo @darkcowboypirate @cunisna @reverrieee @hotpossumjam @nnasv @sunshinesetsstuff @smolgojo

#sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #yuji x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk spoilers #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen #itadori yuuji x reader #yuji itadori

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vampykween · 7 months

Text

when your mind's made up

simon 'ghost' riley x reader cw: angst wc: 510 i was listening to i bet on losing dogs by mitski on repeat while writing this oops! this is mostly edited, but bare with me if there are any mistakes eek

"i don't love you," your face was paling, and your breathing was growing shallow. you shake your head fervently. he didn't mean that. simon would never hurt you like this, although you're not sure simon is standing in front of you right now. he's ghost right now, hardened mask placing a brick wall between the two of you.

"simon-" it's becoming hard to speak with the lump growing in your throat and the tears clouding your vision.

"please, you don't mean that." you step closer to him and take his hands in yours, pleading with your eyes for him to not break you like this. he shakes his hands out of your grasp and takes a step back, forcing space between you- his eyes devoid of emotion.

"i don't know what to tell you, "he simply shrugs as if he's conversing about something mundane like whose turn it is to do the dishes.

you were sure this was going to kill you. you couldn't force any air into your lungs and the room was starting to spin. how did this happen? just this morning you both were cuddled up relishing that for the first time in forever neither of you had anywhere to go; now hours later the sun has fallen behind the horizon and your lover is singing a different tune.

you feel so pathetic for believing that your one good moment changed things. you're so naive, you know that, but how could you not be when simon riley had changed your entire world. that's how you got here though, you had nothing before you met him; you were young and looking for the love you never had growing up. he had warned you that he wasn't good for you, but you didn't care. he made you feel like the sun was exploding in your chest, but now you realize it was because he was going to destroy you from the inside out all along.

fuck emotionally unavailable simon riley was emotionally destructive. flashes of anger burned through you, at him and at yourself. why did he get to take all your love, all your words of reassurance, all your unconditional love and chew it up and spit it out?

suddenly you are your mother's daughter; you throw anything within arm's reach of you- the vase of flowers he had gifted you for valentine's day- and it crashes loudly at the wall behind him. simon doesn't flinch just stares blankly at you, and that makes your rage boil over. you're screaming now, spewing all the most hateful things you could think of about how you hate him, how you wish you'd never met him, how he ruined your life, and how he's left you with nothing.

that realization slams into you and douses the fire in you. you're nothing but a deep sea of despair. you fall to your knees and your body wracks with sobs. how did you manage to let this happen?

you had nothing, you poured your all into simon, and now you had nothing left.

banner from @cafekitsune!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley angst #ghost angst #mic writes #vampykween

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nyimasu · 1 year

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───── 𝐸𝑁𝐷𝐿𝐸𝑆𝑆 𝑁𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇

PAIRING — incubus!getō x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS — who says sex demons aren't allowed to fall in love with humans? getō certainly was the first one to break the rules, and he hasn't looked back ever since.

CW — mention of a previous fight between you and suguru, mind control (just at the beginning), pillow humping, power play, teasing, implied somnophilia but consent has been granted beforehand by reader, orgasm delay, thighjob/thigh fucking (don't know if it's the same thing so here we go), degradation kink, getō acts as nothing matters to him and he's slightly demanding of you but he softens towards the end.

WC — 2.3k ;; cross-posted on ao3

ANYA'S CORNER — I really don't know what this is lmao I was just horny, that's it.

P.S : I have an idea for vampire!nanami but I need to slow down *sighs and explodes*

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

He is going to deny you the pleasure of his body pressed against yours tonight.

So pretty, is what Suguru thinks as he sits on the chair under the window. You have left it open, for you knew he was going to come back to you, eventually.

But for all the wrong reasons.

His eyes land on the king-size bed before him, travel down on you peacefully sleeping in it as if you didn’t argue with him not so long ago.

Geto crosses his legs as you stir in your sleep. Low, deep breaths escape your chest when you turn, body curled towards the dark-haired man. A part of you always seems to sense his presence.

Funny, considering how desperate you were for him to leave just a couple of hours ago.

The topic you had discussed so unanimously about didn’t matter now, because what made him storm out of your flat had been your attitude. Petty with dashes of childishness here and there. Provocative at best.

Destructive at worst.

However, you forgot one simple truth: Suguru is no mere human you can lash out at.

He’s never been one to begin with.

Whenever his heart, as inhuman or depraved as it is, tells him to take things further, he goes so far that the line between acceptable and unacceptable blurs into a teary mist you try to tear apart with your love.

But sometimes even your affection means nothing, and it’s not enough to win over Suguru’s most primal and true urges. And tonight they are clawing at his insides, screaming at their master to set them free.

Vision trailing down to the apex of your thighs, Geto cocks his head to the side before lifting a hand, palm facing you. His smile borders a grin when he moves a finger, because you shift in your sleep almost painfully, tearing both the blanket and comforter off your body to cool down. It’s him, caressing your flesh and bones with nothing but a swift of his power, that elicits the loudest reactions out of you.

Winter’s cold kiss is still lingering in the air despite the fact it’s March already and even in the darkest of nights such as this one, Suguru is able to see how the fabric of the white night dress you have on does nothing to conceal the arousal pooling at the front of your underwear, inner thighs glistening with it. Its sheerness doesn’t soothe you, not even one bit, and how you rub your thighs together in search of relief speaks for itself. Goosebumps run over your skin, probably because of the sudden change in temperature laced with the lasting effects of mind control.

That doesn’t bother your still asleep mind and impatience gnaws at you as one of your hands flies to your chest, fingers kneading the tender flesh of your tits all while airless whimpers still fall past your lips, nose buried in the pillow. It’s still not enough and Suguru relishes in your despair.

His sole presence in the room is enough for your blood to pump faster, and the incubus uses it to his advantage when he flicks his hand a second time and you flip on your stomach, hands planted on either side of your head while you rise on your knees, torso still plastered against the mattress.

“Oh, I know what to do with you, now. What a dirty little girl you are.” he coos in the dead in the night and faux innocence as dense as treacle scorches the air as Geto adds, “And you have the nerve to call me heartless.”

He’s just taken a peak at what you are dreaming about and despite his frustration, the tent of his pants strains as flashes of your wet dreams flood his mind, washing over him like thunderous waves.

He should be used to it by now, right? He’s a sex demon, after all. One who lured many women to their orgasmic downfall for centuries.

But then he met you, and the most powerful incubus ever born had become putty in your hands; tonight he’s going to remind you of what he’s really capable of, though.

He’s elated to see you grab the other pillow eagerly — his pillow, which bears the intoxicating essence of his lust — and throw it between your knees. They spread even further on the damp mattress, soaked in your sweat, as the metallic zip on the side grazes your clothed clit and a muffled moan warms the bed beneath you.

Now, that’s something he hasn’t ordered you to do.

“Look who’s decided to wake up. Was I too rough?” Geto circles the end of the bed, tutting to himself while walking oh-so slowly in your direction. Once he’s close, the incubus falls to his knees to then tilt again his head where yours is. To his surprise, he finds out you’re more than awake.

Your eyes are wide in need, vision tunnelled on Suguru’s hand coming to rest close to your face as you keen. His voice wraps around you so tightly that you can’t help but sigh, all other sounds fading and blending in his voice.

“Suguru, I’m s-”

He shuts you up with a single glance at your pleading lips and now you come to understand once more how terrifying incubi can turn out to be. He was right, you had forgotten about his true nature but don’t worry.

He’s going to make sure you won’t repeat the same mistake ever again.

“You have nothing to apologise for. Not yet.” he snaps his fingers and suddenly your body isn’t yours again. To your relief he’s just adjusted its position in front of him, your side profile now his to stare at or ignore; the zip brushes against your lower folds this time and you mewl. The friction is delicious, and you want to come so, so hard you almost lose sight of what’s happening.

Yes, almost, because judging by the look in Suguru’s eyes, he won’t let you do so for a while. He’s going to toy with you all night long. His reputation as the most teasing demon of them all always preceded him, so he’ll just pull the strings and watch everything unfold from his place next to you.

Literally.

As if he’s reading your mind — well, he does read minds and he’s read them countless times, but tonight he prefers not to since he already knows what goes on in your pretty head —, Suguru draws back to observe your body quiver while trying to resist his powers. All to no avail.

He internally chuckles at that as he continues, “You’ll beg me to touch you by the end of the night. I might have a change of heart, though.

Don’t call me names again, or I’ll make sure you never come again for the rest of your life. You know I can do that.

Am I clear?”

The nod you give him is gingery. He’s intimidating, yet the tone he’s used just now makes you go insane. God.

Another wave of slick escapes you, dripping onto the cushion between your legs. You try to hide how much his words affect you and close your legs, but Suguru notices it right away. His grin grows even more as you, practically painting, squirm in excitement, eyes flicking up to him the moment he scoots closer again. He raises a hand above your head, fingers ghosting over the nape as you see his nails elongate to turn into full-on black, sharp claws.

Hope blooms in your heart like a flower.

Maybe he’s going to touch you-

Geto stomps on that feeble desire by quickly pushing two fingers downward and there go your legs, too, lowering onto the pillow as you yelp. His mental grip on you is gentle but stern all the same.

As if it isn't overwhelming enough, your partner caresses- no, brushes against your nape only to tease you and red jolts of frustration shot through your limbic system.

Tonight he’s the embodiment of danger, clothed in nothing but his need to conquer your senses, smother your entire being. Now more than ever, Geto Suguru ignites your fight or flight responses.

You know what they say about incubi. Whatever floats their boats is theirs to decide, and you’re always open to any kind of tempest Geto is willing to bring your way.

Whatever he wants, he gets.

But despite everything, you’re still desperately close to cum by just staring at his face.

In a last effort to plead innocence, you look at Geto with doe eyes. He licks his lips in response, unfazed.

His resentful laugh is even sharper when his hot breath fans over you as he exhales, “A bit wet under the ears, aren’t we? Now play with yourself.

I want you to crave me.”

As if I’m not a goner for you already, you tell yourself while Geto tuts again, his raised index and middle finger parting for a second and then close shut to rub against each other. It’s lewd, obscene.

It turns you on beyond common sense.

Your body acts on its own accord once again, and a loud moan tears your throat apart when the zip kisses your clit. But nothing can stop Suguru’s plans now, not even your airless whimpers getting lost in the deep thrusts, his gaze alternating between your face and your thighs. What a nice view.

Your stuttering hips snap against the soft pillow harder and harder, hands shoved in your own under the headboard and you grit your teeth so tightly pain starts to spread across the jaw; his shit-eating grin and elbow planted on one knee to hold his head as he watches you in silence. That’s what he’s accomplished as he never ceases to drink in each messy breath you take, your determination to take over endearing.

Whenever you try to speak, the incubus sighs and brings you closer to the edge, the pace only increasing in force to rile you up further.

By the time his hold on you loosens, you are a breath away from fainting. Or coming, you can’t tell the difference at this point.

Especially since a thick layer of sweat coats your skin and you feel as if your pupils, blown in exhaustion, are ready to burst out as your head hits the headboard to catch some air. You’re on your knees now, pillow hot and cramped between your legs, your panties now soiled and abraded. But nothing compares to your ego, battered and ready to disintegrate under Geto’s stern look.

“Please forgive me, Suguru. I can’t do this anymore. You were right and I was wrong. At least let me touch you.

Please.” supplication after supplication, you repeat the last word with more emphasis than before.

Just as he predicted, you’re a beggar, thirsty for blissful mercy. Surprisingly enough, you’ve lasted more than the incubus thought you would be capable of.

Something in his features soften at the beseeches so you carry on. You even dare to stretch out a hand and touch his tensed legs, too in a hurry to wait for his permission.

He’s still crouched besides you and the warmth of his body so close to yours after such a rough treatment ignites a chain reaction. The first one to cave in is you, of course, but the one to crumble harder is none other than the embodiment of Sex itself.

Geto. Proud, maddening Geto.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he’s your oblivious incubus.

He realises the entity of his mistake once his claws fly to your pussy and shreds what’s left of your underwear. The action is too fast to give you any sort of comfort, its only purpose to prolong the torture because now every flimsy barrier you may have had before with the chill kiss of the night is gone. Yet you endure it, smiling in the pillow all while you watch Geto rise to his feet and bares his cock.

“Fuck.” you can’t help but feel your mouth water at the sight of the thick vein running along his shaft, pulsating with need. Is it for you?

Clenching around nothing you sob as he, for a lack of better words, shoves your upper half flush on the mattress. Throwing the drenched pillow out of the way, he quickly goes to occupy the empty space.

Not so fast.

Apparently you still have some strength left in you and decide to use it by lurching towards his erection. Suguru growls, surprised, as your lower brushes him, yet you don’t give up just yet and begin to rut against him. After a few seconds, he regains control of the situation and quickly binds his hands to your hips, grounding you on him.

Electricity runs through your body as you stare at him from above the shoulder, feeling victorious.

“I see what you did here”, he begins, digging deeper into your flesh. “You’ve never been really asleep, haven’t you?”

You shake your head. “Not really. But I wanted to see how far you were willing to go to make me pay for what I said, so that’s why I let you use your mind control’s powers on me. God, I missed seeing the real you. But I really meant what I said earlier, Suguru. I’m sorry.

It was unfair to call you heartless. You’re not.”

For the first time since he’s come back, Geto laughs. His laughter is brimming with joy and pure enamourment, so the next, natural step for him to follow is to bend over and capture your lips in a heated kiss.

Yet he doesn’t give you time to respond, because he’s quick to bring two fingers together abruptly, and your legs and knees close shut; startled, you cry out in Geto’s mouth.

But when his dick slips through the tight space between your legs, pounding you without actually slamming himself into you, the knot in your stomach comes back stronger than ever.

“Now that we’re at it, dirty girl", Suguru licks your ear shell and you screech. His voice is hoarse and his body incandescent as he whispers,

"I'm going to melt every impure thought of yours and replace them with my cum. How about that?”

#voice of cassandra #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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gaiathemexicanbeauty · 4 months

Text

"what makes you think you can..?"

(bingo challenge prompt #2 :D)

pairing: re4!leon kennedy x gn!reader word count: 693 warnings: arguing? does that count idk, angst maybe??, mentions of ashley (my queen), leon throwing disses at you for sure, no kiss kiss :(, unrequited love?, leon's a man of few words yall

takes place during re4 :3

"what makes you think you can just walk away?"

leon's voice is icy, brimming with poison when you turn your back to ashley and him. there's no doubt in your mind that he has his gun aimed and at the ready where you stand at the bottom of the dirt path. "leon, stop-" "ashley, you've been amazing company but i can fight my own battles." you say firmly, slowly turning back to face leon to show you mean no harm towards them. "don't worry, i think you can drop the act by now." he says with a glare, rainwater glistening off of his gun and drenching the three of them. you only hum in response to that, looking over at ashley: it'd really only been a few days since you'd been tagging along with the pair, but the look ashley was giving you was like you'd just kicked her dog.

"what tips you off that i'm with the bad guys, hm? am i too friendly, too giving?" you say, crossing your arms against your chest as leon tightens his grip on his gun. he doesn't respond, just keeps glaring at you with this indiscernible look in his eyes. ah. you muster up as much face as you can, trying not to both relish in and repent the way you can sense his hurt from a mile away; maybe ashley was picking up on it, too, it would make more sense as to why she'd been so willing to bond with you while leon kept you at arms' length. "who will i tell, leon? who could i possibly working for that needs to know if the president's daughter gets home safe or where she is? i don't exactly see the locals welcoming me with hugs and kisses." you say, earning a scoff from leon that makes you swallow thickly. "something tells me this is a need to know basis. but i'm also not gonna end up being the one 6 feet under when i find out who needs to know."

you let out an incredulous laugh at that, shaking your head before smiling coldly up at leon; god, you wanted to smack that stupid gun out of his hands and shake him. "i bet you used to be fun at parties. i really don't know what else i can tell you to let me home free." you say, the three of you unmoving as thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. leon seems to just stare at you (or through you) almost in shock though it's not evident on his face. his features falter for a second, one of those 'blink and you'll miss it' moments and then you see it: under the grime and rage and stress and years he'd never even been a shadow of a thought in your mind, you see him. the boy he'd told you only bits and pieces about that explored a strange city and a strange police station ravaged by destruction and gore. the boy who never had his famed first day. the boy who's job first and foremost was the protection of others.

the moment's gone before you have time to process it, watching leon put his gun away and turn on his heel in the opposite direction; anything you wanted to say was lost to him now. ashley is left to look between the two of you, unable to meet your gaze and her eyes meeting leon's back. "ashley, let's go." "leon-" "on me." ashley's lips part in shock a bit as leon keeps walking, not looking back even once. she looks over at you, worry obvious in her expression. you finally meet her eyes, giving her a smile that says 'what can you do?' and waving her off. she doesn't take her eyes off of you, walking hesitantly before eventually turning away to catch up to leon. you watch the two of them disappear behind a patch of trees, standing in the rain for a bit longer; you tell yourself it's to show him you won't follow them but if he glanced your way for even a second, you'd join them again in a heartbeat.

◦°˚\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

I MISSED LEON KENNEDY SO BAD, he was actually going to be my first prompt but this one helped me create that sweet sweet drama

thanks for reading once again! im having such a good time writing for this challenge and being able to do small pieces instead of one big piece. i hope you all are enjoying it too! :3

next prompt:

one finds the other crying

PSSTT here's the link to the bingo masterlist to find all the prompts in one spot ;3

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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months

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Oh my God! The "Innocent Abominations - Wholesome Edition" snippet was ADORABLE!! I'm grinning like a loon! (Not the original anon btw)

I'm just waiting for whenever Mandroid or GHOST inevitably screws up and Optimus goes Mama Bear Mode. It would probably win Dot's approval of him (if only for the safety of her children) and put Megatron and Elita at ease that Optimus hasn't lost his touch. "Strong Enough To Be Gentle" is right.

It might even be a little bittersweet for them, getting to see Optimus so clearly at ease and carefree, like having their little Orion back aver all these years.

It is indeed a little bittersweet. The Matrix took Orion from them long ago. Seeing him back? It is both a blessing and a curse.

Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus will fight denta and claw for the Terrans. The Matrix made him a softer mech so that he could interact with them, but it did nothing to eliminate his lethality in battle. The switch is so severe and so quick that it is hard to determine if its even the same mech at all. One moment Optimus was calmly helping the Terrans compose battle plans and praising them for their willingness to fight. Then, without a moment's hesitation, he was sprinting forward with the viciousness of an old god released from his shackles.

Mandroid may have had technology on his side, but he did not have the will of a god pushing him on. Within him, the Matrix made its demands, and as its loyal vessel, Optimus obeyed. It called for the destruction of all that would dare touch the Terrans. He relished in its commands.

The Terrans fought on their own for a time, working with Megatron to bring down Mandroid. But they were not alone for long. Optimus threw himself forward with viciousness that none present had every witnessed. His movements were familiar to Megatron, but the way his gaze locked onto the enemy and the way he seemed to feel no pain? That was new and it worried Megatron more than he cared to admit. The Terrans merely watched in awe as Optimus tore into Mandroid's machines.

When all was said and done, the Terrans cheered and went to Megatron to celebrate. But amidst their celebration, Optimus stood amidst the wreck covered in energon, his axe still readied as he stalked through the ruins. The Matrix demanded he ensure the threat was destroyed, and so that was what he did. Megatron could not call him away, nor could the Terrans. Optimus Prime stalked like a dead mech for hours before the Matrix was satisfied.

When he returned to the Maltos the very next day, there was not a single trace of the terrifying war machine from the earlier battle. Optimus smiled and made his way forward as if nothing had happened. He was covered in cuts, but his disposition was that of the dock worker that Megatron and Elita knew long before the war. It was offputting, but the Terrans didn't notice or care.

Dot had been suspicious of the Prime since his arrival, especially since Megatron was on edge. She had been willing to put up with it, but seeing Megatron's growing concern, she had questions.

Dot: This isn't normal for him.

Megatron: No, it is not.

Dot: What happened to him?

Megatron: He carries the Matrix, a relic from our world. Little is known about it since most of its bearers were either tight lipped or killed before much could be said.

Dot: The relic is doing this.

Megatron: That is my fear. It took Orion Pax from us and gave us Optimus Prime. Now... it seems to have combined the two. I don't believe it will endanger the children or the Terrans, but the Matrix has proven to be unpredictable.

Dot: Do I need to do something about Optimus?

Megatron: Not yet. He has no intention of taking the Terrans. However I cannot say he will not act drastically later.

Megatron: Consider him a wary ally for the time being. Elita and I will observe him and ensure that his state will not harm your family.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers earthspark #earthspark megatron #earthspark optimus #dot malto #the matrix of leadership #earthspark elita one

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total-drama-brainrot · 3 months

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Total Drama Psycho Noah AU, after the 'London Adventure' and the truth being revealed, Chris then decides to make this a reward challenge... The reward is that EVERYONE gets to be in First Class, with NOAH... Chris and Noah are curious to see, who will be brave enough to actually enter First Class, after learning about Noah's insanity... How would Courtney + Gwen + Duncan reacts to seeing the video of Noah's insane side showing? 😈 Would Alejandro and Noah still be friends? 😈

Listen, as much as this idea is so fucking funny to me, I really don't think it'd work from a storytelling perspective.

Though (not to push any agendas here, but-) if Chris were to hypothetically have the remaining contestants go against Noah in an enclosed space, in a sort of predator-vs-prey scenario, it'd probably play out something like The Beast chapter in Slay The Princess... without the "eating them alive" aspect, of course.

(Heavy Content Warning for that link, by the way. There's a lot of violence/gore/body horror, among other stuff, by virtue of it being a horror game.)

Maybe he'd lock everyone in the First Class cabin and turn off all of the room's electronics, so the only source of light in the cabin would be the wavering moonlight from whatever tiny windows are dotted around. Noah would use the cover of darkness to his advantage and toy with his competitors in a similar vein to how the Ripper had in their challenge that day, darting silently through the shadows to 'capture' his castmates, picking them off one by one.

It'd be a fun game of cat-and-mouse for Noah. For the others? It'd be a living nightmare. They wouldn't have the luxury of knowing that Noah wouldn't really hurt them, and the bloodlust they'd seen on that screen would be terrifying to watch but downright petrifying to experience first hand. They would be genuinely fearing for their lives, in a way that Chris hadn't been able to prompt since the early days of Island, and the host would love it.

Not that he would do that. And not that Noah would actually attack anyone either. (Without reason to, of course.)

But you are right about one thing; if this AU were to become a fully-fledged story, the London challenge would have to be a reward, just to keep Noah in the competition. Because he literally snapped Zeke's arms like chopsticks- his team would vote him out in a heartbeat just by virtue of him being so dangerous.

Which means the whole of Team Chris (plus Duncan) would be sharing a poorly-lit, structurally unsound cabin with someone they're terrified of.

...Owen notwithstanding, since Owen's a sweetheart and he knows Noah.

But the others would be immediately on guard around him. Noah, knowing there's no reason to keep up his ruse of sarcastic apathy, would probably relish in their fear- he enjoys tormenting people, after all, especially when that torment is purely psychological. So he'd carry on playing the 'unhinged, bloodthirsty sociopath' just to watch the others squirm.

He'd probably make a huge show of still having the Ripper's knife, tucked safely in the sleeve of his white undershirt, and comment that he and Duncan could be 'knife buddies' or something. If only to see how the punk's pierced face would drain of all colour at the prospect of Noah having a sharp object. (Duncan would absently rub at the puncture scars on his hand, to Noah's delight.)

But it'd eventually get boring, I imagine, so Noah would do something to reassure his teammates that he's not some ethics-devoid monster hellbent on destruction. Because having your teammates be in a state of constant paranoia around you would get annoying after a while, and it'd impact their performance in the competition (which Noah isn't really all that concerned with, but Owen is, so Noah doesn't want to do anything to jeopardise their chances of winning challenges).

So he'd drop the exaggeration of his more violent traits, and intentionally show off the unharmful aspects of himself- namely by koala-clinging to Owen and acting 'normally' like they'd done before the London challenge, and/or by approaching Tyler to ask how he was feeling after being stretched on the rack and sheepishly apologise for leaving him behind (showing empathy and remorse, to humanise himself n front of his teammates).

He's insane, not heartless.

As for Alejandro...? I have no idea. Would he even want to risk approaching Noah to find out if their shared comradery was all a ruse? Would whatever tentative trust he had in Noah be completely shattered by the reveal? Or would he be so engulfed by his need to win the competition that he only views this new development as a boon, since now Noah can be more of a physical asset for their team?

It'd probably be a mix of all of these. Alejandro would be left off-footed by the reveal of p!Noah's 'true self' (however much of his 'true self' he's willing to show to others) but I imagine he'd be quick to ally himself with the guy who can break bones like they're chalk and deceive a whole cast of people for two and a half seasons, regardless of any personal misgivings.

#anyway i think it's funnier to leave gwen and courtney in the dark for a while. team amazon tries explaining it to them but--#they refuse to hear it. really? noah? the guy who was almost voted out third in island because he wouldn't throw a dodgeball? that guy?#and noah is overjoyed that there's still people who'll underestimate him on the jet. even moreso because now he has a captive audience for-#when he intentionally carries on the ruse with gwen and courtney. the others watch it happen like witnesss of a trainwreck.#p!noah's a chaos gremlin who thrives on sewing discourse and brewing malcontent #BUT he's not a mindless violence machine. he's just a little silly.#also could you imagine chris setting up a whole ass challenge where he lets noah run wild? it's a shame the horror challenge for the wt--#already happened because p!noah would make SUCH a good 'killer'.#total drama #td noah #td owen #td alejandro #td duncan #team chris is really really really really hot #chris mclean #psycho!noah au #silly ideas #others' ideas #replies #cw violence

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for-ests · 2 months

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Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 (ao3) (wattpad)

Summary: Your brother's teacher takes you out to the bar, and a deal is made. And when you arrive back at his apartment, you realize your feelings may just be reciprocated. Wc: 5,513 Warnings: slight smut at the end

The noise, the chatter, and the peaceful ambiance of it all still failed to take your attention away from the sorcerer sitting across the table from you. One beer in and giddy off an electrifying buzz, he was still your focus.

You craved to know more about him and couldn't understand why. Even if he was captivating and refused your request to buy him a drink and bought all of your drinks instead, you were still on edge. Still defiant, still suspicious.

Maybe you weren't wrong in assuming he wanted more from you. Whether it was your abilities or your body, a part of you was willing to indulge in either. One was for your brother's future, and the other was for pleasure. Selfishness from either of you would undoubtedly bring destruction, so an agreement had to be made. But that was hasty. Regardless, you would make him writhe.

Was that normal? Was it normal for you to feel this way, to wish for more but also play the same game?

The bar was buzzing with countryside locals. Being a resident of Tokyo, you felt slightly out of place but were able to notice a few others who were also newcomers. Even if it was a Friday night, you were still surprised to see so many people inside the nameless bar Gojo brought you to.

You brought the second drink to your lips, indulging in the refreshing taste. The night was only starting, yet you were feeling a buzz. You were out of your element for sure, already flustered by arriving at an unfamiliar place with an incredibly attractive man.

The eyes of women on him and you were no distraction, only a nuisance.

"If you really think I can help Yuji, I accept." You shrugged.

"It's not just him you would be helping," Gojo assured, "You would help me too…" He paused, chewing on the inside of his lip with uncertainty. Would it be wise to tell you? His reasons were selfish. To discover such a unique and untouched cursed ability was a blessing in itself, and you were inexperienced and unaware of the target you would soon have on your back if you decided to work with him. He would keep you in the dark if you were any other person. That's what he usually did. But when you looked at him like this, with such curiosity and hope in your eyes, he could not hide the truth from you.

Instead, he wanted you to know everything. Not just about him but the entire world you had minimal information about.

You raised an eyebrow, placing your now-finished cocktail glass against the wooden table. The sound snapped him out of his daze, making him realize a few minutes had passed in silence. You hadn't interrupted him but instead watched him struggle internally, knowing he was battling with something to admit.

Gojo stared at you, thankfully through the shield of his blindfold, and absorbed your undying spirit. The same aura he felt in your younger brother. "I don't want to be selfish with you, but your cursed abilities are rare and can be beneficial to not just me, but others I don't trust."

"So you're saying—"

"I want you all to myself—" Gojo practically blurted, his eyes widening as he realized how it sounded. He recovered quickly, though, "You report only to me, and in return, I train you, make you stronger."

"I thought so." You leaned forward with a smug expression on your face. Internally, you relished his slip-ups but knew they came from a genuine place. All you wanted him to know was that you weren't as oblivious as you appeared.

"What?"

"I'm not an idiot, Gojo." You rested your chin in your hand, propped up by your elbow. "Why else would you be so interested in me?" You tilted your head to the bar, and then your eyes flickered down to the form-fit cashmere sweater you were wearing, purchased by him. "You're trying to butter me up for a proposal."

There were a lot of reasons why Gojo was interested in you. And he was staring at one of them— your plump, glossy lips turning into an all-knowing smirk. He didn't want to look lower at the way your jeans undoubtedly hugged your curves with little room for imagination, for it would make his intentions obvious. Even if you couldn't tell.

The white-haired sorcerer was only a man at the end of the day. Clearing his throat, he said, "It's dangerous, Y/N. What happened last night was nothing compared to what can happen. I may be the strongest, but I need you to be second when I'm gone. For the kids, for your brother."

"So I have to be with you, or something bad will happen to me?"

At a loss for words, Gojo almost stammered. Truthfully, you would never be able to comprehend all that could happen to you. You had a taste only the night before, but that came short of the possibilities. He had hardly figured out Yuji's future, and now he had to solve yours.

You were unprepared. You were not ready. A situation that Gojo failed to predict, possibly from your curse technique.

"The second you found out Yuji was your brother, your life would never be the same."

"I know." Your eyes darkened. Not just from the memories of the night before but also from instances of your past. When you hadn't been strong enough, when you were naive. "Thank you for being honest."

A moment passed in silence, and all you could do was take another sip of your cocktail. You were definitely way in over your head. You knew that, but it felt like you were destined to do this.

"I'm not trying to scare you. But I have to warn you." He frowned. "You don't have to stay here. The choice is yours. I can send you off somewhere that is safer, but you won't be able to see Yuji. There are some things even I can't do." Gojo paused. "A lot of people want Yuji dead. A lot of people want me even more dead."

Hearing that confession from the strongest man you encountered was more than enough to make you truly understand. Taking a breath in, you summoned your ability. Colors of grey swirled in your vision, but they were peaceful. Even if you couldn't see his soul, you knew he wasn't lying.

"I'm not leaving him," you whispered.

"I know. That would be the safer option if you were a regular human. But you're not. I can help you unlock more, too. Not just for others, but also yourself."

"I'll do it."

"Do you want to, though?" He responded with a more distressed tone. "I won't always be nice to you. I'm holding you to a higher standard than anyone else. The training will be rigorous, as you have a lot of catching up to do."

"We can figure something out," you said, leaning back against your chair to gain space. Gojo actually seemed worried for once, and you didn't know how to feel about it. Instead, your insecurities came forth. "But what if we find out I'm not what you thought I could be?"

"You are," Gojo said quickly. "You just have to want it more than anything."

Part of you was still unsure if he was referring to himself, not just the plan he was concocting. But when you stepped back from the more trivial things in life, this was what you wanted. What you had been craving for. The loneliness, the tightening of your throat whenever you pondered your purpose.

"I accept," you said, trying to focus on his face. Again, you were desperate to see his eyes. Maybe it was a habit, for you didn't have to pry into someone's soul to see their intentions. It was usually evident on the surface.

"Nobody else will know about you, until I want them to."

"I assume you know best, and will clarify later," you sighed. "You don't have to convince me. Being here feels right anyways…" You faltered again. "Listening to my intuition has never failed me. There's not a whole lot waiting for me back home anymore."

"Except?" he asked, taking a swig of his own beer.

"My job. That's about it," you replied. "They can always replace me."

"Doesn't seem like you were happy there anyways."

"It was good work…" you hesitated. "But not for someone like me."

Gojo didn't have to ask for details. The look in your eyes was enough, and so were the details you already provided. The gifts you had could not reach fruition in that environment. If you let them, you would be taking advantage of regular citizens. That was why he already admired you, because you refused to go down that path without otherworldly influences.

He told you about his own struggles, his own restrictions, his own concerns. Yet none of them deterred you. He seemed to care deeply about the younger generation, which solidified your acceptance into this life, past the more trivial aspects such as his appearance.

"You found me." He smirked. "Something better."

How was he able to execute something so cocky as something sweet? You inhaled, shaking your head to remove the blush threatening to grace your cheeks. How he talked to you, respectfully and in a complimentary manner, made it seem like he wanted more than just your abilities. And your heart wanted to explore that, too.

"To celebrate, I think you should buy something from the top shelf?" You tried to dare, but it came out more innocent and polite. There was no upper hand from either of you. It was an equal exchange, as both of you needed the other. You needed his knowledge, and he needed your power.

"Didn't think it was possible for you to be even hotter," Gojo chuckled, glancing at your lips, and then your hand. "What do you want?" He slid off his stool. "I can get you everything, too."

"Thank you," You replied smoothly, feeling the lingering in his eyes. Had he taken notice of your own? He was trying to gauge your reaction. Your body contradicted your words, and you knew it. You could feel the heat rising from your face and the lower parts of you unseen. Your ears burned. Was it normal to feel so attracted to him so quickly? One compliment from him, and you were a stuttering mess.

Inhaling sharply, you tried to shove those questions away. "What's your favorite? I haven't had the opportunity to try any of them," you admitted, but the excitement didn't disappear.

"Be right back." Gojo winked, the over-encumbered motion shifting his blindfold. "Just keep looking pretty for me."

For the next few hours you spent with him in that bar, you ruminated over his words. Trivia happened to be the event for that night, and the crowd grew in size, as did the noise. Your drunkenness did as well, and so did Gojo's. Both of you were incredibly relaxed, and as the winners were announced, he set his arm around your shoulders, both of you retreating to a more secluded part of the bar.

His half-embrace made you giggle, and you took the last sip of your drink, which was watered down at that point. The conversation between you and him had been endless, and you wished the night didn't have to end. But it was the last call.

"How ya feeling?" Gojo asked, tilting his head down to look at you. He was so close and unfiltered, and you could smell the scotch on his breath as it fanned down your neck. "Ready to go back?"

You needed to devise some excuse to make your night with him last longer. "I'm not drunk enough yet." You pouted.

Suddenly, you felt something hard press against your lower back. Gojo snickered as he revealed the chilled glass bottle. "Something for the road!"

"Did you steal that?" You whispered with a smile of disbelief.

"Maaayybbeee." He pressed his finger against your lips. "Don't tell anybody."

"I actually planned to tell everyone," you replied, giggling as Gojo ushered you outside. The rush of the night caused you to instinctively press into him for shelter. He towered over you, and you loved it.

He hummed in response. "Don't worry, I won't let you walk back."

And like the last time, you couldn't muster a reply before you were transported back to Jujutsu High.

The two of you stumbled into the common room. You collided against the doorframe with your first step, etching a startled whine to leave your mouth. But then you started to laugh, rubbing your forehead with an eye roll.

Those heavenly colors were still in the back of your mind. And you were having trouble distinguishing them from the man himself. This might very well be the first man you could not configure. Would that be the death of you?

Gojo laughed as well and held out his hand. "You alright?" He asked.

Glancing up at his smile, you felt warm. No, you were sober enough. Definitely feeling the liquor but ready to indulge. Hopefully, to get more information out of him.

Intertwining your fingers with his, you nodded. "Totally. Zero chance there will be a bruise tomorrow."

"It's only your third time teleporting?" He teased. "I think you're doing a great job."

"I better be," you huffed, glancing at the sofa beside you. The common room was comfortable enough. The students often used it with CDs, blankets, and games scattered around. Everything you needed was there. "A drink will certainly help."

You slumped against the couch with a groan, kicking off your shoes in the next movement. Gojo walked across the room and grabbed two glasses from the kitchenette.

Satoru let himself fall onto the couch beside you and immediately let out a satisfied groan. He closed his eyes and leaned against your side, putting one arm over you. You could feel his body heat warm your own. A few seconds passed like that.

"So," You began as he poured you a glass. "Movie or game?"

"The question game." He poured his own glass with a smile. "Unless you don't wanna know more about me?"

"Of course I do!" You rolled your eyes. He knew you were trying to be considerate. It was late, after all, and you'd been talking all night. But it felt so natural with him. "I just didn't know if you could handle more drinks." Your eyes glimmered teasingly as you took a gulp of the top-shelf whiskey.

"I can handle more," He assured, grinning after taking a sip. "If that's what it takes to spend more time with you." His tone was softer, and before you could respond, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You immediately blushed, blinking in surprise. It was no innocent kiss, and you knew it, which almost made you freeze. Did he really mean it? Were you crazy to enjoy it, let alone want more? But of course, your body spoke for you, and you leaned into Gojo's embrace. "You wanna get to know me?"

"Of course I do," He whispered, leaning up to your ear and speaking so that you physically shivered. He brushed your hair aside teasingly slow, before kissing the base of your neck. He heard your breath hitch and felt your body instinctively relax. "It is like that, huh?" He mumbled against your skin, inhaling the perfume he could smell in your hair all night. It was addicting, and he kissed your neck again, harder that time, teeth almost threatening to reveal.

"I was afraid I misread the situation," Gojo said, gaining the sense to pull his head back, realizing that the drunkenness was setting in quicker than he expected.

"You're just drunk!" You stuttered, feeling your skin burn even after he pulled away. He wasn't being fair. "How drunk are you?"

He laughed, leaning back against the couch again. "On a scale of one to ten?" He thought out loud. "Like… a six point five? Is that possible?"

"Teleporting here definitely zapped you."

He looked over at you, chuckling once more. "Not that it matters. What matters is…" He paused, a slight grin settling on his face. "What matters is that I enjoyed my time with you," He said, leaning closer to you, but plucking the glass from the table and downing it quickly.

"I hope I didn't scare you off… getting drunk and acting…" He trailed off and chuckled nervously.

"Kissing me?" You chuckled. "Yeah... we might have to talk about that."

Sheepishly turned back to you. "Yeah… yeah. Probably need to explain that a bit, huh?" He said with a teasing smile. The effects of the alcohol were definitely kicking in, as he was satirizing most of his words and loosening up. "Or we could just kiss more?"

Responding to his invigorating question, you innocently set your glass back on the coffee table. You took a silent, deep breath to calm your nerves, realizing that was what you wanted. Just for a minute, you would indulge.

And then, finally, Gojo gained the courage to close the previously insurmountable gap between you, mending his lips with yours so perfectly that your knees felt like buckling even though you were sitting. One of his hands moved down to grasp your waist, tugging you against him, desperate to taste you.

And you tasted as sweetly as he imagined. Gojo was addicted to one kiss alone and felt his heart cry out when you reciprocated and deepened the kiss, your smaller hands clawing at him with the same amount of need. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time, but even then, it was more, it was incomparable.

It scared him.

"Gojo…" You muttered against his lips, your heart beating rapidly and with so much desire you could hardly fathom the emotions racing through your head. He tasted just like the honey you thought he would, and you knew then that it would be the new drug you would seek for the rest of your life.

It scared you.

Granting you with one more passionate kiss, Gojo pulled his head back. Your eyes fluttered open, and you gave him a questioning stare, filled with the slight annoyance of not being able to read what he was feeling, too.

"Want more Princess?" He chuckled, leaning back in. The brush of his lips was enough to make your stomach flip. You closed your eyes and breathed in sharply, unable to fathom if you actually saw stars collide in the back of your mind, either a warning or a blessing.

He hesitated before kissing you again, seeming to contemplate the same feelings you had. Things were moving too fast, but it was addicting. And in the next breath, Gojo pulled you onto his lap, nipping the bottom of your lip as you adjusted and sank against him. His hands immediately snaked around your waist and held you against him tighter.

Desperate for more contact, your arms looped around his neck, your mouth parting to allow his tongue access, the taste of the expensive whiskey still lingering in his breath.

His touch, the position he put you in, and what you felt hardening underneath you was enough to etch a moan from you. And he relished in it. Calloused hands moved from your hips to scoop your ass, squeezing it gently. Testing the waters to see your reaction.

Gojo pulled back slightly, lips still grazing yours. "Doesn't take much to make you moan, huh?"

"Shut up," you whispered before kissing him again. Why couldn't you stop? Why did it feel so good? You'd kissed many men before and had meaningful relationships with them. But you were too intuitive for the average man.

This felt different. It felt like you already knew him, you were comfortable with him—that you would let him do whatever he wanted with you.

His lips were so soft, and his tongue kept you occupied while his hands debated to explore lower. The option was there; both of you knew it. It could be exhilarating.

Oh, how tempting you were. Gojo could hardly contain himself when you rocked against him, your skin burning with desire, your eyes fluttering when he moved his lips to your jawline, peppering sweet kisses and whispering under his breath. "Y/N…" he said, "You're teasing me…" He wanted to so badly, but he had to do it right.

"You're making it hard to say no…" you whimpered lustfully, as if you were under his spell, your neck tilting to allow him more access.

Lips almost touching your skin, Gojo stopped abruptly. The drunken smile faded, and he pulled away to look at you, face more somber. "Sorry…Do you not want to?" He whispered quietly.

Your own haze cleared when his predicted kisses never came. Processing his words, you furrowed your eyebrows. "Of course I want to. But its not cool to play with my feelings like this," you whispered, looking at him with a sudden softness. "I'm afraid we won't remember…" you trailed off, referring to the copious amount of liquor the both of you consumed.

Grin turning slightly bashful, Gojo took your hand and placed his lips on your palm. "How rude of you to assume that I would play with your feelings."

You blushed again, cherishing the way his lips felt against your palm. He turned your hand around and kissed the other side. The urgency that filled your makeout session was gone and instead replaced with a deeper yearning for something more.

"I've seemed to remember everything about you. What makes you think I wouldn't remember our first kiss?" Gojo grinned, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you closer.

"I don't know…" You shrugged, grasping his hand as your eyes finally flickered back to his face.

God, how you wanted to look into his eyes. Everything was so uncertain when it came to him.

All you wanted was that confirmation. To honestly know that he was what you suspected.

"You're keeping secrets from me, and you're very good at distracting me from uncovering them."

Nodding slowly at your accusation, the blush on his face said more than his voice did; the way he'd treated you the whole night directly contradicted what you worried about. But that was what made you clever and all the more intriguing to him. Material things or convoluted promises couldn't sway you. What kept you close to him was the same feeling he'd been ruminating over, something unique and unexplainable.

"Your beauty can only get you so far with a man like me," Gojo whispered, resting his hands on your hips. "Time will give you the answers you need." Gojo knew you were used to knowing someone immediately, as that was the downside of your gift. Whether you wanted to know everything or not, you did. Even if it were selfish of him, he would make you wait just a little longer to tell if your commitment was palatable.

"And kissing me, giving gifts and compliments will only get you so far with a woman like me," You replied, setting your hands over his and lifting them from your waist.

They fell to his sides so abruptly that he paused, frowning as he gazed up at you. "You didn't like it?" His question was almost like a whine. He definitely knew the answer, though. Your words couldn't dispute the way your body moved against his own, so desperate and welcoming.

The look in your eyes was so tender, enough to make him understand why you so desperately wanted to see his.

"Would I still be in your lap?" You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

Gojo laughed from the sass you weren't afraid to give him. "Right, right," He sighed, resting his hands on your hips again, feeling your muscles relax. "I suppose that's true. But maybe I wanna hear you say it."

"Kissing you felt good."

He stayed silent for a moment, seeming unsatisfied. "Could you... say it again?"

"I loved kissing you, Satoru."

Gojo paused, his grip tightening around you, unsure how to respond. "That's not what I-" He stopped, face flushing more. "You loved kissing me...?"

So, that was something he was insecure about. Love. What a strange thing to not understand. You found it hard to believe that someone like him would not have it from everyone who came into contact with him.

"Should I not say what I felt?" You questioned with a smirk, one of your hands playing with his hair while the other reached for your glass so you could take another gulp. "You know that I'm not a liar," you teased.

Everything about you was so compelling to Gojo. He wanted you all to himself and felt blessed to spend this moment with you. A part of him felt jealous of any other man who had touched you in a similar way.

Sinking back into the couch, Gojo pulled you down with him. Somehow, the sofa was big enough for the both of you to lay almost side by side. Half of your body was still entirely pressed against Gojo, but he didn't seem to care. "You loved kissing me, hmm?" He repeated with a smirk, looking at you almost as though he was asking for confirmation.

Rolling your eyes again, you reached for a folded blanket and pulled it over the both of you. "You are ridiculous."

Humming with relief, Gojo shifted you closer, resting his head across your chest. Surprised at first, you almost froze. He was acting so satisfied with your presence and your simple actions. He was cuddling against you like you'd done it before, as if he also knew just how perfectly your body fit with his.

Tilting his head to look up at you, he gave you a cheeky grin. "You wouldn't mind if… I were to share the couch with you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Grin or not, he somehow looked earnest when he asked the question.

"I'm comfortable," you whispered with a smile, etching him to move into a more practical position. Face to face, his lips only an inch from yours. "I probably won't do this again, though."

"My bed next time then," He smirked, lifting his arm, snapping his fingers, and turning off all the lights. You and Gojo were both too lazy and drunk to bother getting up and retreating to your rooms. And, the innocence of cuddling on the couch was irrefutable.

Then he leaned forward and placed another kiss upon your lips. He pulled away quickly, though, before you could mend your lips with his. You felt like a child, yet welcomed it. With anyone else, you would feel indifferent and nervous. But laying on that uncomfortable couch beside the white-haired sorcerer made your heart beat faster. The last thing you would have ever predicted. No matter if it would come with a cost, you were glad to experience it.

"I don't know why I trust you, Y/N. But I do," Gojo whispered, "I hope you stick around."

There was still enough lighting from the flashing, muted television to see his face. He was still drunk, just like you, but the playfulness in his expression was gone and replaced with a somber longing you didn't think possible.

"Are drunk words really sober thoughts?" You teased even though you didn't want to. It was still a genuine question. There was no way he felt that way about you, felt the same otherworldly connection you did. "Do you actually mean that?"

He nodded, grinning. "Drunk words are sober thoughts for me," He insisted, chuckling. All you could do was gaze at him. Despite your distrust of anyone new, you felt the same. You wanted to trust him, rely on him, and know him more intimately than anyone else had.

Gojo paused, his grin fading as he continued. "I do, and I just can't stay away from you. It's just…" He took a deep breath. "It's embarrassing, you know?" He trailed off, and then he looked back at you. "Do you not feel the same way?" He asked suddenly, his expression one of hope.

Everything you wanted to tell him but couldn't find ways to express flooded your mind. It felt strange to be so overwhelmed by a stranger. Feeling so connected to him and configure your yearning was correct and welcomed. There was still so much to learn about him, and you had no doubt he wondered the same about you. But being there, laying with him on that old and stale couch, was enough.

Breath hitching, you pressed your lips back against his. You were blushing like crazy yet caved into what your heart and soul yearned for—him. "Yes Satoru," You muttered between kisses, hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "I feel the same."

Satoru's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden vulnerability. It was refreshing how easily you matched him and how you wanted more. He kissed you back enthusiastically, not wanting to stop. No woman had ever drawn him so profoundly as you had. No touch or kiss made his heart burst like you. Even just a reply from you satisfied him.

He would do anything for you, and it scared him. But maybe, just maybe, he deserved it. Of course, he was frightened to welcome you into his world, but for once, he knew you could handle it. You wanted to handle it; you were insistent. And that was what mattered.

What kind of man would he be to deny your destiny?

Time passed quickly while you two kissed, and soon, you broke apart, panting and out of breath. Gojo still grinned at you, with a light flush across his cheeks.

As the drunkness continued to fall away, Gojo seemed to be more and more himself. His confidence returned, and his infatuation did, too. "You've seemed to cast a spell on me," he whispered tauntingly. It took everything in him to keep his hands and thoughts at bay. You were not the type of woman he could play with. He was granted enough that night with your kisses and unfiltered confessions.

"You want me?" You asked, leaning into him, breathless from your second makeout session. You felt so comfortable in his embrace, wondering why he was able to vanquish all your nerves and worries. Why were you so quick to be honest with him? Your position with him, no matter the timing, felt so right. But still, you were afraid of the connection only being a one-time thing. It was hard to dispel the trauma you faced with men, and you were instinctively building those walls around your heart.

Satoru nodded, smiling. "How could I not?" He murmured, and then he leaned in and placed a kiss on your lips once more. Your eyes fluttered, and you sighed heavily when you pulled your head back.

He looked at you, the smile on his face finally fading. He was giddy, and it was adorable. But what was really on his mind was that no man had claimed you. With how beautiful you were, your intelligence, wittiness, energy, and strength. It baffled him. But in the back of his mind, maybe with your impending influence, was that you were meant to be his and his alone.

Perhaps you truly were made for him, to be there for his struggles and be able to understand.

You would be able to handle it. You wanted to be the one. Not just for him, but for the others he cared deeply for and couldn't express. The most perfect match that Gojo knew he didn't deserve.

But you, a woman who could shatter the boundaries of the mind he could not, did.

"You confuse me," He whispered, face flushing even more. Satoru was never one to be so vulnerable. To literally anyone else he'd ever known. But this was a special moment and a particular person. "You give me feel-"

"Feelings you've never experienced before?" You hummed lowly, curling into him further. "I'm confused too."

Gojo chuckled, and it vibrated through your entire body. You knew what he was trying to express, but it would ultimately be impossible at that moment. Knowing him for such a short time made you realize just how genuine he was. Somehow, unlike anyone else, you could understand, read, and know what he meant. You would welcome it with open arms, whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Hearing his heartbeat was enough. And reality started to slip away into nothingness. Peacefulness.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Gojo whispered.

The last thing you felt was his fingers combing through your hair. Wishing for him, to see all of him. What a blessing that would be. Gojo gave you safety and comfort. Every touch, every conversation, every look.

So, you cuddled against him, falling asleep to the beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, wondering what it would feel like to be his one and only, already suspecting that was meant to be.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen

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sidonisms · 4 months

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Fairy Queen Titania, wife of King Gloxinia, originator of Tír na nÓg

Loooong character bio/story summary because I struggle with writing long fics!! I wish I could write a whole story about these two and their relationship but know I wouldn't finish it ;;

Her special ability is Wither, any living thing she touches will decay almost instantly — excluding fairies as their bodies don't rot even in death and she isn't able to turn it off. To compound her destructive nature, Titania isn't capable of any of the nature-nourishing magic that is innate to the Fairy Clan. Because her special ability is similar to an aspect of the Fairy Kings' ability, Disaster, but only the aspect of decay, Titania was surrounded by skeptics.

In her young life she was subtly outcast from the community by her fellow fairies. Titania spent decades of her life lonely and despising the fact that she was failing her duty as a fairy until she met the King of Fairies, Gloxinia. Gloxinia was curious about Titania's abilities as he noticed that even though Wither was destructive in the moment in following decades all flora that grew where Wither was used came up healthier and heartier, though Titania and the other fairies had their doubts.

The two spent years together trying to understand how to get control of Wither, though Titania was holding out hope that he would a way to remove her "curse" permanently. Slowly, the attempts to help her shifted into spending time together simply because they enjoyed each other's company. Gloxinia had it as his personal mission to try and make the sad woman smile with tricks or jokes or games, anything he could to try and lift her spirits.

It was through that closeness that they were able to learn that Gloxinia himself was able to neutralize her decay ability, just by being capable of using Disaster. With Gloxinia, Titania was able to feel safe enough to spend more time with the other fairies and finally experience what living as part of the community was like. Though Titania still felt like an outsider or a guest, rather than a complete part of the Fairy Clan.

Using her magic, Titania created an island for herself called Tír na nÓg, the effort she spent nearly ended up killing her. She only survived thanks to Gloxinia finding her and getting the help of the other fairies to heal her. The creation of Tír na nÓg granted Titania an immortal lifespan as her magic is tied to every living thing on the island. As long as a single blade of grass grows, Titania and any mortal being will live.

Tír na nÓg was the first place that Titania truly safe and comfortable, as she could walk around without worrying about upsetting anyone as she withered the flora around her. Only those who are given permission can set foot on or even find the island. One could search for a thousand years for the Land of the Young and never see its shores. It's Titania's own safe haven. She granted permission to her dear friend Gloxinia and it became a place for the two of them to spend an untold amount of time together, relishing in each other's company.

Eventually, their relationship evolved past companionship into love and eventually marriage. As it was the wedding of the first King of the Fairies, it was a gathering full of friends and love. Even the ever-anxious Titania was more rambunctious and lively, keeping the party alive until well into the next day with singing, dancing, and drink. On her wedding day, Titania truly got to experience being herself, wholly and unapologetically.

On the first night they spent together as a married couple, a nearby flower was made to bloom from the joy Titania felt and once she noticed it she was so overwhelmed at being able to create life for the first time, she cried while holding it. Gloxinia blessed it to never die and tucked it into her hair, his first gift as her husband and her most treasured possession.

However, following the ancient Holy War and the disappearance of Gloxinia as he joined the Demon Clan, Titania's joy came to an end. Without Gloxinia there to tether her to the forest, she retreated to Tír na nÓg permanently. No one within the Fairy Clan knew what happened to her and for thousands of years, until the unsealing of the Coffin of Eternal Darkness and Gloxinia's return.

Wanting to know the fate of his wife, Gloxinia asks Gerheade and the other fairies if anyone has heard anything about Titania as no one seems to mention her. Through them, Gloxinia learns about her vanishing but no one can say for sure what became of her. Taking this as a chance, he asks those at the Boar Hat to keep an ear open for rumors. He confesses that no matter how hard he tries he can't find Tír na nÓg and suspects that becoming a demon severed his connection.

Tír na nÓg might have been her personal paradise but he's sure she would have allowed other misfits like her to find refuge in its eternal paradise. Eventually, a lead turns up and brings them to an old woman with a much darker story to tell than Gloxinia is expecting. The old woman spent time on Tír na nÓg herself as one of the immortal Fair Folk. As a young woman, she was mistreated by the people of her village when one night a beautiful young woman appeared and offered her a place in paradise.

She spent years in Tír na nÓg, living in a place of beauty and bounty when she met a man she would soon fall in love with and wanted to return to the mainland to raise a family. The ruler of Tír na nÓg refused to allow them to leave, viewing the rest of the world as an inescapable hell, and warned them of the severe consequences if they should ask again. So the lovers devised a plan to escape the island that was as much a prison as it was a paradise. Under the cover of night for weeks they built a boat to flee on. When the night to escape came, the forest began to shake and shudder and rot as the full power of the ruler of Tír na nÓg approached them.

The man sacrificed his chance to escape and shoved the boat out, promising to distract the tyrant holding them prisoner and promising to find her. And so the old woman has been waiting for decades now, alone in her home. She laments leaving the love of her life behind, knowing that if he's alive she's aged well beyond her beautiful prime and fears for all the other poor souls that the tyrant has preyed upon. Her sweet voice promising the outcasts of society a home and safety only to chain them like dogs in a beautiful, immortal prison.

The woman's story lives Gloxinia reeling. He can't imagine his dear, sad Titania being capable of that level of cruelty but he also knows just what grief can drive someone to do. What it drove him to do. Gloxinia asks the woman if she knows any way to get back to Tír na nÓg which she confirms, giving him some stones from the shore as anything taken from Tír na nÓg can lead someone back. After expressing his gratitude, he takes the stones and returns to Meliodas to decide what to do next.

The group follows Gloxinia as he heads to Tír na nÓg and is unsettled by the eerie atmosphere and fog that hangs over the island. Screamers attack as they make landfall and quickly hide to avoid the sight of a fairy woman patrolling over the forest canopy. Slowly making their way through the forest, they encounter a village filled with terrified humans who beg them to bring them back to the mainland. The commotion is cut off by a man matching the description the old woman gave of her love, a man named Nico, who explains the reason the island is in the state that it's in.

Titania, the tyrant of Tír na nÓg has been using tricks to bring humans to the island against their will, even going so far as taking children and babies from their parents and replacing them with changelings if they weren't loving them enough in her eyes. Following the escape of one human woman, his beloved, an enchanted fog appeared around the shores, choking anyone who attempted to leave. It seems day by day, Titania falls further into madness. The island has been subject to earthquakes for the past few days as the ruler of Tír na nÓg is punishing them but no one knows for what reason. Gloxinia promises that he can fix this and when questioned, he simply smiles and says it's his duty as a husband to soothe his wife.

Their conversation is interrupted when a woman spots them talking to outsiders, flicking between everyone before calling them traitors and sprinting away into the forest to inform Titania. The man urges them to do whatever they're going to do quickly as they might not survive the day when Titania finds out.

Gloxinia hopes that Titania might come to her senses as soon as they reunite but the constant unending attacks from Screamers, the mysterious fairy, and the forest itself make him question his optimism. And sure enough when face to face with Titania, her eyes tinged with mania, those hopes are dashed. She calls them thieves and begins attacking. Gloxinia tries to calm her but for years Titania was tortured by visions of Gloxinia and believes him to be another one.

During the battle, Elizabeth asks why she's tormenting the villagers. Titania says she doesn't want to do any of it, they just need to give back the thing that they stole from her. It's then that Gloxinia notices the flower that he gifted her isn't in her hair but he can sense his magic nearby. He orders the others to hold her off while he finds it but makes it clear that if they hurt her too badly there would be hell to pay. Ban shoos him off saying they'll do whatever they need to do to make sure she doesn't kill anyone. Gloxinia isn't amused.

It takes some time and he's forced to fight the mystery fairy girl — Oberon, loyal attendant of Titania — but eventually Gloxinia finds the flower in the village. And it's utterly torn to shreds. Gloxinia picks up the damaged petals, looking utterly heartbroken when Nico appears behind him. Gloxinia asks if he was the one that destroyed the flower, which Nico confirms. He resents Titania for keeping him trapped here as one of her Fair Folk while the woman he loves will wait for him until she dies. Destroying the only thing she seems to treasure felt like a fitting punishment after she destroyed his happiness.

Gloxinia thanks him for his honesty and promises that Titania won't find out who stole the flower. He doesn't blame Nico for doing what he did but tells him that as her husband he can't stand knowing how sad she would feel if he didn't return it to her, then flies back towards the battle.

As he appears back on the battlefield, Oberon has joined Titania, even though she's injured. The pair of them look exhausted, having to take on the Sins but not too worse for wear. He flies up to Titania, offering the shreds of his first gift to her, and in an instant Titania begins crying - utterly horrified by what's happened to it. She swears she's going to kill everyone on the island but gets cut off by Gloxinia kissing the tip of her nose and chiding her for crying over something so trite.

In an instant, he injects his magic into the flower, healing it and restoring the bloom to full vitality. Titania is stunned, not believing her eyes before slowly reaching out and touching Gloxinia's face to confirm he's really there and not a hallucination. Once she confirms it, she utterly collapses into him, apologizing and begging for forgiveness but once again he chides her for her dramatics. He tucks the flower back into its rightful place in her hair before embracing her properly and finally kissing his wife again after three thousand years apart.

Following Titania's return to her senses, she returns the children to their families and allows everyone to leave Tír na nÓg. To her surprise, some choose to stay. As long as Titania is the same kind, just queen she was when they first arrived they're more than happy to stay. Oberon hands Titania a magic stone they can communicate through and says she'll take care of the Fair Folk while their queen spends time with her husband. If they need anything or she needs them, a message into the stone is all it will take. Nico doesn't hesitate to climb on the boat back to the mainland, ready to finally be with the love of his life again and fulfill his promise.

Gloxinia is just happy to be with Titania again and show her the world, the new fairy forest, whatever she wants as long as they can stay together.

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #gloxinia #sds #7ds #nnt #sds oc #seven deadly sins oc #7ds oc #oc x canon

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