#but some things MUST be included for the purposes of angst

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[thisisxli]

Hajime x tooru's twin sister!reader who is bold president of a science club in school headcanons?

OOOOH this is a MUST

Miss the old haikyuu 2020 days fr. And man is this my best work yet trust🙏

Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader(Tooru's twin)

Rs: Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader (Tooru's twin sister)

Warnings: ANGST, a little bit of bullying, awkward talks of teenage sex, sexual depictions, suggested themes, nsfw(lasts for a sentence or two), disorder mentioned, implied death

Tags: sad.. Bittersweet, fluff, hajime is so cute, hajime acts soft around reader, childhood friends to lovers, high school sweethearts, old age, marriage, a little smut

Recommended song: (play by the end)

wc: 1.5k

a/n: this made me feel nostalgic and pretty sad to write imo.

How you met/first impressions:

You met each other through your brother, Tooru. Tooru was snarky and keen on keeping his best friend to himself but you were even more petty. When Tooru was distracted on trying to set a ball, you would quickly grab Hajime by the wrist and drag him to your hiding place. Occasionally, it would change because your brother would somehow find it.. always.

To Hajime, you had to be one of the prettiest girls he's ever seen in all of his six years of living. You.. also became his first heartbreak. He proposed to you with a ring pop and you refused. "Pee-yew! I don't wanna marry you, Iwa!" He was left super dejected and sulked until Tooru was forced to distract him to get his mind off things. Ever since then, he was always teasing you and making smart ass remarks at you.

He was a odd boy. What made you like and wanna hang around him like Tooru does was that Hajime was adventurous. He seemed strong too. And you wanted two boys to look up to anyways to treat you like queen so you tried your best to boss both Tooru and Hajime around. You entirely started to acknowledge Hajime when he comforted you after Tooru hit you in the head with a volleyball.

How you start to like each other:

Hajime has always liked you since you were little kids. Obviously. But he made sure it wasn't obvious to you or that you were merely someone he stole answers from for science class. Someone who was just his best friend's twin sister. It wasn't like he was gonna stay like this forever... He just didn't know how to approach you. And he has his doubts. He's basically like Paxton Hall Yoshida only that he didn't sleep around and he wasn't that dumb... He just sucked at science. So he goes to you but he makes fun of you for it.

You realize when some random jock drops all the books in your hands on purpose, laughing and high-fiving with his friends. "stupid- STUPID SHITFACE!" Your shout literally reaches everyone's ears. Including Hajime's.

For some reason, the jock gets offended and goes up to you, chest to chest. Except his chest was much larger and higher than yours. "The fuck d'you say?" You nearly recoil when you feel his hot breath hit your face. "I said-" "betta' keep that mouth shut, sweetheart," he cuts you off immediately, wincing when he shoves you against the lockers. People are already crowding and pulling out their phones. Great. But before anything else happens, the jock is roughly jerked back and lands on his butt. And there stands your prince Charming, Hajime Iwaizumi. You notice that his ears are red. Steams were also practically steaming out of his ears. He stomps his way over to the jock that stood up with a small stutter. "Better keep that mouth shut, hm?" Hajime stares the jock down. Clearly, the boy wasn't going to back down so he scoffs, rolling his sleeves up. The jock's eyes quickly widen and murmur a 'my bad ' and takes his leave along with his friends, a few applauses and cat calls being earned from the crowd.

"You okay?" Hajime barely grasps your fingertips in his, looking at you with concern. Your heart was quite literally about to explode over what just occurred.

How you confess:

The tension was awfully SO obvious.. Matsukawa was frantically complaining about the faint flirting and playful teases. But neither you or Hajime did or said nothing. Matsukawa basically face plants at that but he sorts out a plan with Hanamaki and Tooru. Tooru was almost against it but he did have to admit, he literally knew everything about how the two of you felt. And it was painful to watch you and Hajime, it cringed him out LIKE JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY!!

Tooru had sent you a text that he was already home. So it was just you and Hajime. You both left the school in silence. Started walking in silence. Entering your neighborhood in silence. Before you thought another moment was gonna be filled in silence, he tugs you by the wrist. He confesses and pours out everything he knows and feels about you. How long, when, where, etc. You confess too, a smile adorning your face when he looks away all flustered. You kissed him on the cheek before you went in your house, leaving him alone with a hand on his cheek and a slack jaw.

How you get together:

He was waiting for you outside the door after your club meeting ended. He seemed nervous but you knew what he was trying to get at. So you simply do the job for him. "Wanna be my boyfriend?" He gives you that signature head scratching smile, giving you a nod. You both walk home together that late afternoon, holding hands the whole way.

How you kiss:

They're very sweet and slow. Hajime respects you enough to not over step your boundaries unless you ask of him. He gets very wary when you do. "Are you sure? Are you reaallly sure? I don't know.. Suure? Okay, okay- fine, c'mere."

Sometimes things get heated. The way his tongue glides over yours seems like they almost suggest something. You would smirk against his lips and push yourself on top of him to get him flustered on purpose. Or you would... at least try to pin him against a wall. "(Y-Y/N).. We- we can't yet.. not yet.." This would get you very pouty but he kisses you through it and holds you so you don't catch a fit.

What he loves about you (Adults) :

He loves that you stayed through all this time. He's known you about twenty one years and you both have dated each other for nine years. Obviously when it becomes your tenth anniversary, he's gonna propose.. He just doesn't know how... And he seriously did not mean to wait that long..

He loves to kiss your pulses and your eyelids. He thinks those are really intimate to do and he just really loves that you're alive and breathing.

He loves when wrinkles start to spawn whenever you concentrate. It makes him think he'll grow old with you.

When you're married: he loves it when you cling onto him for life on your honeymoon, screaming his name when you're bouncing on his shaft. 'Give me your babies' you chant. It makes him giggle at the thought.

Awkward discussion with your kids:

One of your kids get a unusual.. and awfully weird offer. Luckily, they came to you both about it for advice and for curiosity. "Why do people have sex?"

Honestly, it was like you were ready for this question but you were unprepared. You knew how high school could be very.. Ratchet. Especially with all the drama, sex, hormones... You were sure things were worse for their generation. But you thoroughly explain and answer with all you can to your child's questions, trying not to cringe halfway.

Your husband was NOT prepared at all. He wasn't ready. He wasn't even really expecting this conversation until LATER. man, he thinks. 'Their generation would really bring us all down.' He stays and tries to answer though.. It's mainly just you talking and you seem completely fine and cool with it which he doesn't understand at all.

After an argument:

Usually, a child sulks and becomes completely depressed when their parents fight but oh no, not your child. Your child absolutely loves to step in between you and Hajime's arguments. Your child was basically the anchor, almost. Keeping you two steady.

Hajime would realize his mistakes and so would you. So you both make up to each other and show each other your love, hugging each other and never letting go, falling asleep in each other's arms once you do.

Who gets Dementia?

You, you do.

It's a sad thing, really. Old age was really hitting you both, you especially. It saddened you both but you both knew it would be okay all as long he was next to you and you were next to him.

It would hurt Hajime whenever you would forget his name and slowly how he looks like. But he never gave up, nor did he ever pressure you into trying to figure out who he was. That's also how you knew that man was someone you loved. Every time you would remember though, everything suddenly became waterworks. You would cry about being young again and experiencing so many things with each other without a problem in the world.

Last moments?

"Hajime?" You murmur, reaching out for his wrinkled hand. He turns to look at you, eyes glossy and sullen looking because of his droopy skin. He rubs his thumb across your hand, kissing your knuckles. "You're beautiful."

You smile warmly, closing your eyes just as you tell him so, "take me to the moon."

Fun Fact:

As young adults, Hajime was suffering without you in California. He immediately made sure you never left his sight when he went back to Japan.

At the ages of 6, Hajime had nursed your scraped knee. When he gave you a Disney Princess band-aid, you kissed his cheek politely and he happily accepted it.

[sweetfushi]

fluff, some angst | satoru gojo x reader.

vampire!satoru whose ears perk at the sound of the large doors of his castle creaking open. he hasn’t had visitors in years - centuries. who has now breached his sanctuary, is the question he asks you. you, who stand in the middle of his entrance hall with an anxious yet gullibly curious expression on your face.

vampire!satoru whose brow furrows at the sight of such a meek mortal staring him in the face. you ask him to feed you the knowledge he holds of countless decades that have passed, whether it be about medicine, society, or pure legend. satoru quirks his brow at this; your tone sounds as if you are demanding this of him, not asking.

vampire!satoru who appears in front of you in an instant, wrapped in a dark cloak that reaches his shoes. his hands remain behind his back, under his cloak, as he circles you and questions why he should do such a thing. “i know who you are, what you are. what is the purpose of your immortality if not to share your experiences?” you tell him.

vampire!satoru who, rather reluctantly, allows you to scour his endless libraries. he’s slightly bothered that he now must provide food for someone, as he himself does not eat. though he himself does not cook, his servants do. no, he doesn’t refer to them as servants. his companions.

vampire!satoru who, hears you knock on the door of his study only to enter without being permitted to. you take the chair diagonal to him and place the thick book you’ve been reading on your lap, before hurriedly turning to a specific page. you ask him about the book and listen intently to his comprehensive responses.

vampire!satoru who, at some point, finds himself looking forward to you interrupting him in his study, even when he's sleeping at his desk or reading his favourite book. he becomes hungry for your curiosity and indulgence in information only he can provide you.

vampire!satoru who falls so deeply in love with you that he makes you his wife but spares you the curse of immortality by not turning you into a vampire. though he wishes to keep you by his side forever, he cannot bare to have you fall into the darkness that is vampirism.

vampire!satoru who kisses you so deeply, a hand always steadying you against his larger frame as he feels you shiver when his fangs graze your soft lips. you can barely keep up with his desire and the way his fingers press so firmly into you, as if he's terrified of losing you (because he is, he just doesn't want you to know that and worry yourself).

vampire!satoru who assigns you a personal companion who tends to your every need - food, drink, comfort, guidance around the castle that you have still yet to memorise the rooms of. despite this companion, you still seek satoru's presence the most, even for the smallest of things.

vampire!satoru who doesn't know how he would have happily continued living in solitude if you hadn't stormed into his castle and demanded that he indulged you. satoru would change a lot of his past choices, but in every life would he admit you into his castle and allow you to replace it as his sanctuary.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[elzdaizy]

Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)

Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.

Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.

A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.

It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.

To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.

You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.

Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.

You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.

Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.

Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.

He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.

You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.

You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.

It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.

What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.

You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.

Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.

The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.

Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.

You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.

You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.

“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.

You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.

You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.

You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.

You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.

You read the texts carefully one at a time.

From Harry:

6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx

6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx

6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.

7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.

8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.

You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.

You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.

You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.

After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.

Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.

You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.

You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”

He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.

You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.

“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.

You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.

He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.

It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.

You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.

“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.

You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.

It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.

Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.

You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.

“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.

Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.

“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.

“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Six (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. 

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list). 

Author’s note: Hope you like this one. Weirdly it's one of my fave chapters. (I love Frankie, you'll see.) Slightly shorter chapter this time. The angst continues (I’m so sorry... but also I'm really I'm not sorry at all, yk? :P)!  As always, I would be super, super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way, and I'm so touched that anyone would even consider reading this far along in the story! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.7k for this part. 

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Santiago watches you go. Feels the violence of you being snatched from his side like a wound. 

He feels lost for a moment. Paralysed as he watches you retreating, barging by Frankie and Will and Benny in the doorway; most of the boys - barring Tom- having mobilised downstairs. They are soldiers, after all, and so they can sense a conflict. They look like it too. They look primed: to assess, attack, defend. Defend you. Always was that way. That’s all Santiago ever wanted too. 

“Hey. Hey, hey. Come on. What is all this?”. Frankie attempts to soothe as you hasten your approach across the sand, towards the refuge of that doorway. As though Santiago is an earthquake and you must take shelter from him there. “Come on,” he calls out to the two of you, indiscriminately. And then, to Santiago only. “For fuck’s sake, man. You care about each other.”

Santiago can’t move. He desperately wants his feet to move after you but he can’t seem to get them to cooperate. Can’t seem to get any sound of protest to birth from his throat. Can’t seem to bring himself to stop you from walking away. Just like last time. Maybe he thinks he knows what’s better for you, and so he dare not try. 

Instead, he watches as Frankie futilely tries to smooth things -to slow you down - but on your approach he must see little chance of reconciliation in the folds and caving of your face, for he lets you barge right by him. You slip clean by Will on the porch too, and just past Will’s broad shoulders, Santiago can see his brother spinning on his heel. Launching himself to follow you back upstairs. To offer you the comfort you deserve after the wounds you didn’t. The wounds he has created by telling you the one thing he’d always feared himself. 

That there was no hope for the two of you. 

God. He had simply tried to love you, but how could he reach out to you softly when his hands are so lethal? How could he hold you, when all he ever did was hurt? 

He huffs a sharp breath out of his nose, cursing at himself under his breath. His heart is hammering in his chest. There is a ringing in his ears. Guilt. Fear. Adrenaline. Anger. Guilt most of all. Santiago watches dissociatively as Frankie beelines across the sands for him, not to comfort, he thinks, but to blame. It’s all he deserves, isn’t it? Maybe, but he feels exposed out here, alone on the sand, so he too mobilises towards the house. His head down and his pace purposeful, face locked in a grimace, as though perhaps he too could somehow slip by unnoticed, despite its guarded perimeter. Even though the whole squad is primed for damage control. Even though he’s flagged as the danger. The wrecking ball, the shell, the strike, threatening to bring this house to its knees. 

He’s done worse. 

He had wanted better for you.

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit, man,” he spits to Frankie - without looking at his buddy as he rounds on him, attempting to get in his way and slow him down. Santiago doesn’t like to feel caged in. To feel small. Vulnerable. He rasps the palm of his hand down over his mouth and chin. “Fuck.” 

Santiago reaches the porch, still ignoring Frankie, and moves to pass Will too. But, his old captain is having none of that. He pushes Santiago back firmly - heel of hand to shoulder. “Why don’t you leave it?” he warns, the words frothing between his teeth. Santiago still does not look up, his face a snarl, trying once more to shoulder barge and bypass his way into the house. “No, no way.” Will stands taller, knocking him back, practically looming over Santiago now. 

Santiago looks at him this time, in accusation. He squares off to him, tension writhing along his jaw, Will bearing down on him with all the weight of his bulk and presence and his track record. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Frankie placates from behind him, and Santiago feels the man’s hands settle on his tense, packed shoulders. He quickly shrugs them off. “Let’s take a walk. Let’s take a walk.”

“You fucking kidding me?” Santiago bites, his breath raging through his nose. 

“Take a fucking walk, Garcia.” Will orders coolly. The shorter man’s jaw writhes, tension rippling through his body, but he doesn’t plan on going toe to toe with Captain Miller. He knows that wouldn’t end well. 

Frankie tries again, planting his hands once more on Santiago’s shoulders and twisting him away from the porch. Santiago still hasn’t looked at the man. He can only feel him there. This quiet, calming presence, reflecting the grotesqueness of own anger back at him. Forcing him to face himself in the mirror. “Let’s take a walk. Come on, hermano. Take a walk.” 

Santiago rips his gaze and head away from Will and with an unbecoming grunt begins pacing it down the long strip of beach, adrenalin still piping into his veins. His body shaking, tremoring, and fists clenched by his sides. “Can you believe her? I’m just so… fucking-” He growls. 

And still, Frankie is behind him, in his PJs and sliders and just shoving him forward, palms planted on his shoulder blades. “Walk, man. Just fucking walk. Don’t talk. Move your legs.” Santiago tries it one more time, tries to twist around but Frankie just shoves him onward again, keeping pace behind him. He sticks with him, despite the huffed breaths and snipes and everything else. He walks him like a fucking dog until the adrenalin has burnt off. Until Santiago feels only jitters through his weak legs. Until he feels a pit open up inside and swallow him. Until he can carry himself no further away from you. Until he realises that no matter how far he walks he cannot run from himself. 

“You cooled off now, huh?” Frankie manages to soothe, even with the bitter lime-wedge bite in his tone. “Okay. Okay.” 

Santiago crashes. 

“Fuck, Frankie.”It is as though he turns to sand, knees buckling and dropping to a crouch, burying his face into his gently tremoring hands. “Shit.” He scoops up a handful of sand, tossing a tiny grit storm into the air. “Fuuuuucckk.” He crests, and he sags back on to his ass with a sorry thud into the sand, his legs spread and knees drawn up. He rests his elbows on top of them, his head sagging down in between his legs and his fingers lacing behind his neck. He looks like he’s protecting himself from debris. From the aftermath.  

To his side, Santiago hears Frankie sigh deeply, and he plonks himself on the floor beside his buddy. Santiago squirms performatively to dismiss the circles Frankie’s broad hand smooth into his shoulder, but he is eminently glad when his friend doesn’t quit. He needs this. Someone who won’t give up on him. 

Frankie’s robust voice is a comfort too, yet he can still hear some judgement in it. Knows it is coming. Still, generously, Frankie allows Santiago a moment. A breathing cycle before he must face another onslaught. “Hey. Hey, come on.” He pats his back more firmly, and Santiago just sits, tears piping freely down his cheeks. 

There is a groan around a bitten lip, and Santiago finally looks. Finally looks to see Frankie softly shake his head from side to side. Something is coming. Santiago can guess what. It’s somehow always his fault, isn’t it, and so he should expect the onslaught? Frankie’s voice is deceptively soft, but he always strikes in stealth. That’s where he does his best work. He applies another couple of slow, forceful pats to Santiago’s back, before scrunching his hand into his t-shirt and jostling him, perhaps as though he could shake some sense into him once and for all. “I don’t get it, man,” Frankie intones. “Isn’t she everything you ever wanted?”

Santiago closes his eyes, the final smattering of tears beading in his long lashes. “I don’t know why I can’t…” His shoulders tug up as he sucks in a steadying breath and promptly releases it again, digging his closed fists into the sand before him. “I don’t. I just…” His eyebrows leap up in distress as he wrestles with the complexity. “I want to. I want to, but she’s better off without me. She doesn’t deserve all of my bullshit.”

“I don’t think she’s once tolerated any bullshit, hermano, least of all yours.” 

Santiago sees what his buddy is trying to do, but Santiago shakes his head forlornly from side to side. “I wouldn’t be good for her. Wouldn’t be good enough…” 

Frankie clicks his tongue. “She wants you. Don’t patronise her by thinking you know better.” 

“No. It’s too late. I fucked it. I… Shit.”

Frankie’s voice drops an octave. “I’ve been patient. But I’m tiring of your fucking excuses, man.” He does; he sounds tired. Everyone, always so tired of him. “Look ahead with me for a minute, alright?” Frankie gestures with a sweep of his arm through the air, as though Santiago could fix on a vision of the future before him. Instead, all he sees is a black, rolling sea, fringed with frayed white lace. A round disk of mellow light shining down through the night. “What do you see in your life? Christ - what’s your endgame? Getting shot in some fucking ditch?” Frankie swats Santiago’s arm with the back of his hand when he receives no reply, the man instead looking wistfully out over the water, his eyes as soft as the moon. “I asked you a question. So answer me. What’s your endgame? If you can’t even say it aloud, I can’t fucking help you.” 

“Her,” Santiago breathes, without looking away from the water. “Her. You know it is.” He scratches nervously over the stubble on his cheek. “I’m so in love, man. So gone for her I can’t fucking think straight.” 

“Right,” Frankie nods firmly, looking at Santiago unblinkingly from beneath his lashes. “So what the fuck are you going to do about it?” 

“I can’t just leave everything, Cat. Walk away and-” 

“-Can’t you?” Frankie smacks the back of his hand definitively against his own open palm. “I did. Tom. Will. She did.” 

Santiago actually scoffs then, as if something is funny. “Yeah. Yeah, Cat,” he concedes, pushing himself up from his hunched position in the sand, voice oddly taut. “You did.” Frankie stands with him, his chin raising as he defends from whatever low blow Santiago has brewing, a healthy dose of cynicism dripping from him already. “You did, and fucking look at you. You’re all a goddamn mess. A hot steaming pile of shit.” His eyes tighten with resolve, a solemnity shrouding his sharp features. “I can’t do that to her.” 

“Fuck you, man,” Frankie revs. “I’m good. I have a little girl on the way.” 

“Oh, please. Give me a break.” Santiago slices his hand through the air. “Tom’s eyes are fucking hollow. Selling fucking condos?” Frankie’s eyes flash with a rage and a sadness that seem to cancel each other out at first, and so he can all but listen as his buddy winds up his tirade. “Will - fucking Captain Miller - this burly bastard walking on eggshells because he’s afraid of flipping that switch and blacking out again. He choked a man out, no flag on his shoulder. Lost the love of his life. I thought those two were it, man. You’re scraping by on lines and don’t think we haven’t noticed.” Frankie’s head ducks down then, and he lets out an undone noise, something between a protest and a whimper. “Fuck, even Benny. The fucker gets beat to shit for fun. Do we sound fucking healthy to you, Cat? Is that how good it is getting out?” 

Frankie’s breaths are turbulent now. Santiago can see the familiar look of restraint on the man. Nostrils flaring, brow drawing down. The dark, formidable edge behind Frankie’s quiet exterior barely kept in check. He meets his gaze and he almost looks battle-drunk. On the offensive and ready to do whatever it takes to get off the backfoot. But, he reins it in. Swallows it down. Until all he delivers is a march forward, pacing Santiago backward, his finger jabbed into his chest and his words snarling directly against his cheek. “Fuck you, pendejo. You think you’re any better than us?” 

Santiago lets him have it. He’s not sure he has any fight left anyway. Isn’t sure he’d mind anymore if he got punched down into the dirt. 

“No. No, I don’t. That’s exactly my point.” Frankie searches his face, the knife in his keen eyes blunting to a wet sheen as Santiago lays it out in a small, fractured voice. “If you can’t do it, how in the hell can I make a go of it? I’m not the best of you. I’m so fucked up. I’ve got all this… fucking baggage. My mom. The nightmares. Lorea. The blood on my hands. I can’t be ‘it’ for her. I can’t. Because she deserves better. Deserves the fucking world, man.” 

Frankie clamps his hands down on Santiago’s shoulders, drawing back to look him squarely in the eyes. “Guess what? You’ll be fucked up in or out, trust me. But you may as well be fucked up with fewer bullets grazing your vitals daily, no?” 

Santiago shakes his head as if getting “out” is simply impossible. “I’m doing something, man,” he mutters, as if he can’t muster the strength to believe his own line anymore. As if all his old mantras are dead. Washed away in the sand. “I’m trying to do something down there.” 

“This mother’s homeland bullshit again?” Frankie really does sound eminently tired. Trust Santiago to hit on an argument within an argument, right? He can always twist just about everything. “Wake up call, Pope. You can’t fix it. You don’t even care if you fix it. You just want to keep fucking running.” 

Santiago tears away from Frankie’s grip, pacing in a small circle. “Fuck you.”

Frankie raises his palms in the air. As if he really is about to give up. What does he do if every one of his best friends gives up on him, Santiago thinks? “Fine. Whatever. That’s your shit, not mine. But look at it this way. You tell me you can’t walk away from that life. Look me in the eye and tell me this. You okay walking away from her?”

“She walked away,” Santiago spits, even though he scarce believes it any longer. Yes, you might have walked away. But he was the one who ran. “She was the one who-”

“-I don’t care!” Frankie yells, quickly losing patience, waving his palms of surrender around.  “I’m tired of this. Shit - I do not care about these little technicalities. Yeah. Okay. She left, right? She moved on, Santiago. Moved along the road. Life is moving on. Don’t blame her because you’re standing still, cabrón.”

Santi shifts his weight from foot to foot, swipes his palm back and forth over his mouth. “Fuck you, man, standing still my ass.” 

“Oh, what?” Frankie retaliates. “You can come at me but I can’t come at you?” Santiago’s expression is stark, all straight lines and angles and shadowed planes. “You stayed and for what? To spite her? To prove yourself right? Jesus, Pope. Lorea has you chasing your tail. You’re going round in circles. You fuck your problems away but you wake up and, hey, guess what? They’re still there. Still a big steaming stack of turds in the corner.” Santiago curses under his breath, spitting insults and deflections, but Frankie is undeterred. “And the worst thing is, you could fucking have it! You could have everything you want! What the rest of us wouldn’t give for that, pendejo.” 

“Right, yeah. Thanks for that assessment. I’m just a fucking chump, is that it?” 

“Hey, look. It’s you. I’m just saying what I see.” Frankie’s mouth curls into a tentative smile, yet the blow dealt by Santiago’s stony expression manages to dull it. 

“Asshole.” 

“Whatever. I’m done helping. You don’t want her? Fine. You don’t have to change a thing. Can drive her away all on your own, I’m sure.” 

A hard swallow bobs down Santiago’s corded neck, and he chews on some words before offering them up. “And if I do? Want her?” 

“If you do? Then, Christ. Stop moaning about it like a little bitch and do something about it.” Santiago’s face sours all over again, and Frankie holds his hands up once more in surrender. “I’ve tried the softly, softly approach, man. We’ve all got our own shit going on. It’s past time for a fucking intervention with you.” Santiago writhes his jaw, but there is no further protest from him. Eventually, he concedes with the barest of nods. Frankie braces his arm on his shoulder, his expression growing wistful. “I just want to see you happy, man. I gotta know that some of us can still be happy. Of all of us? She fucking deserves it. And, look. You deserve it too, alright?”

Tears ball in Santiago’s eyes. It’s been a long time since he felt like he deserved to be happy. A very long time. He concedes, with the barest of nods. “It’s… I’m….” He chucks out a breath, frustrated at his lack of ability to get his words out, his mouth and brows pinching together.  

“What? Spit it out.” Frankie gives his shoulder an encouraging jostle. 

Santiago looks him in the eyes, about to level with him. Perhaps upon seeing the vulnerability there, the pilot’s eyes soften. “I’m fucking… scared, man.” 

Frankie’s eyes tighten with a wistful mirth, and his hand slips up to curl around the back of Santiago’s neck in a brotherly embrace, emotion flooding the cracks in his grit-flecked voice, making it warm and robust. “Santiago. Idiota. The way she looks at you, man? You don’t have a damn thing to be scared about.”

Tears glisten in Santiago’s eyes once more, and Frankie draws him into a tight, enclosing hug. Santiago lets himself collapse into it, wrapping his arms around Frankie’s broad, slender torso. After a few moments, and an extra squeeze for good measure, Frankie draws back, still cupping the nape of his buddy’s neck. 

“Cool down and come back to the house okay?” Frankie encourages, eyes needling Santiago for an answer until he nods. “Look. You okay?” He nods again, more adamantly this time as Frankie soothes him, dipping his chin down and raising his brows to hammer home the seriousness of his inquiry. “Yeah? Not gonna do anything stupid? Santiago?” 

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll be okay.” 

Frankie drops his arms, evidently feeling somewhat reassured. Yet, with Santiago, the fact that he promises not to do anything stupid bears repeating. “What are you gonna do?” 

“I’ll take a walk,” Santiago nods, his face drawn down into stern lines. “I’ll come back to the house.” He regards his friend, his eyes still painted with concern. 

Santiago frowns. Scratches the back of his neck. “Listen. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Frankie grins, an element of deflection in it. “I’ll be okay.” He bumps Santiago in the shoulder with his fist. “Fuck you though.” 

“Yeah. Sounds about right. Listen, we gotta talk soon, huh?” 

The smile drops from Frankie’s face as he contemplates being the one placed under scrutiny. “Yep.” 

Santiago shuffles from foot to foot. “Will you…”

“Yeah,” Frankie reassures. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”  

“Love you, man,” Santiago calls, as Frankie turns on his heel. 

He calls back over his shoulder, walking a few backward paces. He comes to a halt a few metres from his friend. “Yeah, I know. Love you too.” 

“And… I’m sorry.” He had no right to drag Frankie’s shit into this. 

“Yeah. I know that too,” Frankie revs. “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be if you ever say shit like that to me again. I’m too old for this bullshit, man.” Still, Frankie shrugs, indicating no hard feelings. “Anything else you want to say for yourself?” He juts his chin up. Watches Santiago struggle with the words, but allows him the time to pattern them out.  

“She said she wants to fucking marry me. Can you believe that? But… I’m not that guy, Cat. I’m not the picket fence guy. I…” A frown layers over his already stern face, and he gazes intently at a spot in the sand, mid-way between them. “I don’t want to be the guy who… ruins her life.” 

Frankie inhales deeply, letting the whole gust of breath go in one, puffing it out through his pouted mouth. He looks far too tired for this. “Fuck, I don’t know man. You’ve got so many hang-ups I could use you as a coat rack. But that doesn’t mean you’re not loved. And that’s enough, no? Picket fence doesn’t suit you? I don’t fucking know.” Frankie shrugs, palms tipped up towards the sky. “Shit. Have whatever kinda perimeter you want. Just -for Christ’s sake - make sure you put her on the right side of it. Don’t keep shutting her out.” 

“That’s some deep shit, Cat.” 

“Not just a pretty face, cariño.” 

Santi grins. 

“Now, are you done? I gotta fucking sleep.” 

Santiago nods, and watches as Frankie begins to turn away again. But, there must be something in Santiago’s face which causes him to think better of it. Instead, he surges towards the man, cupping the back of his head in his hand and planting a kiss to the middle of his forehead. The frown lingering there disappears. “I love you, asshole.” 

There are several things which bear repeating when it comes to Santiago.

“I know.” Santi stares intently at his feet. 

And, finally satisfied, apparently, Frankie seems willing to leave his buddy to it - granting him a moment to contemplate things alone. To contemplate you. To contemplate his words of advice. 

Santiago feels grateful for Frankie. Even feels bolstered for a moment, until he realises that what he’d assured him might not be true. That even a love that feels too abundant to bear? That it is not always enough. After all, you’d told him as much, hadn’t you? 

His love wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. 

Frankie walks away. 

Santiago will have to decide if he’s going to do the same. 

Or maybe he’ll run. 

After all. Isn’t that all he’s good for?

[stayevildarling]

could you do a hurt-comfort fic w either:

lou x tammy x reader

orrrrr

wilhemina x regina mills x reader pleaseee

Wilhemina Venable x Regina Mills x Reader- Burying our memories (AU)

A/N: I think this is absolutely not what you expected with this request dear anon. However the first thing I thought of was an AU with dark Mina x the evil Queen so I hope nevertheless you enjoy this <3 For anyone who has watched ouat please ignore how I altered the curse and changed the story

tw: dark mina, evil queen, cursing, degrading, blood, pain, angst, hurt

word count: 7k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

The dense greenery of the enchanted forest sways gentle in the cool breeze, casting shifting patterns of shadow and light upon the forest floor. With swift motions, you run through the tangled undergrowths, your breathing coming in ragged gasps as you glance over your shoulders, trying to see if they had gone, if you were safe.

Moments before, your day looked like it usually did, as you found yourself in the heart of the village, your heart heavy with the weight of injustice. The villagers lacking the most basic things including food, water and supplies to survive, due to the Queen's oppressive rules. And somehow over the years, after slowly losing your family and purpose altogether, you turned out to be an aid for the poor lost souls in the forest and village, their silent pleas echoing in the depths of your soul.

Somehow you had turned into your own version of a Robin Hood, wanting to help out, regularly crossing boundaries and stealing from the Queen's garden and palace grounds in order to provide for them, rid them of the poverty and pain they had endured for years now. And somehow, today you had been careless, not caring about the sound of alarms piercing through the stillness of the night. The queen's guards descended upon the village with ruthless efficiency, riding their horses, their gleaming armour announcing their presences further.

And now as you attempt fleeing through the labyrinth of the forest, trying to reach your sanctuary hidden deeply inside the forest, the branches tear at your clothes, the thorns pricking your skin and causing for blood to run down your arms and legs, leaving a crimson reminder of your foolishness before. Fear and desperation mingles in your veins as you push and push forward, occasionally glancing behind your shoulder to reassure that you would manage to lose them again, just like you had done many times. And if you were in a clear state of mind, you would have noticed that you took a wrong turn, ignoring the wanted poster with both your face on it, among other faces, like Snow White, all enemies to the queen who had been on her wanted list for quite some time now.

With a loud thud, you feel yourself losing your balance as you must have bumped into something, feeling a warm sensation before hitting your head on a nearby branch. It takes a little while for your vision to clear, before you find yourself face-to-face with a woman cloaked in darkness, her sharp features illuminated by a flickering lantern. Through a teary vision, due to the pain piercing through your body, you notice dark red hair styled in a sharp quiff, a shade of very dark purple, almost black coating her body. There's a calculating gleam in her eyes, as she finds you pathetically whimpering on the floor, her lips curled into a smirk.

,,Well well'' she remarks, her voice hushed ,,You seem to have gotten yourself into quite a predicament, running from the queens guards I presume?'' she questions and if it wasn't for the pain, you would have noticed the odd sense of familiarity you seem to feel and how you almost would have recognised her. Your heart pounds in your chest, torn between fleeing, the sound of shouting guards and horses still lingering in the air. But there was something about the woman's demeanour that stops you, a sense of intrigue mixed with caution.

Before you can respond, the older woman bends a little to place the lantern on the floor, the bright sensation causing you to close your eyes only momentarily. As you open them again, you watch as she balances on a cane before extending a gloved hand, offering assistance. ,,Come with me'' she offers, her tone surprisingly gentle. ,,I can offer you refuge, but you must trust me''.

Despite the feeling of doom and danger, you see a glimmer of hope in her offer, and so with a silent nod, you accept her outstretched hand, allowing her to lead you deeper into the shadowy depths of the enchanted forest. And it takes several minutes, for the pain to stop throbbing, the blood from your earlier wounds to stop pouring, until you can collect your thoughts. And as you walk behind her, following the sound of her cane and the light source provided by the small lantern she carries, something about the way she walked alarms you. And then it finally dawns on you, finding the familiar trees with carvings on them, where she was leading you, your secret path to the palace that you would often use in order to sneak to the grounds to steal in order to provide for the poor souls of the village.

And then at last it dawns on you who was walking in front of you, who's assistance you agreed upon. You didn't know her name, you had heard it plenty of times but you couldn't recall it, only remembering how she was the assistant to the wicked queen, the people in the village often mentioning her, how she never spoke much but was always by her side. As the forest echos with whispers of secrets, yet to be revealed, panic shoots through your veins, glancing around you to think of a quick escape and as you stop walking, you are quick to turn around, trying pathetically to begin running, however your legs give in as you feel a sharp pain, before everything goes black, having calculated your steps wrong, having put your trust in the wrong hands as the woman never had the intention of helping you, knowing you had been searched and chased for the longest time.

While you battle through unconsciousness, the woman had already alerted the same guards that had chased you before, who carried you inside the palace, the place that you had feared for years. And as the woman returns to the queens chambers in the middle of the night, not disturbing much sleep as her majesty had been awake, pacing back and forth contemplating her next steps and the secret curse she had been planning on casting for years, almost on the verge of completing it, finally having all the necessary ingredients, her peace is interrupted. ,,Busy'' she snarls as she is lost in her pacing, unaware who is standing in front of her.

,,Something demands your attention in the dungeons, your majesty'' the redhead woman announces, causing for the brunette to turn around, as her eyes sparkle with curiosity. And as her curiosity gets ahold of her, she brushes past her most loyal assistant yet, the sound of the queens heels and the other woman's cane echoing through the castle as they pass countless guards. And at last they make it to the dungeons, watching your almost lifeless frame on the floor, in restraints. ,,Well well'' the queen chuckles lowly, glancing at the other woman with a hint of excitement in her brown eyes. ,,Was she caught stealing my apples again?'' she chuckles as she approaches you a little closer.

,,No your majesty, I found her in the woods'' the other woman announces, causing for the queens head to snap in her direction, as she bites her lip in anticipation, almost a hint of lust in her eyes. As you slowly wake up, despite your body screaming in pain, you open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the woman who you had feared for the longest time, accompanied by the woman you had wrongly put your trust into hours before. ,,You lied to me'' you scream, struggling through the restrains as anger flashes in your eyes. The Queen simply chuckles lowly, seeing your pathetic attempts to regain your freedom. ,,My dear, you have no idea who this is do you?'' the queen remarks, causing you to avert your gaze in frustration. ,,This my dear is Wilhemina Venable, my most loyal companion'' she begins, her hand wandering to the redheads cheek, squeezing it a little, her eyes sparkling with pride for how she had managed to capture you after her countless failed attempts in the past.

And despite the circumstances, your eyes betray you as you watch the scene unfold before you, for the first time really getting a glimpse of both women. And you couldn't deny how utterly beautiful they were, at least from the outside, both their hair styled sharply, exposing their faces plastered in dark makeup, the same brown eyes despite the different shades. The queen was wearing one of her usual dresses, black this time, plastered in diamonds and jewels, Wilhemina dressed entirely in a dark shade of purple. While the queen is busy with admiring the other woman, feeling drawn to her for capturing you, you watch as the redheads brown eyes travel towards you, almost a sign of pity in them before she speaks again.

,,What are you planning on doing with her your majesty?'' causing for the queen to chuckle, and you knew what this meant as you had always been running from death, knowing you had deserved it for stealing and running from her for years. Closing your eyes, you wait for what awaits, waiting for her to open the bars, approach and rip out your heart, as you had watched her do it to innocent people many times. However to your surprise she begins pacing a little, thinking about what to do with you. ,,I think we'll keep her'' she announces with a chuckle, and as you open your eyes you notice the confusion in the redheads features.

,,Where she comes from my dear, people bathe in the river and use pinecones for money'' she exclaims, her eyes piercing right through you. ,,I think she can be of great assistance, considering she knows the village and forest so well'' she carries on, Wilhemina simply nodding, trying to avert your eyes. ,,She would make an excellent pet'' is the last thing her majesty says before leaving, leaving behind a very puzzled and confused Wilhemina. She looks at you one more time before following, leaving behind an ever confused you. ,,Pet?'' you think to yourself, trying to pinch yourself to see if this was all just a dream or if maybe you had already died a while ago.

The remainder of the night is spent in the eery dungeons, the restraints keeping you from moving all that much and so the only thing you can do is try and relax as much as the situation allows you, leaning your head against the cold and damp wall behind you, trying to calm the raging storm of thoughts. Eventually sleep finds you, despite it being broken as the castle was considerably loud, even in the night and sometimes you thought you heard screams from the lost souls that had found their ending in the same dungeons you are sitting in. The next morning, you are awoken by one of the guards, as he undoes your restraints, pulling you up by your arms and forcing your shaky legs to follow him as he takes you towards her majesty.

With heavy eyes from the remaining pain lingering on your body and lack of comfortable sleep, you blink a few times as he lets go of you, dropping to your knees in the process. And as you glance around, you notice an unfamiliar room, filled with fancy mirrors, a balcony overlooking the palace grounds, a large dining table and fireplace to the side. And you also notice the same two familiar faces that you had last seen last night, Wilhemina sitting in one of the armchairs by the lit fireplace, her cane resting beside her, the same shade of dark purple but a different outfit. And in front of you, you find her majesty, wearing a red dress, her hair down and despite it all looking beautiful, yet intimidating.

For some reason, you feel the urge to stand up and so with all the strength left you balance and face her as she takes slow and calculated steps around you, walking in a little circle, occasionally glancing at the other woman in the room before speaking. ,,Now now, what are we going to do with you, pet?'' she questions with a little chuckle and it causes you to gulp, wondering just why she hadn't killed you yet, considering all the wanted posters and the hatred you knew she felt towards you for your actions.

The room fills with silence before a low chuckle ripples through it, this time not from the queen but her loyal companion. ,,We can have her for supper can't we dear?''. And again they have you gulping and you could easily try to make an escape, the guards having disappeared now, despite expecting them outside this room. But your curiosity keeps you on your shaky legs, glancing at the older woman who continues circling you like prey. ,,No, no'' she tuts, shaking her head a little ,,We can't waste such a beautiful little thing, now can we?'' her voice sounds almost mocking and you have no idea whether she was being genuine or not.

Silence stretches on, before an idea pops into your mind, knowing what her majesty desired and considering she hadn't killed you yet, maybe you could truly be of assistance to her and her companion, maybe just maybe you could even continue to do what you had been doing, helping out the villagers if you played your cards right. ,,Your majesty?'' you try and her head snaps towards you, eyebrows raised as she never expected one of her prisoners to speak to her like this, adress her in the correct way, other than if she was about to take their life. ,,Yes?'' she questions curiously, her eyebrow remaining raised. You clear your throat before speaking again ,,You are trying to look for Snow White correct?'' you speak carefully, knowing this subject was more than a little touchy to her.

,,Yes, do continue'' she ushers, as her eyes lock with yours. ,,I am not the biggest fan of her either your majesty, perhaps I could be of assistance to help you find her?'' While Wilhemina chuckles, the brunette walks away sighing before she turns to you again, her eyes overtaken by anger. ,,Did she also get the one you loved most in this world killed?'' her voice is filled with venom, though her eyes filled with pain. Wilhemina averts her gaze, knowing Regina for a very long time now and knowing how much that had changed her. ,,No, of course not, I'm sorry your majesty'' you begin speaking again before adding ,,But we have met briefly and I can help you find her'' you try again.

This time the redhead woman stands up, her cane echoing through the room before she halts right in front of you, her dark brown eyes piercing through you. ,,We have our own spies in the village, what makes you think you can find her?'' she spits, almost feeling pitty at your pathetic attempt. ,,Well Ms Venable, you also have tried to find me for years and I know what it's like... to run, you know?''. Her eyebrows raise in the same way the queens had moments before, admiring how polite you are, admiring your manners despite it all and being able to tell that you didn't do any of this to be spared as she is utterly aware you could have tried to make an escape by now or even simply accept your fate.

,,If you don't like that, perhaps I could be of assistance with your gardens your majesty'' you try next, trying to think of anything to make yourself useful to them, while still seeing some of your own gain and advantage. The queen smiles then before turning serious ,,You mean those same gardens you have stolen from many times?'' she scoffs, glancing at Wilhemina who remains in front of you, her presence intimidating. ,,It's just I couldn't help but notice how some of the fruit didn't exactly look too healthy your majesty and your stunning castle, deserves a worthy garden'' you finish your proposal, assuming that she would kill you next or send you back to the dungeons.

,,Guard'' she shouts and as he enters hastily, you close your eyes, awaiting your fate. ,,Get me the gardener now'' she shouts and as he practically runs away, Wilhemina's eyes widen as she turns her head to face the queen, surprised she would listen to you, especially the possibility of agreeing as she knows exactly what is about to happen. A little while later a middle aged man enters the room, almost tripping over his feet, clearly intimidated by the presence. ,,I hear you haven't been taking care of my gardens the way you are meant to'' she tuts, and with a swift motion, before he even gets the chance to explain himself, she has him on the floor, with a flick of her wrist his neck snapped, moments later the guards carrying his lifeless body from the floor a few steps away from you.

All you can do is freeze, feeling terrible that this was the result of your words, not thinking about the consequences your proposal held for the innocent man. And despite feeling like screaming, you stay still, not daring to look up at either of them right now, the realisation slowly sinking in that this wasn't good, that you are trapped by a deranged witch and her odd companion. ,,Fine'' she finally speaks again ,,You can look after the gardens and you may be free to go to the village whenever you please and provide me with information on Snow White'' the queen speaks, before she approaches you. As you look up, you watch as she brushes past Wilhemina before taking your cheeks into her hand and squeezing them ,,But if you think for one second you can escape and not return, you are mistaken'' she warns and as your eyes lock with hers, you can't help and fight the tears beginning to swell in them. ,,Yes your majesty'' you agree with shaky breaths, before she releases you from her tight grasp.

,,Guard'' she shouts again, the same guard entering hastily yet again. ,,Take Y/N to a room, she will be overlooking the gardens and feed us information on snow white'' she explains, before he nods ,,Yes your majesty'' he speaks before he ushers you to follow him. And you do, not once looking back, your feet still shaky from the interaction that had unfolded. The walk feels like it lasts a lifetime, until he finally leads you to a door, opening it and ushering you to go inside. It wasn't nice in the slightest, a lot of dirt, spider webs, barely even a window but there was a little table and chair, a bed even and it connected to what you assume to be a small bathroom. And despite it giving you dungeon vibes all over again, at least you wouldn't be restrained any longer, regaining a small sense of your freedom. He leaves moments later, and you can't help but collapse onto the bed, it really wasn't much of a bed, more of a mattress but nevertheless, you close your eyes as sleep finally washes over your tired body and aching bones.

The next time your eyes force open, it's a few hours later and as you glance around the small room, you find some things that had been left on the small table. As your curiosity gets ahold of you, you find a few sets of clothes, a washcloth and even some papers and pens and despite unsure who had left it there, you appreciate it. Moments later you finally rid your body from the dirt and blood that the last two days had left on you, putting on some of the clothes and leaving your room. It takes you several minutes to find a guard, asking if he could point you in the direction of the gardens and hesitantly he does, leading you to what you assume to be the old gardeners shed as you find all the necessary tools and so without thinking about it, you get to work, watering the bushes, trimming some of them to get them into perfect shape, nurturing some of the fruits and vegetables and correcting any mistakes that the previous gardener had made, for whatever reason taking this task quite seriously.

It's dark as you eventually return inside, quickly having the hang of it by now and finding your room, finding a meal on your table and despite again unsure who had left it, feeling grateful as you hadn't realised until now how much you had been starving. After finishing your meal, you change your clothes again, washing the now dirty ones from working in the gardens all day, before sitting on your bed crossed leg, trying to figure out what to do as beside the day light, you had lost all sense of time a little bit. And so the only thing you can do is reach for the pen and papers, writing down the events from the past few days, sketching a little as well as it always had been your passion, unsure why but it really being the only thing you could do and several hours later passing out on your bed as sleep washes over you.

The next day, you find yourself doing the same things, her gardens were huge and as her majesty overlooks them, finding you working as you kneel on the floor, planting some flowers, she can't help but watch carefully, something about you utterly intriguing. You lose yourself in your task, unaware of who was watching before a presence startles you, causing you to drop your tools clumsily. You watch as Ms Venable circles around you, carefully observing without speaking a single word and it for sure intimidates you, having her observing and careful eyes on you. ,,You seem good at this'' she states, noticing how all the bushes and hedges had the exact same length and a part of her confused as to how you had managed that. ,,Thank you Ms Venable'' you almost whisper, after the last encounter quite terrified of them both and she can tell. ,,Have you managed to gather any information yet?'' she questions curiously and you gulp then before looking up at her as you still kneel on the floor.

,,Not yet, I was wondering whether I may be allowed to leave this afternoon to try and I was wondering whether I would be allowed to collect some seeds?'' you ask, your voice shaky. ,,Seeds?'' she chuckles then, almost mocking your words. ,,Yes Ms to plant some more vegetables and fruit and flowers you see'' you try your best to convince her. ,,I'm sure her majesty doesn't mind, as long as you return in the evening and report back to us'' she almost scolds, her features turning more serious and stern. ,,Of course Ms Venable, thank you'' is all you reply with a small smile, unsure why you had smiled in the first place but it somehow came natural. And before you know it she leaves, her cane echoing with each step before it stops altogether as she reaches the palace again.

Several hours later, you finally make your way to the village, using your secret path through the forest, stopping briefly by your hide out and gathering some of your things, putting them all in a small bag and changing into one of your usual outfits, feeling much more comfortable that way. You opted for one of your beige ones, leather trousers, boots and a vest, a shoulder bag with your belongings. On the way to the village, you had also collected some seeds, hoping if you worked briefly and hard on the gardens, you could still provide the village with food, hoping that you could somehow stuff it in your bags so no one would notice. And as you finally make it to the village, you are met with the usual families, the children greeting you excitedly as they knew you always brought them things but today you unfortunately come empty handed. ,,We haven't seen you for a couple of days'' one of the villagers exclaims, scanning your features and noticing some cuts and bruises on your face. ,,Brief encounter with some guards'' you chuckle, not wanting to go into too much detail. ,,I don't have anything today unfortunately but I should soon'' you exclaim, however you are met with compassion and understanding.

,,Have either of you heard anything about Snow White lately?'' you ask the group of villagers, before most of them shake their head. ,,I believe she has last been seen up north, by the rivers'' one of them exclaims and you simply nod, appreciating their honesty, despite feeling terrible considering what game you are playing. Noticing the beginning dawn, the sun beginning to set, you opt to return to the palace, knowing you would never be able to make the journey up north within the next few hours. And it doesn't take long until you find yourself in front of the familiar back door, some guards already awaiting you. ,,Your majesty wants to see you'' he explains before you gulp and follow him.

He guides you back into the room you had been in before, the two of them sitting by the fireplace, before you stand awkwardly, feeling as if you are interrupting their peace. ,,Tell me, any information?'' the queen questions before she stands up and walks over to you. ,,Yes your majesty, apparently up north by the river'' you explain before she signals to the guard who remained standing there before he leaves at her instructions. ,,I would have checked the information for myself but I know I needed to return tonight'' you explain yourself and she simply furrows her eyebrows before scanning you, noticing the outfit change and the bag. ,,Well well, did our little pet make a stop somewhere?'' she asks, glancing at Wilhemina who simply watches with a chuckle. The brunette is quick to take the bag from you, her eyes glancing through the contents of it, noticing some seed pouches and chuckling as the redhead had filled her in on your earlier request. ,,What is this?'' she questions, holding up your notebook.

,,My notebook your majesty'' you exclaim, averting her gaze as your cheeks grow red a little. She skips through the pages, impressed with the several sketches, some from the villages, some from the forest and even one of her castle. She slides it back into your bag, before walking back over to her armchair, leaving you confused and stranded, unsure what to do next. ,,I feel like some tea, you dear?'' the queen announces and you aren't sure whether to leave them to it or whether they still needed you. ,,Of course'' the redhead begins, reaching for her cane but the queen stops her by waving her hand. ,,No no'' she tuts ,,We have a pet now remember dear'' she instructs and Wilhemina simply chuckles before they both look at you. You glance around the room, unsure where you are supposed to get tea from, however the redhead glances towards a backdoor behind the dining table and you nod gratefully before quickly walking through the door, finding a small tea kitchen there.

And so it doesn't take long before you enter the room again, carrying a little tray, before approaching them, with shaking hands placing it in front of them. ,,Anything else I can get you?'' you ask almost obediently and if you would have looked, you would have noticed the sparkle in Wilhemina's eyes. ,,No pet, but how about you join us considering you did so well today, I heard they have a trail on Snow White'' the queen chuckles and your eyes widen at her offer, but as Wilhemina pats the space next to her, you simply obey, quickly pouring the tea for them, before glancing at the fire, softly crackling, providing you with some warmth, as you feel a little awkward, under their careful gazes. ,,So tell me Y/N, what led you to steal from me in the first place?'' the queen begins, causing you to gulp as the last thing you expected was to find yourself having small talk over tea with them. ,,Yes Y/N'' Wilhemina mockingly carries on ,,We want to hear all about you'' she exclaims, again having you gulping and squirming in your seat.

The next few weeks, carry on the same way they had previously, most of your days are spent with taking care of the gardens, regularly going back to your village, providing them with some of the food that you had grown and nurtured, in secret of course. Your nights mostly looked the same as well, spending them in your room, doing some writing or sketching in your notebooks. However lately, they had often demanded your presence in the evening as well, as you often provided them with tea, the occasional wine, and any information you had on Snow White. And you couldn't help but notice how they seemed a little less strict, they stopped calling you pet and started with your actual name. You are sure by now they know that you have continued providing for your village and they hadn't killed you yet, not even mentioned it. And so, ever so slowly, your life at the palace felt almost normal as you had quite the freedom now, not having to let the guards know where you are going as they and her majesty knew you would always return in the evenings. And so it almost felt like home, appreciating the fact that you don't have to sleep on the wet and cold forest floor anymore but you knew there was something off, you should be terrified, trying to run from them after seeing all the horrible things they had done in the past but something about being around them so much, you started to understand more about the queens pain and the reason for her actions.

,,Where on earth is she?'' she paces around her large chambers, the anger flaring in her eyes as her magic sparks, her emotions bubbling out of the brunette.

Her loyal companion, sits by the fireplace, trying to keep her composure, before balancing on her cane, the sound echoing through the room. ,,I'm sure she just lost track of time'' the redhead tries calming her down, placing a hand on the queens shoulder but she is having none of that, quickly escaping her grasp. ,,She always returns, we were foolish to believe that she wouldn't betray us'' her raised voice rings through the air again, startling the redhead a little.

And Wilhemina wasn't sure whether the queen was actually concerned for your wellbeing, or simply considering whether to kill you, having noticed how Regina had almost gone soft since bringing you to the castle, still plotting her curse that she had worked on for a while but considerably softer with the people in the villages, especially your village. She knew all about you still providing them with food and yet Regina hadn't kill you and so Wilhemina had began wondering whether the brunette may feel the same way about you that Wilhemina had started, despite never talking about it.

The silence is interrupted when a guard enters ,,Your majesty'' he begins but she was having none of it. ,,Not now'' she shouts, waving her hand, getting ready to send him flying out the door. ,,Your majesty, we have finally found her'' he announces, the sound of more guards filling the air before her head snaps towards him. ,,Snow White?'' she questions, despite your best information and efforts lately, they still hadn't managed to capture her. ,,No your majesty'' he begins, before Wilhemina's heart stops in her chest.

They watch as another guard, drags your body inside, your face filled with blood as it pours from your mouth, your clothes stained and bruises beginning to plaster your face. Your eyes are closed as they throw you on the floor, in front of both women, smiling at themselves thinking they had captured you. ,,Are you both out of your minds?'' she shouts and the smiles quickly vanish from the guards faces. ,,Your majesty, Y/N has been searched for years'' he tries to justify his actions. ,,Didn't you two fools get the memo? she hasn't been searched for months, she belongs to this palace'' Wilhemina shouts, usually keeping her composure but unable to in this moment.

,,Pathetic idiots'' the evil queen shouts, in a swift motion making them turn into dust, wiping them from their existence quicker than either of them can take their next breath or justify their pathetic actions. Wilhemina is quick to rid you from the chains, her hand brushing past your cheek, the blood staining her leather gloves. Almost helplessly, Wilhemina turns to Regina, who simply stands frozen, before turning on her heels, abandoning you both as she leaves towards her balcony, trying hard to keep her emotions and rage at bay.

The battle of unconsciousness wins in the end, barely aware of the encounter that took place and so when you wake next, you find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings, a dark room, the only light sources some candles. As you try and force open your eyes, you notice the interior almost entirely a dark shade of lilac and your eyebrows furrow, trying to recollect the events from before. All you remember is trying to make your way back to the castle, stumbling upon some guards who clearly had no idea who you were and how they didn't listen to your pathetic attempts of explaining. How they beat you, hurt you and dragged you back to what you assume to be the castle. The last thing you see before sleep washes over your tired and beaten body is the lilac large sofa you are laying on before everything goes black and quiet.

Meanwhile Wilhemina had returned to the queens chambers, opting between getting you back to your room or a little closer to them and so she decides for one of her rooms in the end, needing the help of a guard to get you there, yet she trusted that same guard, having helped her with some of her secret missions in the past. She watched over you for a while, gently ridding you from the blood and changing your clothes for you, unsure why she was doing it but ignoring the thought for now, wanting to check on Regina. She finds the other woman still standing on her balcony, overlooking the gardens, despite the darkness of the night surrounding them. The cane echoing announces the redheads presence, as she stands beside her majesty, silence surrounding them.

,,How is she?'' the brunette asks, not averting her gaze from the dark night sky for a moment. ,,Fine'' Wilhemina mutters, still unsure how to read Regina's actions so far regarding you. And as the redhead catches a glimpse of the other woman's brown eyes, she can see something unfamiliar in them, something she couldn't read. ,,She's causing me to go soft'' she suddenly speaks, taking Wilhemina by surprise. ,,Is that such a bad thing?'' she questions in return, the queen averting her eyes again at the redheads statement. ,,Where is she?'' Regina asks after a moment of silence before Wilhemina speaks again. ,,She's safe'' and the statement causes for the queens eyebrows to furrow as her eyes draw towards the redheads again. ,,Where is she?'' she speaks again before Wilhemina swallows hard ,,In my room''.

,,Your room?'' her eyebrows raise now, surprised at the statement. ,,You are going soft too my dear'' she chuckles before giving her companion that nod, that nod that indicated she was tired and would retreat to her own chambers for the night. ,,Good night your majesty'' Wilhemina speaks before giving her the space she had silently asked for and retreating to her own room. In her room, she finds you still asleep and a wave of worry washes over her, having seen some of your wounds when changing and washing you before, concerned at the severity of them. ,,Y/N?'' she speaks almost softly, almost lovingly, so unlike the usual stern and intimidating woman. And her soft voice draws you from sleep instantly, as you open your eyes. And then it kinda dawns on you, who's room you are in and you instantly jolt, thinking you didn't belong there, unaware of who had put you there in the first place.

,,I'm so sorry Ms Venable'' you try, your voice still hoarse from sleep. ,,I don't know how I got here'' you apologise, trying to balance on your feet, however a sudden wave of pain washes over your body, causing you to tumble forward but a steady body forces you to remain still, stopping you from falling over. ,,It's okay dear'' she speaks so softly yet again and as you look up, you catch a glimpse of her brown eyes and how they sparkle, how suddenly she seems so much nicer, so much less intimidating and just a person, not the evil queens loyal companion. ,,Come on, let's sit you down'' she tries and you quickly obey, not wanting to cause any discomfort for her, unsure why she used a cane in the first place, but often sensing how uncomfortable she was whenever you caught a glimpse of her.

,,I put you here'' she confesses, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion but when the realisation sets in, your cheeks growing red a little, feeling silly for your earlier panic. ,,Is the pain quite bad?'' she asks, her features filled with concern but you quickly shake your bed. ,,No Ms Venable'' you assure, the pain much better now despite the remaining feeling of unbalance whenever standing up. The room fills with silence as you catch a glimpse of what you assume to be her chambers, the large wooden wardrobe in a corner, a large mirror, a desk with several books on them, two armchairs and a fireplace in the corner. As your eyes meet hers again you can't help but notice how she is staring at you, looking at you up and down as your eyebrows furrow in confusion, mirroring her actions to check if there was something wrong with your appearance.

,,You are quite pretty for a peasant'' she speaks quietly and now you are definitely contemplating whether you are awake, whether this was real. ,,Tha- Thank you Ms Venable'' you stumble over your words, unsure what to reply before she speaks again ,,You may call me Wilhemina'' she offers ,,But only when we are alone'' she instructs and you quickly nod your head, feeling a knot form in your stomach. The room fills with silence again, as you feel yourself relaxing in her presence a little, trying to think how you had gotten here in the first place, how being captured after all these years got you to a first name basis with her majesty's most trusted person. ,,What happened to you tonight?'' Wilhemina asks, drawing your thoughts and eyes back to her.

And then without hesitation and the usual composure you have around them, you fill her in on what had happened with the guards, and she listens intently, her jaw stiffening a couple of times when mentioning some of the more violent details. Before she can reply, the door bursts open, and your eyes widen when seeing the queen enter, in a dark nightgown, her hair down, the makeup gone and for the first time feeling like actually seeing Regina. ,,I can't sleep'' she sighs before noticing your presence and tensing her shoulders, not expecting you to still be there as it had been hours since Wilhemina mentioned having you in her room and assuming by now that you had left to your own room again.

,,And what are you still doing here?'' she questions, more to Wilhemina than yourself really. ,,We were just talking'' Wilhemina informs, her features remaining neutral. ,,I'll leave you to it your majesty'' you speak, quickly on your feet and ignoring the pain and dizziness as you brush past her and return to your own room. That night you have a hard time finding sleep, equally to the queen before, as you toss and turn at first, before eventually giving up on the idea of sleep and retreating to the comfort of your words and sketches as the pen flies over the pages of your notebook.

The next morning you return to your usually tasks, going on about your day, finding an odd sense of peace and quiet in the gardens. Unaware who was again looking over you, observing quietly from her balcony. And the next few weeks continue just like that, you going on about your usual tasks, having your evening encounters with both women who stopped tolerating your presence and started appreciating it, as you bring an odd sense of calm around them, some life into their monotone lives. And within those weeks you feel yourself increasingly drawn to both women, especially after they had taken you to your village a few days ago in the queens carriage, how you assumed Regina was going to bring her usual wrath of violence over people but instead her carriage brought food and supplies for your people and you couldn't believe your eyes, just as stunned as the poor people who feared as soon as they heard the queens guards and carriage arrive.

And you wondered whether maybe, just maybe the queen was going soft, unaware of the events that had taken turn behind closed doors, of how the queen had casted her spell and how it was slowly brewing, unaware of what it would bring, chaos, forgetting and what she had always desired most- her own version of a happy ending. And so tonight, you were unaware that the upcoming day would bring just that, unaware that tonight was your last with them. You had been confused about the queens unusual cheerful mood, how she had invited you to join them for supper, how Wilhemina could barely stand your gaze. How silently Wilhemina had pleaded for the queen to stop her curse but she couldn't stop it as it had been brewing silently for months and how nothing could stop it now, despite her beginning to silently regret it, despite her never admitting that to no one, not even herself really.

You find yourself sitting beside Wilhemina by the fireplace, how her eyes linger on the dancing flames, not having said much all night. ,,Wilhemina, is everything okay?'' you question silently and as her eyes meet yours, you see the pain, the doubts in them and so many unspoken words. However, your peace is interrupted when the queen enters, the door banging shut in the process and your heart stopping in your chest as you notice what she was carrying in her hands. Your notebook slaps against the table as she throws it on it, leaving behind a very confused and startled Wilhemina.

,,What is this?'' the redhead questions, her eyes meeting the angry queens eyes.

,,Ask her'' Regina spits, her angry eyes meeting yours. Wilhemina's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she looks at you. You can't do anything but stand, taking a step towards her majesty, knowing if she had read it, you would be beyond screwed.

,,I can explain your majesty'' you pathetically try but before you get the chance to, she takes a step closer, the echoing of her heels matching her inner turmoil as her eyes shoot daggers towards you, before you gasp as a hand extracts your heart, watching in shock as she holds it in her hands, the sound of it beating steadily filling the room.

,,Regina-'' Wilhemina shouts, quickly on her feet and her eyes travelling from you to the brunette.

,,I have had a feeling this carried your secrets'' she speaks, her eyes wandering towards your notebook. ,,And I wasn't surprised to read all your little confessions, find all your little sketches'' she speak almost mockingly, her eyes filled with both rage and pain.

,,Regina- what is it?'' Wilhemina tries again, her heart beating fast, her hands trembling with fear.

,,She loves us dear, both of us, the pages are filled with it'' she informs her companion, who simply stands there with a shocked expression as the room begins spinning a little.

,,Regina stop'' Wilhemina demands, her eyes pleading with the queen, her cane banging on the floor twice.

Regina's grip on your heart tightens, her gaze cold as she holds it in her hands, causing you to gasp for air. ,,Stop?'' she repeats, her tone dripping with disdain. ,,Why would I stop? when I have finally uncovered the truth about our little pet?''

Fear courses through your veins as you watch the scene unfold before you. Wilhemina's eyes widen in shock, her features mixed with disbelief and anguish. ,,Regina please'' she pleads again, her voice barely above a whisper ,,This isn't necessary''

,,You know that she loves us, you have known for a while now, we both have'' she pleads again as she steps forward, her voice filled with desperation.

Regina's eyes flicker with anger but Wilhemina continues, her words gaining strength. ,,Love should triumph over revenge'' she argues, her gaze never leaving Regina's.

The Queen's expression softens slightly at Wilhemina's words, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. For a moment it seems as though she might relent, before she senses that her curse almost reached you, knowing it was too late, that she couldn't fix this, before her eyes harden once more, her resolve returning.

"Love is a weakness, Wilhemina," she retorts, her voice cold and unforgiving. "It blinds us, makes us vulnerable. We cannot afford such weakness in our world."

Before Wilhemina can respond, having heard those same words fall many times from the queens lips, Regina reaches out and places your heart back in your chest. The pain is intense, causing you to drop to the floor, and as Regina leaves the room, Wilhemina rushes to your side, abandoning her cane, pulling you into her arms as she braces for whatever comes next.

As she glances towards the door where Regina stands, a thick cloud of purple and green already surrounding her, the dark curse finally having reached you, she is quick to press a tender kiss to your lips, causing your eyes to open. ,,I love you Y/N'' she murmurs against your mouth, her voice filled with emotion. ,,No matter what happens, remember that''

Then, as the room fills with smoke and darkness, Wilhemina shields you with her body, trying to protect you from the curse's effects. As the world fades around you, you cling to her, unaware of what is happening, unaware that in a matter of seconds you would forget everything, forget them, forget your life and the woman still trying desperately to hold you close, despite it being useless.

[sugarlywhispers]

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (fem) x Midoriya Izuku. 

A/N: hello there! just a few notes; dont feel afraid of the yandere tag/warning, it's not going to be that bad, i simply put it just to be safe because of the villains😉 i dont have this completely written, i'll go with the flow like i always do✌🏼, so if someone has feedback or ideas, you're more than welcome to talk to me!🤍 also, idk how long this gonna be, but it'll have several chapters. so get your snacks, and enjoy the ride~😉

WARNINGS: TRIO RELATIONSHIP, adult sexual content, angst and fluff, penetrative sex, oral sex, unprotected sex (USE GLOBOS, GUYS, preferably, pink ones lol😉), yandere themes –toxic/possessive behavior, mention of blood and violence, swearing lots of it thanks to bakugou lol

Summary: After several disasters that happened around the country, the government had no other choice but to enact a new law that would mostly shock every single person, including heroes. 

"Please, please…Order in the room! I know," he says to someone that it's asking something but it's mostly impossible to actually understand for viewers like you who are not–were not present at the conference. "But, please, believe me when I say we have exhausted every possibility there is for this. This law was our very last resource." 

By the tired tone in this man's voice and expression, you believe him. And you hate that you do, because that means you have no other choice. No one does.

Chapter One: The Law.

It doesn't matter how many times you rewind the whole conference from the start on your TV, the words are the same. The words mean the same.

"Thank you everyone for being here today," the same old man you have already watched–this was the third time–says, also greeting other people around he could recognize in the big crowd of journalists, governors, some famous people like idols, show directors, heroes, yada yada. The old man takes a deep breath, barely able to hide it in front of all the mics put there for him, "Due to recent misfortunes happening in our country, we can no longer postpone what we once thought could happen thanks to the society we live in today. The population has gone down in numbers, mortality rates spiking down lower than what we could ever hoped for. This law, that I'm about to present now to you, is the only way several professionals and analysts, in addition to Quirks used for this matter, could find to prevent the population from reaching the bottom–which can be translated as, from entirely disappearing."

No sugarcoat. That is something you do appreciate from this mess. You have always preferred the blunt, harsh reality of things than some kind words that were mostly used to not tell the truth.

"As from today onwards, a new law is going to take effect in our society, if not the entirety of the world. For now, we are the first country to approve this law, and we encourage others to. This law stipulates that one male, whether they are civilian or professional hero on duty, must marry and procreate with a female at least two new lives for the sake of humankind." The room explodes in protests, questions being yelled at the governor representative, and even talking between each other. "Please, please…Order in the room! I know," he says to someone that it's asking something but it's mostly impossible to actually understand for viewers like you who are not–were not present at the conference. "But, please, believe me when I say we have exhausted every possibility there is for this. This law was our very last resource." 

By the tired tone in this man's voice and expression, you believe him. And you hate that you do, because that means you have no other choice. No one does.

The governor starts to speak again as the room settles a bit, "Each citizen will have to get through several medical tests that will help our specially prepared team to match them to perfection for this purpose. This stance will be called The Pairing. After this is carried through, each Pairing will have from two weeks to a month to finally sign a contract that validates the union between each part and compromises them for the purpose they had been Paired for." 

There's chaos again in the room, and it doesn't settle until a woman stands from her seat and asks, "You said our population is currently going through a critical disbalance, right?" The governor nods admitting and signaling with his hand for her to proceed with her question. "Whether that means there are more females or males, how do you and your team plan to resolve the odd number that will complicate the Pairing of couples?"

Oh, good question!, you think again, enjoying way too much how she referred to that 'team' the governor kept talking about with so much sarcasm.

"The law establishes an exception to the Pairing of two. If one female is compatible with more than one male, or vice versa, there will be a more exhausting analysis to determine if she will be Paired with both of them."

"If that's the case, then how many children must they procreate?"

"The law does not change, there has to be two children for each couple."

Everything is chaos again and you sigh as you turn your TV off, same time that your phone vibrates over the little coffee table in front of your couch, where you sit with your legs pulled towards your chest. You pick it, the name Tora shining on the screen.

You don't get to properly set it over your ear that you hear her scream, "A FUCKING MARRIAGE LAW!" Her ear riping shout makes you wince, "Do you fucking know what this means, Y/N!?" Her excitement is not reciprocated.

"Goodbye my beloved freedom?" You answer groomly. 

You hear her exasperated tsk, "No, silly! This means we could get paired with actual Pro Heroes!"

Oh, yes, Tora's obsession with Pro Heroes. An explosive blond one that is mean to everyone, a green haired one that is considered the Symbol of Peace of this generation, a red head one that looks more like a villain –in your opinion– and a white and red haired one that is colder than ice. And many more. How could you forget that?

You roll your eyes. The only reason you know about those is because of her, Kira and all the stories the kids in your class like to tell you about their favorite heroes.

"I think all of this is ridiculous. They are using us, women, just to procreate."

"Men too, girl. Don't forget that without the fish, there's no egg…" Tora adds, and even though the saying does not go like that, you understand what she means, so you don't even try to correct her, you simply agree. However, the fact that in this current population are more males than females, speaks volumes about the kind of governors that ruled society.

"I know it's both, it's just…"

"You're angry, angry, I know you…" She says, and it warms your heart a bit.

Tora has been your best friend since the first day you walked through the college campus and collided with her. Yes, collided, because she was using her roller skates to get to her room through the crowded place the first time you met. She hadn’t seen you opening the door to the room, trying to avoid precisely not crashing into anyone, but failed with you. You didn’t even have time to react properly before you felt the coalition and both of you fell inside your room, the pair of boxes filled with each other's belongings that each was holding flew and scattered everything around. ‘What a manga scene’, you had thought back then, laughing alongside Tora for such a mess. You have been best friends since then.

Then, alongside came Kira. While Tora is all sunshine and rainbows and a torrent of energy, Kira is the complete opposite. She is chill, wears dark and elegant clothes and looks at everyone like they are underneath her feet. You admired her confidence in every possible situation. 

You, well… You are somewhere in the middle between those two girls. Not too bright but definitely not too dark. However, you were confident in your own skin, so that is what matters.

"And there's all the medical tests we have to do," you went back to the conversation. "What if a woman is sterile, or a man? Would they be absolved from all of this?"

"From what I understood, yes." Tora replies, clearly munching something she is eating.

"I hope I'm sterile!" You hear the comment from somewhere behind Tora. You snort, recognizing Kira's voice.

"Shut up, you dark and pessimistic soul," Tora protests, and you couldn't smile wider. "Oooon another note… have you searched for what permissions we need to take the kids to the museum?"

"Oh, yes! They were kind enough to send me the papers for it." You smile, now excited with this news.

"Fuck. Have I ever told you two how much I admire the patience you both have to work with kids?" You hear movement with Kira's sudden comment from the other line, now closer to the phone. You could imagine both of them lying on their stomachs in Tora's bed.

You smile fondly at Kira's words. Tora and you are school teachers. You teach kids from four to five years old, while Tora decided to teach bigger kids, between nine and ten years old. Again, Kira is the opposite of you two. She is the one with a Stylist major and a very successful career in the fashion industry and all the juicy back stage details.

"No, but a bit of love won't hurt," you say feeling in high spirits even though the news of a big and detrimental change in society had just been announced.

"You kinky Miss Y/L/N, I love you," Kira says in a very seductive low tone of voice as you gasp and Tora erupts in a fit of laughter. She was clearly referring to you as your position of teacher, and that is something no joke should come from. You work with kids, for God's sake!

"Don't you ever say that again!" You protest, trying not to laugh thanks to Tora's contagious one.

"You love me, still." Kira's tone of matter of fact makes you shake your head smiling. These women were your salvation.

“I have an amazing idea!" Suddenly Tora yells in excitement, and you already see it coming, "Let’s say goodbye to Y/N's so beloved freedom and welcome the new hot and lickable male heroes and future husbands in a very 'Trick Trio' way!” You roll your eyes.

No. Never ask about Tora's way of calling your three person friendship. EVER.

You fake a tired sigh but then smile, “Pizza and anime?”

“Pizza and anime, baby!” Kira yells back, and you can hear their high-five through the phone.

See? How could you not be friends with them? They are definitely what you consider the sisters you never had.

.

"What if I get paired with Chargebolt… Or! What if it's Red Riot!" Tora's steps are little jumps as she walks in the middle looking like a kid who is about to be taken to their favorite toy shop. Her excitement is completely shared with Kira's, but the last one has more self consciousness and just chooses to smile as she walks as elegantly as always.

You sigh. It's not that you're completely against this atrocious law. It's more the part in which you don't have any say or choose in it. What if you end up with someone mean? Or a secret villain? Or what if it's someone who is horrible with kids?! 

You were not going to repeat your mom's history. Or so you hoped.

"You know what would be cool? Marrying Red Riot's abbs. Oh, what would I give to sit on that hot and sexy table."

You frown. How…? Why…? You shake your head. You are better not asking.

Being friends with those two taught you way more things than you expected. One of them was that there were times when you didn't need to know or to understand everything they talked about. This was one. 

"You know what's hotter? Dynamight's biceps." Tora contributes as their destination appears at the distance. "My hottest scenario includes Dynamight coming back from work, all sweaty and buffy and making me lick his biceps. Oh, I would gladly die for them."

The imagery makes you gag.

"That's disgusting, Tora," Kira says, surprising you and Tora herself. Kira is always up for nasty and dirty scenarios with the Pro Heroes they like. It's a bit weird that she is not on board with whatever Tora's vivid imagination comes up with. But suddenly, she smiles and looks sideways to her two friends, "I love it."

You roll your eyes for the nth time as Tora beams in the next thing Kira says, "My hottest scenario includes Deku smashing my ass to Detroit." She smiles proudly as Tora groans.

The imagery again makes you wince.

"I swear… those big, powerful hands, ugh."

You do not engage in this type of conversations. Not because you don't find some of this generation of Pro Heroes attractive, they are; and the way that they risk their own lives for the country is very admirable. It's just that you don't follow each thing they do, nor actually know much of them. Of course, you hear the stories of how they defeated some big villains –or even helped a nanny cross the street– through your two obsessed friends and the kids at school that idolized them. But even then, when the news on the TV turns into Heroes feats, you simply change the channel or even turn it off. You have better things to do, honestly.

Your friends keep going on their fake scenarios talk as you three approach the door to the big and ostentatious hospital where the tests for The Pairing are carried out. They are simple blood and Quirk tests, nothing too complicated. From what the old man in the conference said, it was mostly to analyze the physical aspects of each individual to pair them with the best possible counterpart that would have the chance to fertilize the egg on one hundred percent of success. Yes, those are the exact words he used. And the very small, tiny letters in between the lines said: to create humans with the best Quirks ever known.

Of course, no one would ever admit that.

You hmm to something Tora asks your agreement for, not really paying attention to what is the conversation about now.

You don't have a very useful Quirk; not that the thought of becoming a Hero has ever crossed your mind. In fact, being raised by a man like your grandps actually opened your eyes and never even the intention to know more about Heroes in general crossed your mind. So, you really doubt you would ever get paired with some Pro Hero. You're mostly sure that they will be very selective in that aspect. A useless Quirk like yours, which gave you the ability to create illusions, more specifically in paper –you had only once tried it on thin air, and you almost die; so nothing else but paper, thank you very much–, will get nowhere near a Quirk like the oh, all mighty and greatest Pro Hero Deku, for example.

As you look side eye to your friends, and knowing the type of Quirks they have –and their eternal fantasy over Pro Heroes–, you realize you don't have it in you to pop their delusional and warm looking bubble. They are happy in their bubble, and you love seeing them happy.

But the fact remains. They would never pair them with Pro Heroes.

Kira's Quirk consisted in her having the ability to manipulate small things with her fingers from a distance. It had helped her a lot in her career, especially when the time to apply makeup to her clients or even herself came. The distance wasn't much, a couple of feets away, but she said she had never been able to move anything bigger than an eye brush or a pencil. Nevertheless from a very far away distance. She is okay with it though, she is still a hot badass successful woman. You are so proud of her. In Tora's case, she could make letters on the school board or actually any surface grow bigger, but she had never tried it anywhere else. She always says that she's better not having a cool, massive Quirk, or she would be insufferably annoying to everyone. Something you do believe with all your might.

You are so immersed in your thoughts that you hear Tora's warning of "Y/N!" late. You collide with a strong wall, your nose hurting thanks to it. You actually have to rub it to alleviate the pain, already feeling the redness there. But when you open your eyes you realize that the wall turned out not to be a wall, but a man. A huge man. He is the biggest man you have ever stood close to. Tall, almost three heads over yours, arms that looked like big rocks thanks to the thickness. His face is handsome, strong jaw and fine lines that accentuated the elegance in any spot you looked at in his face.

But all that handsomeness is slightly uglied by the deep scowl in his eyebrows.

"Watch where you're going, grub."

His bark almost goes unnoticed by the thickness in his voice that makes you tingle in places it shouldn't. But as he walks past you, you realize what he said… Did he just…?

"Did you just call me a grub?"

He doesn't reply to you, but he does look slightly back at you and you see the corner of his mouth lift a slight centimeter in a smirk.

"Oh, fuck you, asshole!"

You yell as he simply walks out of the building through the door, not troubled at all by your insult.

What a stupid jerk.

"I'm on your side, I'll forever, always be on your side," Tora appears suddenly next to you, her hand grabbing yours as you watch the jerk walk away, "but that was a fine, delectable man that you just insulted very out loud in the middle of a Hospital reception."

"He started it." You defend yourself before turning around and walking towards the counter, trying to ignore all the stares in your direction.

You hear both of your friends sigh in delight as they keep staring at the guy.

"Traitors." You shake your head, receiving the form you had to complete from the receptionist. You wanted to get out of that Hospital as soon as possible.

Two hours later, you were sitting in front of an old lady who looked at you like you had just been the shit she accidentally stepped on outside, and it was your fault. By the white doctor's gown she wears, and the little medal of the government attached to the right pocket of the gown, it isn't difficult to comprehend that she is the medical scientist in charge of the whole Pairing part of the law.

"Your test results are good. All functioning well and wealthy. You are fertile." Her robot tone makes you angry, and you want to protest so hard about all this protocol bullshit–about the whole fucking law! But for some reason, you can't take your eyes from the big, heary looking mole that stands on her face, right next to her nose on the left side.

You can even hear Kira in your head, "That is an uuuuuugly mole. I mean, the woman is ugly, but that mole makes it worse. Like a witch. A witches face indeed. Would her Quirk be a witch?" And you can hear Tora laughing at Kira's words. And you feel bad about thinking about all of this as the woman speaks.

"It won't take long to find a perfect match for your eggs." You visibly wince at her words. 

"The fact that you people call it egg, only makes me feel like a chicken being prepared to–..."

"A chicken would be able to find itself a partner faster than you. Your age and still no children? You're clearly the problem, not your body."

You're sitting perplexed in your seat. The hot, very fucking hot sensation of letting yourself explode in anger travelling up your body. Who the fuck does she think she is?

Now you definitely don't feel bad about your thoughts.

She sighs, tiredly and annoying at your mere presence, "You shall receive a letter in the span of three to five days with the results. There will also be the date in which you'll have to meet your husband with the representative governor who will make you sign the contract."

She closes your chart and puts it away, then she looks boringly at you, expecting you to go.

The venom is right at your tongue, and you can't go without saying anything to this… horrible woman.

"I'm twenty five years old, and I haven't had kids because I made the choice not to. You're almost sixty, what's your excuse?"

Hell, you don't know if she has or not kids of her own, but by the expression on her face, eyes and mouth opening wide in indignance, says you have just spot on the right thing to say.

You smile, big and fakingly charming, as you stand and leave the doctor's office without giving her a chance to say anything else.

Once you're outside, you swear loudly. You just dug your own grave. Fuck.

.

Two days later, a letter was left in your mailbox. It had the signature of the Government so it wasn't difficult to comprehend that it was about this freaking law. You don't open it though until you're inside your apartment. You leave it at the table, while throwing your bag and tote bag  with the Tupperware of the day inside, over the couch. You need to firstly freshen up before you get into your house duties.

You turn on the TV, news channel currently going, and walk towards your room to get changed. Thanks to the small apartment you own, you don't need to have the TV very loud to be able to hear it from your room. You leave alone, you don't need much or a bigger space.

"It happened again! Heroes Deku and Dynamight saved the day once more! A group of synchronized villains attack the Central Bank of Tokyo, witnesses say–..." 

You huff, not really paying attention anymore. It's not that you aren't interested in what happened, you'll know either way tomorrow when Tora goes on about it, all day.

Once you're more comfortable, you walk back to the living room/kitchen, grab your tote bag so you put all the Tupperware to wash, still news of heroes on the TV that you really don't pay attention to. When that's done, tote bag folded back in its drawer and everything cleaned up, you turn and see the letter. You sigh, grab it and walk to the couch to sit.

"On other news, the Law is already taking effect in our country. Today, after five days of the official announcement, the first three couples have signed the Contracts after being Paired. All of the males are Heroes."

"Do you think it is a coincidence?" Comments the other journalist of the show.

"I don't think it is. It's clear that Heroes have the pressure to make this work alongside the government," answers another, to whom you snort in agreement.

"I agree. I don't know if it's by duty or support, but in the end, they are like us, don't you think?"

They kept talking about it as you opened the envelope in your hands and read its content.

'Ms Y/L/N, the government it's pleased to announce that your results have been Paired. We happily wait for you on the following date to meet your Paired to officially place a date for your Contracts.'

You feel like vomiting.

Shit, it's happening faster than you thought.

[prophecyofwinter]

Across the Sea and to the East

Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: Under your uncle’s usurpation of your brother you have been sent away to hide in Lys under House Rogare. You’ve found new purpose with the Lord of Light but you will be called home soon.

Tags: slight slow burn, actual burning, violence, smut, angst, tags will be added as we go.

Authors Note (new!): I will be releasing a prologue for another Aemond x Reader fic soon! I love writing about Essos so I had a good idea for a story about Saera Targaryens daughter. Keep an eye out! I will take turns for chapters between the two.

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | Prologue

Chapter 4: A Womb and A Prophecy

It was a beautiful Lysene morning. It was raining therefore no morning fire, so you were able to go back to House Rogare to spend some extra time with your adoptive siblings.

Ten siblings you acquired, not including bastards, most are younger than you. Including your sweet sister Larra, she turned four and ten just a few moons ago. She has been sweetly attached to your side since you arrived in Lys.

The two of you sat in the greenhouse seating area snacking on small treats. The pitter-patter of the rain on the glass smoothed you greatly as you sipped your tea down. You wore a lovely red gown, made of light and airy fabrics to match Lys’s weather and style of fashion. You would have to find yourself a new wardrobe as to not be seen as a foreigner in your home country.

Larra curiously twirled her thumbs, thinking before she spoke.

“Father tells me you are to go to Westeros soon. Does that make you happy sister?”

You let out a breath of laughter out of your nose, leaning back in your seat.

“Why yes, yes I am happy to go to Westeros… though it is not to Winterfell, King’s Landing will have to do.”

Larra got a little pouty, you weren’t sure if it’s because she’d miss you or if she wanted to go to King’s Landing herself. Even if you wanted to bring her, you truly had no promise you would come out unharmed. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if Larra somehow got involved.

“I’m sure you will go to Westeros one of these days Larra, I don’t believe you’d quite like it though.”

Naturally you can’t have more than a few moments of peace and footsteps quickly approach your seating area. You sigh out loud and turn to a proper position to greet your interrupter.

You sucked in an abrupt breath, not expecting this visitor without a notice. One of the highest priests from the Red Temple in Volantis, she stood draped in red robes with a mask of gold covering her face. Her dedication to the Lord is commendable, she gave up all identity to have no obstructions in her faith. She was nobody but a faithful servant of the Light.

“Priestess, I had no word of your incoming arrival or I would have met you at the Temple myself.”

You stood to meet her, she bowed respectfully as one must do in your presence.

“It is raining so I knew I would find you here my Lady. Apologize but it was far too urgent to wait and it is too private to be sent by letter. I must speak to you privately.”

Goosebumps creeped up your body, her phrasing worried you immensely. You peaked over your shoulder to Larra and nodded your head to tell her you’ll be back shortly.

“In private is where we will speak Priestess.”

——————

You took her to one of the guest rooms, decorated beautifully with beautiful architecture like the rest of the house. The rain gave the room an odd darker feeling.

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a sword. Even for someone as experienced as her, even she didn’t know how to go about it. That tells you it must be of extreme unique importance.

“I have many things to attend to today so if-“

“Do you remember the Azor Ahai prophecy?”

How could you not, it was one of the first things you learned about in the temples. It’s a tale every child in Essos hears tenfold.

“Of course I do but I don’t see how that was so important to come all this way for.”

For the first time you see the Priestess look nervous, or at least you could tell from over her mask. You assume there’s more to it so you allow her to speak uninterrupted.

“You must play your own part in the Prophecy my lady. I know R’hllor has told you, you make your own path and this is your choice as well. However, if it is to come to fruition there are circumstances to cultivate it.”

“You are beating around the bush, out with it.” You speak with slight frustration.

“Azor Ahai must come from your and a dragon lord's blood. If you are to go to Westeros it would be wise to secure something for yourself. It would be unwise to rely on your descendants to do it for you.”

Oh, well. Beat around the bush she did not. Yours and a Dragon Lord's blood? Targaryens are the only Dragon Lord’s left so that’s all she could mean. Oh.

“Oh. So I must have children with one of the Targaryens is what you mean.”

“Yes. Since you have a past with Prince Aemond I would hope the choice would be there. Do not leave Westeros empty handed my lady.”

This complicates things for you, going to Westeros was in part to see Aemond. But, what if he has moved on and has no desire for you. That is always a risk, and now the fate of the prophecy rests on you getting Aemond to marry you. If you were a man and Aemond a woman, it may have been easier to manage.

“I see. Is that all?”

“Yes, that is all. I will be seeing you for prayer this evening my lady. I look forward to it.”

As she leaves you feel a sense of weakness fill your bones, you have to sit down. This doesn’t feel right, you had been promised a life free from these exact circumstances, though it’s presented as a choice.

In reality, it really is not.

In less than 2 weeks you will be faced with more choices and consequences then you had ever wished for.

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED BTS FICS OF AUGUST 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of august! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Drabble Request || @simp-4-jm🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ "I won't hurt you", "I'm not the jealous type, but what's mine's mine." & "could they make you feel this good ?"

My Love Is Here || @solemnreads🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened.

New Guy || @kithtaehyung🔞✅

↳ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance. but the new guy is completely disrupting things… or is he?

Distant Affection || @soobszzn💕✅

↳ doing everyday tasks wasn’t a hassle when jungkook was with you - even if that meant you were miles apart.

Every Side Of You || @folkookie97🔞💕✅

↳ Jungkook is a devil when he's fucking you and an angel when he's out of bed. You need his aftercare just like you need his tattooed arm choking you so hard.

Late Night Drive || @trina864🔞💕✅

↳ You and your boyfriend take a late night drive through the city where you met, it starts out with love, ends with a round of fuck and love.

Bunny Talk || @woncon💕💔✅

↳ your hybrid is acting strange lately. When you're not enough to help, you call Seokjin over to check on Jungkook. The diagnosis is shocking.

Temporary Home || @lovelyglares💕💔✅💯

↳ Jin decides after months of peer pressure and arguments from his friends- to finally decide to adopt a hybrid to help diminish his loneliness and grief. He meets you, whom cant be adopted but he decides to try to foster you. Everything changes when you arrive. Suddenly, Jin’s unsure about the ‘temporary placement’ now. (this is a oneshot but i hope the author decides to do a series later on because i need some more seokjin fics)

(Un)Natural Instincts || @bangtanflirt💕💔🔄💯

↳ You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Bangtan's Receptionist || @wooataes💕💔✅

↳ Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.

Collateral || @theharrowing🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You. But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

Perks Of Being A Househusband || @sunnebeam💕🔄💯

↳ the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

Ramen Bullets || @flowerwrites06💕💔✅💯

↳ Yoongi had been good at avoiding conversations regarding commitment because of his career. Until his career forces him to face his own reality.

Hard Liquor || @chateautae🔞✅💯

↳ your dull evening at a bar becomes hopeful when your mysterious, handsome boss min yoongi shows you the ropes on everything alcohol, but shows you much more when he ends up buried deep inside you.

Lace & Luxury || @kooktrash🔞💕✅💯

↳ Money, Money, Money, must be funny in the rich man’s world. At least that’s how you feel working day and night to make end’s meet and still never having enough. Out of nowhere you get roped into a give and take relationship with a very powerful fashion designer who shows you the way into a life of luxury and lingerie. You’ve become his muse and in exchange he’s become your source of pleasure and riches. It’s a rich man’s world and you’re living in it.

Only Her || @tbtssstuff🔞✅

↳ Kim Taehyung and his twin brother V always shared everything with each other. Food, clothes, and the love of killing. No one ever understood them until they move to Seoul and meet y/n, the pretty barista at the coffee shop down the road. Now they had to have you in their lives and no one could stand in their way.

Secrets We Keep || @yoongiofmine🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and  you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? 

Somebody Does Love || @bloomjoonie💔✅💯💯

↳ You never wanted to burden Yoongi with your problems, he was healing and you weren’t even close but he was your best friend and he’d always turn up for you.

Tricks Of The Trade || @stutterfly🔞💕✅💯💯💯

↳ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That’s why you frequent it. It’s definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you’ve been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you’re waking up in a body that definitely doesn’t belong to you. You can’t decide if it’s the best or worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

Cool With You || @kooktrash🔞💕💔✅

↳ your break up from kim taehyung sent you spiraling into what felt like a midlife crisis of tear stained cheeks and tubs of half eaten ice cream with a broken heart. after finding out that your neighbor, jeon jungkook, was eavesdropping on your meltdowns and came to find out that your ex was his old friend, he found himself wanting to comfort you. he knew the kind of guy Taehyung was and he didn’t want to see you beat yourself up over a guy who wasn’t worth it so in the end he helped you through it and was unable to ignore the growing attraction you felt toward each other.

For You || @fruitmins🔞💕✅

↳ Yoongi is the son of a big business man and is now the CEO of the million dollar company so naturally he grew up distant and stern. But suddenly, his attitude changes when he meets you, a local kind hearted stripper that catches his curiosity. He finds himself lost in your smile and warm spirit, despite him being the opposite. But he’s willing to let down his walls you for..

Gym Bunny || @bebejungkook🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ After being tired of feeling insecure you decided to take your friends advice and hit the gym. The only problem is you don’t know what to do, but luckily the very muscular and scary guy next to you offered to teach you a couple things. He just also happens to be the sweetest man you’ve ever met and not scary at all. You catch yourself falling in love with him on your journey of self love, but old insecurities stop you from doing anything about it.

Kitty Brew || @hyukaslvr💕✅💯

↳ one of your favorite places was a kitty cafe in your town, your favorite place for a reason. yoongi, or as your roommate calls him ‘cat boy’, has been catching your eye every since you’ve went there for the first time. only going to the cafe for him, and the cute cats they have there ofc, when will you get the guts to actually talk to the boy beside telling him your coffee order everyday?

Made-Up Love Song || @floralseokjin🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

The Taste Of Sin || @shadowkoo🔞💔✅

↳ Following his sister's passing, Taehyung faced a daunting battle within himself, one where he eventually succumbed to the enveloping shadows that gripped his soul. Your task is to free him from the clutches of the black magic that now consumes him. The only problem? He doesn't want to be saved.

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[rveyjules]

A Second Chance

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings,  p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word Count: 4.8k+

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This is the third part of my story. It was supposed to be posted yesterday but then our internet went oops. This story is entirely fictional. I do not know exactly what the President and the Prime Minister do for the country. It is the same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue, so please don't hesitate to let me know if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.

Part 1 Part 2

—

“I need to talk to you,” You started in a stern tone. 

          Okay, change of plans, you thought. Leon nodded and stood aside and let you in. You went inside, looking around his apartment unit. His place was dimmed, reflecting his personality. You heard him close the door and approached you. 

“How did you know that I am living across from your place?” He asked and you scoffed. 

“Isn’t this place included in your address in your personal data? I checked it.” You replied looking around his place.

          He does not have too much stuff. A TV, couch, coffee table, and a carpet in the living room. His kitchen has a stove, oven, a sink, and a dish organizer. And his room which you are expecting to be neat and tidy with a closet, a comfortable bed, a desk with whatever he has. 

“I won’t stay too long. I just want to tell you some things.” 

“Well, you don’t need to go here. You can just call me.”

“But I want to see you personally,” With your answer, Leon smirked and crossed his arms to his chest, looking at you with his brow raised. You cleared your throat and continued. “I mean, you are my bodyguard so I believe there’s nothing wrong if the boss personally visited her employee.” 

“Since when did you start explaining yourself?” Leon smirked, making you speechless. 

               You don’t like explaining yourself when you have made a decision and this time is beyond unexpected. “Are you questioning my decision to explain myself? Your face brightened up when I said I want to meet you personally but the reason why I am here is to tell you something.” 

“And what is it, sweetie?” He added. 

“Stop with the nicknames, Leon. I am not playing around with you. I just want to warn you that David is getting suspicious of us. Your gestures are crossing the line of the relationship of the boss and her bodyguard. If David noticed it, what more when the people do?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t you think because your former bodyguards don't show how bodyguards must act protective like I do around you? No wonder bullets managed to be fired without the guard realizing that someone has threatened your life.” 

“Leon, I know that you are trying to get closer to me again. Your blazer jacket won’t protect me from bullets.” You rebutted. 

“Hah! That’s what you thought! That blazer jacket is bulletproof. The President gave it to me personally. Don’t you appreciate the President’s effort to protect you?”

“I do appreciate him!” You snapped. “And why are you talking back to me? I am your boss! You have no right to— hmph!” Leon interrupted you by cupping your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly. 

          You were surprised by the sudden action and tried to push him away but Leon didn’t let you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and waist, bringing you closer to him. He truly missed you, he missed kissing you, he missed embracing you into his arms. Slowly, you give in to him. You did not kiss him back but you did not pull away or attempt to push him away. You just let him be. 

            The kiss lasted until both of you needed to pull away to breathe. Leon was smiling at your flushed expression and kissed your cheek. “Don’t scold me anymore. I understand that you are just protecting your image. But please also understand why am I being affectionate of you aside from protecting you from harm luring around.” 

“That’s because I am marrying David,” You added. “I don’t want to look like I am being unfaithful to my fiance.” 

“You’re just using him as your excuse. Too bad that trick of yours did not work on me.”

              He’s right. Including David in this conversation is just your way of hiding the reason why you go there. You wanted to confront him already. You have a lot of questions in your mind that are still unanswered. You badly want them to be solved right away. Seeing Leon after fifteen years is unbearable for you. And he knows it. 

             Leon felt that you were tearing up, unable to express the feeling you wanted to express. You felt weak, feeling the lump forming in your throat that prevents you from speaking. He hugged you, resting your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. You stayed like that, feeling each other’s warmth. 

“I hate you… so much.” You whispered.

“And I love you more, darling.” He replied, gently tilting your head up and pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply.

—

               The next day, you went to the White House after receiving a call from the President that there’s something that needs to be discussed regarding the conflict between the US and Russia. The meeting took three hours. You gave suggestions and the President appointed specific government agencies to settle things first with Russia before deciding if there will be a war if Russia did not agree on the agreement that was prepared by the US. Being the President’s secret weapon is a big responsibility. He trusts your plans and suggestions along with other government agencies. You are one of the representatives of the US in the UN. Other world leaders acknowledged your presence. And that’s the proof that you are one of the most powerful women in the world.

               You are now currently in the waiting room, alone while reading a book. The President told you to wait for your father to come as he needs to attend another meeting with the councils. While waiting, you heard the door open. You turned your head and saw David, grinning from ear to ear.

“So, how is the show? Shall I give you an award as the Outstanding Seductress of All Time?” He teased you as he closed the door behind him and walked towards you. 

               You rolled your eyes on him, “I did your advice. Where’s my $100,000?” You asked directly to the point. David gasped at you. “You seriously went naked and danced while your stalker was watching?!” 

“For the sake of $100,000, I did.” 

“What?! Seriously?!” David couldn’t believe that you actually did that and be unbothered at the ridiculous action you made. 

             You did not regret it. Knowing that your stalker was always keeping an eye on you whether it was private or out in public. You flipped the page of the book and smirked. “If I were you, I wouldn’t include money if you’re making a dangerous bet with a woman like me. So, yeah. $100,000 must be added to my bank account right now.” 

“Fine,” David grinned and pulled out his phone and opened his bank app and sent you the money. 

            Your phone dinged, saying that you received the money already. You opened your phone and to your surprise, David only sent you $1. You shoot him a death glare and close the book. David loves annoying you and he knew that he fucked up. 

            You pounced on him, sitting on his lap and took his phone out of his grasp. Thankfully, his phone isn’t locked yet so you tapped some icons to send money. David moved, trying to grab his phone back but you shoved him off and stood up to proceed in sending the money to your account. 

“Yah! Give me my phone!” David whined. You ignored him and sent the $99,999 left to complete the $100,000 bet.

           After successfully sending the money, you press the home screen and to your surprise, you are David’s wallpaper. You smirked and looked at him, showing his wallpaper. “What is this?” You teased me. 

“Give it back to me!” David hissed, attempting to take his phone back but you ran around the room while he was trying to get his phone back. You keep running until David pounces on you, causing you to fall to the floor. 

               Both of you are wrestling each other with loud noises coming from your mouths. Leon, who came back to the White House after dealing with some stuff, went to the waiting room where you are in. He got inside of the room without knocking and then… his heart dropped to his stomach. He saw David being on top of you. You felt his presence so you decided to give the phone back to David and pushed him off you. 

“O-oh… Agent Kennedy!” David greeted him, still trying to reach for his phone, meaning that he was moving his body against yours that was inappropriate for Leon. 

             In the end, David grabbed his phone from your grasp and got off you. You scoffed and stood up, fixing your skirt. Leon was stunned, seeing you in a submissive position under David. He cleared his throat and spoke…

“Miss L/n, your father has arrived.” There’s a jealousy in his voice. He couldn’t even look you in the eye. 

“Alright, I’m coming.” You went to the couch and grabbed your purse before leaving the door with Leon, tailing behind you. 

—

            As usual, you did not have a good conversation with your dad. He was still persuading you to marry David to keep the family’s legacy and to be powerful in the future. He was planning to run for the position of the President after the current President’s term ends. Having you beside him is a big advantage. With your influence, he trusts your plans to make him successfully reach the top. 

           You would help your father, yes. But he is crossing the boundary already. He had been pressuring you ever since. Even after you survived the apocalypse, your father did not even ask you how you are. Instead, he scolded you for going there and accused you of seeing someone in that city. Well, yes. Leon’s the reason why you go there. You went to Raccoon City to congratulate him personally on his first day as a police officer. But then, shit happens. 

           There are times where you’d glare at him behind his back. He looks like he’s a good family man in public, smiling at children and wife. But behind closed doors, he was a demanding father. He’s expecting his children to bring him fortune and help him climb the political ladder. That’s why his children studied Law. But among his children, you are the most unfavored one. 

           Your father argued about your arranged marriage with David. You received a lot of hurtful words. You were used to it but this time… you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You are nothing but a disgrace in this family! After all the things I’ve done for you—” He said but you interrupted him. “You’ve done nothing but to bring me pain, Papa!” You snapped at him. 

          Your father was shocked to hear you talking back to him. 

“I’ve done everything for you, Papa! I did everything you told me to do! But it’s too much…” You lowered your voice as tears started falling down your eyes. 

“Why are you crying? I am not even giving you a reason to cry!” He yelled at you. 

“You did a lot of times, Papa! There are a lot of reasons for me to cry but there’s only one cause and that’s you! No one has given me this kind of pain but my own father! You never comforted me after I survived the zombie apocalypse in Raccoon City! You wanted me to be like this and to be like that and I did because I am your obedient daughter! And you always turn your back on me when I need you the most…” You sobbed. 

“For you, I am not your daughter, but your retirement plan.” 

            After that, you left your father in pain. You asked Leon to bring you home. You told the executive secretary to tell the President that there’s an urgent meeting in the law firm as well as you need to do something in the CIA. Leon knew that something wasn't right despite his jealousy. Your eyes were telling him that you needed someone to lean on. And in your case, no one knows what kind of comfort you need. Not Ashley, not David, the President, or even your own family. 

              During your ride, you fell asleep without noticing because of exhaustion. Leon saw you sleeping in peace so he decided to go to McDonald's drive thru to buy some food for you to eat when you wake up. Back then, when you are still together, eating relieves your stress. That’s why you’d ask him to buy you food when he comes home from the Police Academy. He remembers every detail of what to do when you are in this kind of situation. He also bought you sodas, juices, and chocolates because you have a sweet tooth. 

            While he was out, buying you chips from the convenience store, you stirred awake. You were quite confused why the hell are you in the parking lot of a convenience store. You peeked out and found Leon inside with bags of your favorite chips in his arms, walking to the counter. You smiled a little, realizing that he remembers what to do when you felt uneasy. When he was coming back, you returned to your sleeping position and closed your eyes, pretending to sleep. 

           You heard the door open and Leon get inside, looking at your sleeping figure. He smiled and held your hand for a second before putting the plastics of chips and drinks in the passenger seat beside his seat. He closed the door and drove away to the place where you can be free and ease the heavy feeling you have. 

             The ride was so long that you fell asleep again. When you woke up, it was already sunset. Leon wasn’t in the driver’s seat which confused you. You peeked out of the window and found that you are on top of a mountain where you can see the beautiful city lights that started to spew. You got out and looked around your surroundings. Leon was there, standing staring into the peaceful city. 

“Leon, where are we?” You asked, approaching him. “You’re going to kill me?” You asked. 

“Of course not. If I do, then it would also be the death of me.” He chuckled. 

          You turned to your side and looked into the city from afar. It was so peaceful here. Only the sounds of wind blowing making your hair dance in the air calms you, slowly losing the heavy feeling you have due to your argument with your father. Even without saying it, Leon felt it. He smiled that he somehow helped you ease your mind from the stressful work you have in the city. 

           After a long silence, you decided to confront him already regarding your complicated relationship with him. This is the perfect time for your questions to be answered…

“Why did you come back?” You asked. 

              Leon looked at you and found you looking to afar, waiting for his response. 

“If I tell you the reason, will you believe me?” 

“That depends on your answer whether it was acceptable for me or not.” You replied. 

“Y/n, are you still angry at me?” He asked.

“Yes. I answered your question, now answer mine.” 

“I’ll answer it at the right time.” 

“Isn’t this the right time for me to know?”

“Yes. I will tell you but not now.”  

“Okay, another question. Were you stalking me?” You asked, catching Leon off guard. 

“What?” He asked, surprised. You looked at him and scoffed. 

“Don’t ask me that or even give me that look as if I was wrong. You even put cameras around my place to keep an eye on me. Shall I compliment you for being a protective bodyguard, Agent Kennedy?” You asked sarcastically. 

“I knew that you had intentions why you accepted the offer to become my bodyguard. But I want you to know that I never needed anyone to save me in the first place. I’ve survived five assassination attempts and none of them was successful. Most especially, I never wanted to see you again.” You said, without hesitation. 

“Now you know the truth, you can shut up already. Just go and eat the food I bought for you.”  Leon responded, trying to change the topic again. He knew that this would end up into something worse so he wants to stop it before it occurs. 

“See? Even now… you’re avoiding my point again. You’re pushing me away. But what can I expect from you? You’re nothing but a traitor. You’re selfish!” Feeling yourself out of control, those words slipped out of your mouth and tears clouded your eyes.

“Enough, Y/n…” He warned you but you keep pushing his buttons. 

“Isn’t it true?! You’re selfish! You’re a liar! A cheater!” You called him such names that made him lose his patience so he yelled. 

“I said enough!” He shot you a glare. It silenced you. 

“You have no idea how much I regret leaving you that night, Y/n! I am having nightmares not because of that zombie outbreak or even Ada but you! Because I still care about you! Morning, noon, and night, I care about you!” 

            You retorted, “After fifteen fucking years, Leon! After betraying me for a manipulative woman, you got the nerve to say that you cared about me!” Tears started to spill out of your eyes. “You know that you can decline the President’s offer to recommend you to the Prime Minister to become my bodyguard but why did you come back? Why did you think of coming back? Why did you accept the offer?”

“I want to protect you, Y/n. I badly want to protect you. I’ve been working secretly to capture those bastards who tried to assassinate you, ordered by the President. And yes, you are right! I could’ve declined the offer already but I didn’t because I care about you!” 

“I wish you knows how badly you fucked me up that night. You know I don’t deserve that. My only mistake was that I made you my priority when I was just your second choice.” You sobbed. “Everytime I look at you, I keep wondering how you felt when you left. I wonder if you had any regrets when you escaped without me. You know to yourself that I loved you more than anything. I wanted to keep you safe. That's why I didn’t hesitate to point my gun to Ada when I found out her secret. But you doubted me, Leon. You doubted my love and devotion to you.” 

             Leon listened to your cries that you have been keeping for months. Among the two of you, you are the most affected one. That's why you got into this point. It was all because of him that’s why you became this way. 

“I gave you my four years. Even though I was just a teenager, I do know that I love you with all of my heart. I loved you for four years, Leon. And in those four years, it’s just that one time I got tired. Tired of seeing you being with Ada. I was tired of pretending that your flirtings are fine with me to not be called paranoid and delusional. It’s just that one time I asked myself if I still can fight. It’s just that one time, in the many times I could have given up, but I didn’t. One time I had the courage to tell you how I felt. That I was hurt and even losing myself. I needed you to fight for us that night. Because I was so tired of fighting alone. To fight, that even if I tell you to leave, you wouldn’t leave. That even if I pushed you away, you’d go back to me and embrace me in your arms. Because you know me. I just said that because I was tired but I love you, Leon! I still love you!” 

“I’ve been longing to come back and apologize to you,” Leon replied. “Even now that I am working under the President’s order to keep an eye on you, I still don’t have the courage to tell you how sorry I am. Before the government wiped out Raccoon City, I planned to come back and look for you with hopes that I will see you again. But I was too late to find out that the government had finalized the plan. They already dropped a deadly bomb before I knew it.”

“That’s why when Ashley mentioned you to me when I was saving her in Spain, I felt encouraged and relieved to hear that you survived. I waited a lot of years to find the perfect time to face you. And this job as your bodyguard is my only way. I still love you, Y/n. I truly do.” 

“But that one time I told you how I felt, you chose to leave. Is that how you love, Leon? How could you not find a reason to stay?” 

             Leon was stunned at your statement. It was supposed to be a calming afternoon for both of them and watch the sunset beyond the horizon as well as look into the city lights of the beautiful city. But it turned out it wasn’t. Leon did really hurt you and he blames himself for that. 

“My engagement with David will be announced in public in the next two weeks. After that announcement, I want you gone. It’s either you will resign yourself or I will fire you.

           Leon scoffed at your statement. “You’re firing me because you don’t want me to work under you anymore or you're firing me because you know you couldn’t bear to be with another man without me occupying your mind?” He had caught you in the act. 

“Admit it or not, I know you don’t want to marry the Senator’s son. You don’t want to marry him, do you? I told you already last night. Don’t make things complicated for us.” He added, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“For the sake of my power and glory, why not?” 

“Oh, yeah?” Leon smirked before saying. “Then, look me in the eye and say that you want to marry him.” He challenged you. You tried but ended up looking away after a few seconds. 

        The man smirked and suddenly wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to him, leaving no spaces between you. Your breasts are pressed against his toned chest and you can feel his abs against you behind his dress shirt. Your faces are so close to each other that in one move, you two will end up kissing. 

          Leon stared deeply into your eyes and whispered. “You can’t because you still love me.” It was true. No matter how much you denied it, it was so goddamned true and you hate it. 

“I hate you so much.” You whispered. He giggled at your comment and replied…

“Oh, and I love you too…” 

           Then, he kissed so passionately. He kissed you like his life depended on it. He finally had the chance to pull you close to him and kiss you again as he craved this for a long time. That kiss you shared last night isn’t enough. You know and understand it the way he deeply kisses you. He pulled away and started kissing your jawline and neck, inhaling the vanilla scent he loves. 

“You have no idea how much I longed to kiss you like this. I want to push you against the wall and kiss you so badly when I am close to you.”  He whispered and kissed your cheek. 

             You hold onto his shoulder as you breathe. Leon lifted you up in his arms and sat you on top of the car and there he continued to kiss you, setting himself between your legs. You felt his hand caressing your thigh while his other hand was at the back of your head. But what surprises you is that he is not even touching you further. You are wearing nothing but panties underneath your skirt but Leon isn’t trying to do something else. He doesn’t look like he’s asking for permission from you. 

“My darling, do you think I am going to take your precious possession? Of course, not yet.” He smirked, regarding your virginity.

“You are really my stalker. You even know if I am still a virgin or not.” You scoffed. 

“I’ll accept that as a compliment.” He replied, rubbing his nose against you and pecking your lips. “If you think that little strip show you did last night will make me do bad things to you, you’re definitely wrong. It turns me on, yes. But I know what kind of a seductress you are and I didn’t fall into your trap.” 

You were stunned that he knows that you intentionally put on a show for him. But you cleared your throat and denied his claim by replying with a witty response.

“Oh, Leon. Even without using my seducing skills, I can make anyone fall into my trap. That’s why I always win my cases in the court and complete my missions successfully.” 

“Then, there is me, the only survivor of your venom.” 

“Shut up. I’m still angry at you,” You rolled your eyes on him and pushed him off you. You stood up and about to leave but Leon held your gloved hand. 

             You hissed and looked at him. Leon looked directly into your eyes. He doesn’t want you to leave. Your body moved on its own as Leon pulled you to him again and sat down on top of the car again. He pulled down your coat and tossed it away, exposing your bare shoulders and collarbones. Soft kisses were pressed against your shoulder and neck, making you close your eyes and tilt your head to the side as his arms wrapped around you. His hands held your hands, interwinding your fingers together. 

“Take them off,” He demanded, referring to your gloves. You hummed in response. “You heard me. Take them off.” He repeated. 

              Still, you didn’t move. Leon sighed before slowly taking off your gloves with such gentle and care. You didn’t stop him or remorse from removing your gloves. Once your gloves are removed, he looks at your scars. It made him even more guilty, knowing that it was him who gave these to you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have left you that night. I shouldn’t have kissed her behind your back.” He whispered, kissing forehead as his thumb rubs against your scar gently. 

“Let me love you again, Y/n. Please, let’s be forever together. I want to make it up to you. Fifteen years of waiting is too much for me to waste this opportunity.” 

               You looked him in the eyes. You cupped his cheeks, caressing him with your thumb. He hummed in satisfaction, feeling your soothing touch. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. Your thumb grazes his lower lip. 

“You know that we can’t, right? It is a rule that an employer must never love her employee. I am especially bound to marry David Carter.” You replied to him which made him scoff at your excuse. 

“You can talk back to your father like a brat but you can’t break his rules? Arranged marriages are bullshit. Your father is definitely pushing all your buttons. And don’t use him as your excuse anymore.” You chuckled at his response.

“Papa doesn’t know that we had a relationship back then. I never even mentioned your name to him. Because if he does, will we be in this kind of situation?” 

“Isn’t this supposed to be the right time to break free from your father’s chains? He wants you to become the First Lady of the country by marrying the son of the Senate President.” 

“We’re not fully okay, Leon. Don’t forget that. I do not forgive anyone who caused me a lot of pain that easily. If you want to be with me, prove yourself that you are worthy of my love and devotion. I have trust issues because of you.” 

          Leon scoffed and pecked your lips. “Is that so? I think I can overcome that.” 

“Hmm? How so?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s a secret. I have my ways to make you give in to me especially when I know that you still love me.” He chuckled, brought your scarred wrist to his lips and kissed them. “Don’t be insecure of your scars anymore. I love them even though I am the one who caused it.” 

“Don’t deny yourself to me, baby. A prosecutor must never lie.” 

“Don’t you dare bring up my profession here. And I am not insecure of my scar. I just don’t like showing it to people.” You warned and he giggled before pulling you into another kiss. 

“Of course. This is about you and me. Can you stay here tonight? I promise, no one would know. I can make excuses to your guards.” 

“Even if I say no, I am sure you will insist.” You rolled your eyes.

 —

To Be Continued...

[gigagendergt]

🧡AUTUMN GT WRITING CONTEST AND CHAPBOOK ZINE 🧡

PLEASE BOOST

🍂🧚🏽‍♀️🦇🍁🌻🌧️

Hello friends! I’m sure you’ve noticed that the writing in the gt community has died off quite a bit. Also, the community is a little inactive. Therefore, I’m doing a ZINE BOOST!! That’s right folks, let’s make our very own zine! Things accepted to the zine: art, writing, anything g/t related, community posts, fiction, nonfiction about gt yearning, you name it!

In the interest of encouraging our writers, I’m very happy to announce a new event, our autumn short story writing contest! Guidelines are as follows:

☀️ Please submit one short story, NO MORE THAN fifteen pages single-spaced and NO LESS THAN one page single spaced.

☀️ART SUBMISSIONS for the zine are not part of a contest, however, I will gladly include them!

☀️ Your short story must be themed around autumn and gt in some way! Any genre is accepted as long as it contains those two concepts. Some ideas: hot chocolate, falling leaves, cold nights, warm sweaters, angst/comfort, storms and weather!

☀️Collaboration and helping each other is encouraged! However submissions will be judged by me, therefore, I can’t help you or be biased in any way!

☀️JUDGEMENT CRITERIA: Your submission will be judged based on completion, prose, skill level, and how well it adheres to the prompt! PLEASE NOTE THAT AN UNFINISHED STORY OR A FRAGMENT WILL NOT DO AS WELL AS COMPLETED DRAFTS.

PRIZES FOR WRITING CONTEST

☀️ FIRST PRIZE gets a $15 gift certificate from @gigagendergt for thriftbooks.com, a website where you can find your favorite books for cheap, and a prime spot in the zine!

🔆 SECOND PRIZE gets a $10 gift certificate to thriftbooks.com and a prime spot in the zine!

🔅THIRD PRIZE gets a $5 gift certificate to thriftbooks.com and a prime spot in the zine!

ZINE AND GUIDELINES

🧡 Please do not include anything offensive, prejudiced, or otherwise harmful.

🧡 NSFW content is allowed for artistic purposes, but please be aware that the zine is not a directly kink-oriented space.

🧡 Please respect the final judgement of @gigagender on the winners and encourage each other rather than tearing each other down!

SEND ALL SUBMISSIONS TO gtzinesubmissions@gmail.com!

THE DEADLINE IS NOVEMBER 21ST

I’m so excited to read all your amazing submissions! For any clarification ask me at @gigagendergt!

[a-strange-server]

🦋 Strange Tales Of Halloween 2024 👻

It’s finally happening! The most awaited server event makes its yearly appearance! Can you believe it’s our third time?! Here’s to participation in whatever form you desire, let’s be strange together and make some spooky things!

Anyway, as our baby event grows, this year we decided to make one significant change: instead of lasting a whole month, the event is set during the last 2 weeks of October.

Brief info:

The event is set between 18–31 October 2024

We are open to all forms of creativity (fics, art, gifs, etc.) 🦋

42 prompts to choose from (2 types: words & sentences); 3 daily prompts

The main rule — works centred around Stephen Strange

Tag with #strangehalloween2024, so we can reblog on our Tumblr

If applicable, submit in our dedicated ao3 collection

Art by @unnnamedidiot with permission to use for the event. Show your support and reblog their amazing art!

We hope that you will once again have fun with Strange Tales of Halloween, whether by active participation or enjoyment of the contributions! Please remember to show your appreciation in comments, reblogs, kudos, etc. We encourage you to let others know that you like someone’s work! The fandom and its growing content exists because we want to be there, engaging with another. This is what allows Strange Tales of Halloween to be organised each year — you never disappoint by asking about said event!

🎃 Prompt list, FAQ & rules can be found bellow the line:

Prompt List

Friday 18 October — Bedtime story | Basement | Potion

Saturday 19 October — Claws | Whispers | “Follow me”

Sunday 20 October — Lies | Trick or treat | Zombies

Monday 21 October — Abandoned mansion | Scarecrow | “I don’t take orders from a cat”

Tuesday 22 October — Web | Cloak | Vampire

Wednesday 23 October — Spell book | Horns | “Stay still, or I’ll chop your hand off!”

Thursday 24 October — Candle | Wanderer | Shadow

Friday 25 October — Stars | Ruckus | “Say, weren’t you the one playing that creepy tune earlier?" "…I thought that was _you_.”

Saturday 26 October — Screams | Sacrifice | Poison

Sunday 27 October — Morbid curiosity | Wings | “Well, that’s a nifty spell!”

Monday 28 October — Summoning | Buried (alive) | Angel

Tuesday 29 October — Smile | Kingdom | “Are you speaking Latin?" "Why, aren’t _you_?”

Wednesday 30 October — Deal | Pumpkin (Spice Latte / Carving) | Demon

Thursday 31 October — Full Moon Party | Halloween | “Don’t mind them, they’re in the wardrobe.”

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝

FAQ & rules 2024

1. What must be included in the content of a filled prompt?

Stephen Strange (any version of him: film, TV, or comics etc.) must be either the main or co-main character. Otherwise, anything goes!

2. Can I still take part in the event even if I ship Stephen with someone?

Well, that can be a bit tricky, but generally — yes, you can. We’d prefer to not having Stephen or the other character(s) being there for the sole purpose of shipping, but we’re not against shipping during the event, as long as it all resolves to showing the story or whatever you come up with, that regardless of the dynamic or chosen relationship (platonic, romantic, familial etc.), in the end, it is about Doctor Stephen Strange.

An established relationship, first meeting, or getting together could be allowed if shipping isn’t the driving force behind writing a prompt (yes, of course you can be wanting to have them together, but the thing is — dig harder. Romantic content is a given within the fandom, but the fandom also needs General content! Or/and especially good whumping or angst, or a detective story, an unique AU etc. There are a lot of interesting prompts, so it’s a very good opportunity to try something new or different.

3. What must be included in the tags of posts?

Use the hashtag #strangehalloween2024. Add either into description or a tag the prompts you use (or both). On Tumblr, please include additional tags for NSFW (or NSFT meaning Not Safe For Tumblr) and common triggers (see AO3 for examples). The triggers apply to SFW works if necessary.

4. When can I post my prompt fill(s)?

In the spirit of the theme, these should be posted between 18–31 October 2024. Any strict rules don’t really exist, but we'd prefer if you post prompts the day they were chosen to be posted, e.g. one of the prompts from Saturday 26 October (Screams | Sacrifice | Poison) on said Saturday or after it if you're late, but not eatlier (not on Oct. 20). Don’t worry if you won’t be able to fulfil something on time, you can always participate even if fashionably late. We’d still add it to the ao3 collection or reblog on Tumblr if we see it.

5. Where on the discord server do I post my submissions?

In our gallery for the event in #strange-halloween. It’s for submitting your finished works. Even if it's fanfiction or something that would usually go into art channels, this event is an exception.

Reminder: said channel is not for casual talking, not even about the event, there’s a separate thread within the channel for that.

If your work happens to be NSFW, the usual rules apply: post those into NSFW channels. But if you want, you can write a message in #strange-halloween channel to tell others that you have created something, and point to the appropriate channel.

6. What medium can I use?

Anything! Written prose, poetry, gifsets, mood boards, artwork, playlists, you can even cook or bake something! Make a figurine, crochet something, do a scrapbooking thing, do a cosplay, make a board game, or a quiz. An app for a phone. A game, a collage. Anything goes. All it has to do is to follow the main rule of the event — being about Stephen Strange. No Stephen? No contribution in this one, sorry. So, all is acceptable as a prompt fill. It's all about Stephen Strange in any form he comes in.

7. Can I combine different prompts into one submission (e.g.: Wednesday 23 October Spell book | Horns | “Stay still, or I’ll chop your hand off!” + an earlier/later one) ?

Sure!

8. There are 3 prompts per day. Do I have to do it all?

No. You can do whichever one you want. But if you want to do all no one would be stopping you.

9. Can I use your prompt list with other prompt lists/bingo cards?

Absolutely! Combine it with any other event you'd like to do.

10. Are there any limits to how many prompts I can use/have to use?

Nope! Participate with one or all 42 items! Do as much as you'd like!

11. I’m a bit confused about some prompts; what are the brackets for?

The prompts that have a word in the brackets or also a slash within are the ones where you can be a bit creative (and cheat the system to have more prompts if you try enough), e.g.:

Monday 28 Oct — there's Buried as a prompt. You can use just that word or include the one in the brackets to have Buried alive. Technically, you could also try a different way and get rid of the first one and only have Alive.

Wednesday 30 Oct — we have the prompt Pumpkin so either use this singular word or use the suggested ones to get a Pumpkin Spice Latte, or another option which is Pumpkin Carving!

So, you can either completely omit the additionally suggested words or not. Have fun!

12. I’m not a native English speaker, can I make something in my native language or the one I'm trying to learn?

Of course, there are no limitations. The more, the merrier! Any contribution is valid.

🦇 🎃 👻 🦋 Any other questions? Feel free to send an ask to this tumblr. We can't wait to see what you come up with!

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝

Have a great spooky time! 🦋🎃🦋

[siflshonen]

when you say there is nothing of substance in regards to izuku, what exactly are you referring to? what would you have liked to see in the ending between bakugo and izuku?

It actually has less to do with Katsuki and more to do with Izuku and everyone else.

I would have liked to see him talk more with All Might about life after all for one and the possibility of loss. I would have liked to explore the drama of Izuku being the last wielder a little more from a personal perspective. It seems like Katsuki did most of the work exploring how Izuku returning to quirkless life would be a big adjustment.

I would have liked to see Izuku grapple more with understanding that while Shigaraki is someone he wanted to save, he also hated him. I would have liked to see him realize that besides just saving Shigaraki, he might have to spare a thought about what might happen next even if it didn’t happen. Ochako did, even in passing.

I would have liked to see more emotional impact regarding Izuku having the epiphany that he wants to save someone who has wronged him in a permanent way that matters. That wasn’t Katsuki, but Shigaraki/All for One, who have put Katsuki in jeopardy three times and Toshinori in the same position at least twice when Izuku was present. We go through this briefly, but it’s more like watching it go by as something we’re meant to expect rather than something we explore.

I would have liked to see Izuku, Ochako (with Ochako lurking on the sidelines and keeping her thoughts to herself a little, just as she was), AND Shoto discussing the very real possibility that the people they might try to save will die, and the public WILL try to martyr them a la Curious to Himiko, and they WILL have to discuss their actions. In the epilogue it seems Ochako has found a way to talk about Himiko with the public without talking about Himiko directly, which is its own thing, but I would like to see Izuku actually try to handle the consequences of his sudden fame since it is directly affected to what Heroes (career Heroes) value and strive for.

Katsuki, I think, also has an opportunity to act as a counterpoint because he killed his opponent and it was never some deep, emotional debate. I wouldn’t expect it to give Katsuki any existential angst, because I feel like it would be absurd if he OR the public gave TWO SHITS about whether All for One lived or died, but he and Izuku did enact two differing functions and methods of Pro Heroing that have to be discussed. Izuku can feel however he likes about his role in Shigaraki’s death, but he should also recognize that the people around him and that he respects and love did arrive with the intention to kill, and even that Katsuki put himself in that position SO IZUKU DID NOT HAVE TO HANDLE IT.

I would have liked to see Izuku questioning, at many points throughout the series, what it is exactly a pro Hero does and what they protect and value before he thinks about extending that nebulous definition to include trying to save Shigaraki Tomura. I don’t even necessarily want him to have to try and fix it in the story, but I would like for him to identify it beyond being “kinda weird”. From Ochako’s comments on finding Himiko a potential heroic purpose (meaning, the fact that she knows saving Himiko must be justified to the public to have some kind of purpose, or even that it COULD be) I think she understands what she is grappling with much better than Izuku does.

I don’t mind or disagree with him being a teacher, but I don’t get the sense how helping pro Hero students, who still have to be incredibly powerful to qualify for the career, apparently, makes him heroic. What the hell is he teaching them if I’m not convinced he learned much besides the taste of failure in his own heroic story?

I’d like for Izuku Midoriya to have more going for him as an individual character with a more extreme internal monologue and desires with fears, doubts, and explored resolutions to any of these things. He has them at the start, but by the end I personally don’t find them interesting or or well explored, and he does not connect with me.

And, yes, as a cherry on top, I do wish he had the balls to tell Kacchan that he has value in his life as something besides a rival. He can smile and have his shiny eyes all he likes and let it be implied or self-evident all he likes, but I would like for him to acknowledge it instead of always being a recipient. It was pretty gratifying to see him take the time to go speak with Ochako and tell her how heroic she is, finally, now at the end, but it would be nice if he did that for Toshinori, his mom, Katsuki, or a slew of other characters who have always saved him, helped him, or held their feelings inside for the sake of him or others.

While he uses stupid machismo and yelling, Katsuki has hidden his true feelings a lot not just as a shield for his fragile ego in the second half, but to keep Izuku from worrying. So nice of you to notice, Izuku.

[eisforeidolon]

Sure, the premise of the poll itself is hilarious enough, thinking that after everything they'd been through, Sam accidentally (let alone on purpose) offing Castiel would have any lasting, substantive effect on the Winchesters' relationship [X]. But it's some of the comments that really got me as a fascinating window into just how skewed all the bizarre projective meta desperately trying to create a storyline that doesn't exist has left heller memories of the show.

Times Dean legit offered to kill Sam just for Cass: 0 vs. Times Dean offered he and Sam would try to kill each other for the resurrection of the entire rest of the world which included Cass: 1

Times Dean committed/tried to commit suicide over Cass: 0 vs. Times Dean threw his life away/gave up on life/committed suicide/threatened to commit suicide over Sam: at least 3 vs. Times Dean put himself directly in unnecessary mortal danger/committed temporary suicide for VoTW: at least 2

Times Dean killed someone Sam cared about or got someone Sam cared about killed and it didn't fundamentally change their relationship after the plot arc ran its couse: 2

Times Dean killed someone he cared about for Sam: 1

Times Sam was blamed for getting someone Dean cared about killed while Dean had the KILLYOURBROTHER murder mark of rage and it didn't "heavily damage" their relationship: 1

Like, writing six thousand tons of meta does not actually make Dean's lip service "best friendship" with Castiel his first priority in canon, let alone make him in lurve with Castiel, and certainly not to the point of wanting to die without him. It does not make temporarily killing himself explicitly to talk to ghosts with the stated intention of being right back about Castiel. It does not make the recklessness inherent in that decision magically unrelated to Mary being sucked into an alternate universe and probably killed by Lucifer, Jack's unpredictability and powers, as well as Crowley's sacrificial death for them. Seriously, the amount of scenes angsting about all the other things in that stretch to pretend it's some kind of ~*widower arc*~ about Castiel's death alone is fucking hilariously massive. It does not make his getting killed by monsters suicide, any more than literally every hunt they ever went on was an attempted suicide. Dean is depressed and reckless when the whole world is gone to shit and there's another looming apocalyptic event and Castiel is also dead ... wow, he must lurve Castiel! No, don't you dare remind me of the interlude in the finale where literally nothing else is wrong and he's clearly happy despite Castiel being dead, lalalala can't hear you! Or how much fun he was clearly having at that wrestling match immediately after finding out Castiel was possessed! Or or or. I'm not even going to touch the assertion Dean's relationships to Sam and Jack are fundamentally similar, because ... I can't.

TLDR; no amount of credulous, blinkered meta and reinterpretation alters that the canon directly shows over and over again ...

Times Dean chose Castiel over Sam: 0

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Four (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genre: a LOT of angst, some smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list). 

Author’s note: Ooh I really hope you enjoy this one! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. I so love to hear your feedback and chat more about this story! ILY :-*

Word count: 5.3k for this part. 

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

The rest of the evening passes in much the same way as the rest. You rejoin the group out front, Benny injecting some much needed fresh energy into the pack. He regales you all with tales of his most recent fights, delivers excruciating detail about his latest training regimen, and proudly shows off pictures of his new puppy. 

“Why am I looking at a picture of you, Miller,” Frankie jests as he holds up the screen to reveal an adorable golden retriever. 

If anyone notices that Santiago seems quieter than he had earlier in the night, they don’t say it. If they realise that you are engaging in very purposeful, overblown interest in Benny’s chat, it doesn’t get called out. There are a few exchanges between the two of you and Santiago that simulate old patterns. Lend weight to the pretence that things could even return to normal between you and him, given a little more time. 

Still, every time your eyes glance off of one another there is this intolerable heat, and you find you still can’t meet it head on. At times, your gaze is dropped hastily into the sand. At times, your eyes needle Frankie pointedly so that he might come to your aid, even if he does simply shrug and clasp the neck of his bottle a little more tightly. 

You know Santiago. And in a sense, contradictory as it may be, the hardest thing is how easy it would be to fall into your old patterns. Eventually, you begin to wonder if this tension and this awkwardness -this disconnect – is simply manufactured, in a way. Your heart’s tactic to keep him at arm’s length. A defence mechanism, because you ran away from a whole continent and yet you still fear ending up right back where you started if you can’t extricate yourself from him. 

At some stage, you tire of the beer-addled chat, and especially of Tom. Even more so of the effort of trying to make everything feel normal, whilst at the same time fearing what might happen if you could actually achieve that. What it would mean. You announce to the group that you’re going to take a long soak in the tub, and you head upstairs to the main bathroom, languishing in the sweet-scented bubbles, and attempting to wash the burdens of the day from your body, along with the gathered sweat and sand and smoke. Of course, you seem entirely unable to scrub this urge humming beneath your skin. 

When you eventually emerge there is a hush over the house, a cocooning darkness in the hallways – and you realise that at least some of the group must have retired to bed already. You’re tired, sure; but you’re still a little buzzed and not sure that you could sleep yet. You certainly don’t like the thought of staring at the ceiling, thinking about who might be lying awake too on the other side of your wall. 

“Hey. Cat. Everyone gone to bed?” you ask Frankie softly as you see him round the stairs to the landing in his socked feet, his footsteps purposefully softened. 

“Yeah, chiquita.”

“Already? Such old men,” you snicker gently. “What the hell happened?” 

Frankie’s subdued throaty chuckle cuts pleasantly through the dark. “It was a long drive,” he defends playfully; then, his tone shifts, an injection of caution evident. It puts you on edge. “Pope’s still out there though, if that helps.” Frankie must feel you bristle, as he raises his palms in the air in surrender. Or, more than likely, absolving himself of any responsibility. “Do with that what you want.” 

“Mmm-kay,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, and, from the sidelong glance Frankie throws at you, you know he isn’t buying it for a second. 

“You two okay? Something happen in the kitchen?” 

A flare ignites under your skin. You remember a different kitchen entirely. Not the one downstairs. Instead, you recall the hot, close air of the Colombian night. The flash of cool metal against your flushed skin as Santiago pressed you back and-

“-It was fine,” you lie tersely, and before Frankie can wheedle anything further out of you, you quickly hook your arm around his neck for a distracting, albeit halfhearted, goodnight hug. “’Night, Cat. Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” With a grunt, he offers a quick, friendly kiss to your cheek, his scruff tickling up against you. 

“Yeah. G’night,” he returns, looking as tired as he probably feels. And, as you part ways in the hallway, Frankie watches with resigned interest at the fact you don’t similarly retreat to your room. That instead, you shuffle onward towards the mouth of the stairs. “Don’t let the Pope’s bite.” 

And then, with Frankie’s nonsensical and yet somehow apt warning ringing in your ears you head downstairs, meandering through the quiet house until you reach the exterior. 

You are arrested in the doorway at the thought of experiencing Santiago alone all over again, but at the same time, that is exactly the thought which propels your feet over the threshold and out into the balmy night air. 

You find him there, stretched out on his back in front of the dying embers of the fire, knees folded and pointed up to the sky. An orange glow is cast over the contours of his chest where his button-down shirt now falls completely open, the wire of his headphones snaking down and around his torso. He looks peaceful like this at first. Relaxed and loose, his chest rising and falling soporifically with his breath. His eyes are closed and he has his headphones in his ears, his fingers gently drumming and tapping where they rest against the softness of his bare stomach. Your eyes follow his happy trail, until the thatch of hair disappears beneath his shorts, now tugged tight over his thick thighs. 

You note the appealing cushioning around his middle forming rolls as he shifts marginally - to better prop his head up on a second cushion. He looks beautiful. Tranquil, at first glance. 

That is, until you see him tug in a huge breath, his ribs flaring with it. Until you watch him pinch the bridge of his nose before letting out a slow, sad exhale. 

You know in that moment that you should without a doubt turn around. That you should go right to bed, even if that does result in staring at the ceiling for hours with the image of his gorgeous body seared into your mind. But, you can’t do that. 

Instead, you already know exactly what you’re going to do. You’ve known since before you came downstairs. 

Truth be told, you’ve known since before you came to the beach house at all. You’ve known since your new fella asked you to be exclusive and you said “no”. You know, because you don’t know what’s good for you. 

“Santiago,” you say to announce yourself.  “Mind if I join you?” 

He pops a bud from his ear and opens his eyes. Somehow, he doesn’t even look surprised to see you standing there. 

He blinks at you wordlessly for a moment. He could say no, of course, but you know that he won’t. 

Because he doesn’t know what’s good for him either. 

He doesn’t respond to you at all in words. Instead, he rises, shifting to the corner of his tartan blanket, arranging himself cross-legged with a groan. He pats the opposite side invitingly, gesturing for you to join him. 

You hesitate. The setting, down on the sand on that measly square of wool, seems already far more intimate than the looming camp chairs had.

“Warmer down here,” Santiago encourages, as though reading your mind through how well he can read your body, evident tension snaking through your limbs. “Come and get comfy.” 

Okay. 

You hunker down, both legs folded to one side and your weight propped on the opposite arm. You take in the setting for a moment. The beach, shrouded in a blanket of dark. The sound of the waves shushing, and the gentle crackle of the fire. 

It would be calming, if the silence between the two of you wasn’t so taut. Still, you know Santiago will shortly reach to fill the silence. He always does. You don’t even have to wait all that long. 

“Good to see that Benny’s still… as Benny as ever.” 

“Yeah. Good to see some things never change.” You look at his lips. 

“His latest training regimen sounds pretty brutal, huh?“ 

“Uh huh.” Your eyes trail wantonly down his torso, and it’s not lost on you that he sucks his stomach in a little when your gaze drops to the soft rolls of him there. You’ve never seen a whiff of insecurity on the man before now. He’s confident as a rule - or so you thought. It’s appealing though, the softness of him. Sexy. You want to tell him that, but you don’t. Instead, you simply allow the soft smile to radiate over your face unfettered, your eyes warm and fond. 

“What are you listening to?” you nod down to his phone, headphones still strung from it and one bud remaining in his ear. Wordlessly, he passes you the spare bud and you slot it in, allowing the droning sounds to wash over you. Voices talking, and smatterings of financial and investment jargon. You quickly get the gist of it, and just as quickly relinquish the bud back to him. 

Your nose wrinkles. It’s not what you were expecting, honestly. “Financial podcasts?” 

He tilts his head to the side. Looks suddenly as old and mature and serious as you’ve ever seen him. “Gotta think about the future sometime, right?” He says it lightly, but even so, you are somewhat hurt by it. Hurt that he’s never managed to envisage any kind of future with you. 

“Right.” You nod, as neutrally as possible. 

He looks at your mouth. 

You note the brief fleet of pink tongue along the swell of his pillowy lower lip. 

You both let the silence hang there for a moment, full of possibility, and again, you know he will fill it. After all, you made it clear, right? You told him: don’t. Even if you want precisely what you asked him to deny you. “Did you see that documentary about the octopus on-”

“-I can’t get off anymore without thinking about you, Santi.” 

You interrupt him, and his jaw hangs slack for a moment, his eyes bugging out of his head as he fully registers your statement. Apparently, you don’t want to talk about Benny. Or podcasts. Or fucking octopi. You don’t want to fill the silence with meaningless chat. 

With Santiago, it had always meant something. You don’t want to stop that now. 

You let the words fall into his lap, and you aren’t even sure what reaction you were expecting. Therefore, you don’t even feel any particular type of way as you watch the multitude of emotions and stunted responses play out one by one across Santiago’s features. “Jesus, honey,” he eventually croaks. 

Then, his second-hand embarrassment finally jars you too. In a delayed flush of self-pity, you bury your face in your hands. “Fuck. How pathetic is that?” 

Santiago’s agape mouth finally closes then, a hard swallow bobbing down his corded neck. Your own self-deprecating laugh finally causes his face to split into a bemused and tentative grin. It is short-lived, however, his thick brows quickly drawing down. “You know. You’re giving me fucking whiplash over here, cariño.” 

“Shit. I know. I’m sorry. I just…” You tug your knees up to your chest for whatever comfort it can offer. “Honestly? I don’t want to talk about Benny, or whatever else. I love the guy but I… I missed you. I missed you and I just want us back. I want us to be okay, you know?” Santiago’s face twists in a mirror of your own, as if he doesn’t even know how possible that is anymore. “And, I don’t know how else to do that anymore – to make us okay - without… without that. I don’t know how to stop wanting you.” As you keep talking, your voice seems to break into a thousand pieces, as if sand in your throat is grinding it down, eroding the body and timbre of it away. “I try. I try, Santi, and it… I never…” 

Your name rises from his throat, and the sound is tired in his mouth. He knows what you’re asking him; and he doesn’t even seem surprised. “It’s a bad fucking idea.” 

“I know.” He’s not even wrong. “I know it is, but I… I don’t care anymore.” Emotion weighs down your tone. Makes it heavy. “It’s like a wound in me - the way we left it - and I just need…” Your eyes flicker and flit everywhere as you reach for the word, dancing around the scene, around his face, like the licking, greedy flames. 

You can’t find the word, the concept, the sentiment, but, as you search, Santiago’s voice filters through to you, certain and resigned. As though he understands perfectly what you crave after the wound that he left that night. “You need healing.” 

Your head whips towards him and you nod slowly, with conviction, searching his face for any sign that he might give it to you. For any sign that he might be able to repair you. He had hurt you, yes. But his fire was so hot that you think he is the only thing capable of cauterising the wound he left in his wake. The only one who can ignite you enough to heal you, as selfish and misguided as your desire may be. 

However, Santiago’s demeanour remains calm and cool even in the face of your desperation. You see only a vestige of desire dancing in his eyes now, as though all you had might truly be in the past. “You wanted out, remember?” he says thinly. With regret. He smiles even thinner than that. “No need to repeat your old mistakes, huh?” 

“I wanted out of that life, man. You were never a mistake.” 

“Heh. Don’t be so sure. If you know what’s good for you-“ 

Unconsciously, and with ill-timing, you shift on the mat in discomfort, rolling your spine to try and release some of the niggling, tight muscles – another old injury which continues to plague you long after the fact. 

“Still got that damn tweak?” Santiago asks, seemingly grateful for the diversion.  

You nod. “Mmm.” 

“Want my fingers?” 

You look into his eyes, mellow in the dancing light. How could you say no to that? “Please.”

“Come here then,” he encourages, shifting position to the edge of the porch step, his thighs spread wide apart and leaving space for you to settle on the sand before him. “Let me help you,” he insists, tipping up his chin, and his eyes softer and brighter again. 

You hesitate, but you can’t find it in you to decline the invitation. Can’t possibly find the strength to say no to his hands on you. To some relief, even in this form. “Turn around. Back to me, hermosa.” His voice is soft, so soft. Rough and undone around the edges like this frayed edge of land you perch on. 

You settle before him, and, just as he had promised, his fingers and his hands begin to inch over your body, on top of your clothes, seeking to unravel the knots. To bring you some relief. He used to do this for you all the time – always took care of you like this, and it’s bittersweet to recall a different, more innocent way his hands used to touch you. He would do this for you after training. After a mission. In the field. At the mouth of your tent when camped out in some desert or field or jungle. In the back of a Humvee on the way to the F.O.B.. At Benny’s fight nights when you’d had to sit in those shitty plastic chairs for too long. Whenever and wherever you needed it. 

His hands always knew how to fix you, long before you learned all the ways they could take you apart like a weapon in his palm. “Santiago,” you keen, as the pad of his thumb works into all your sweet spots. You don’t know what his name is in your mouth. A plea; a promise; a prayer; a poem. Perhaps all of these at once. 

“I know,” he soothes. “I know, cariño.” 

You close your eyes against the sudden tears you find threatening at the corners of your eyes. Knowing his touch again is everything you wanted, and, despite yourself, you are eminently glad it is happening like this. That he is giving, instead of devouring you, for if he did the latter, you don’t know that there would be anything left for him to take. 

His touch like this though, deft and tender, reveals that perhaps, there’s another way. That maybe, instead of burning you, Santiago could merely warm you. Maybe his flames only hurt because you had dared to get too close. Maybe you could simply learn to stay at arm’s length, where he had always attempted to keep you anyway. 

Still, that’s all very well, but… his touch - as it skims down your body - is enough to subsume you. It is a tide swallowing hot shores. It is a relief. A balm. Healing. 

“You’re so tight,” he complains gruffly, and you wonder if he is simply being careless, or whether his words were chosen ever so deliberately to remind you. To remind you of him praising you for that very same thing, under other circumstances. 

Regardless, Santiago shifts then, shuffling his hips closer towards you. His thighs -either side of your torso - boxing you in a little more tightly. Then, he braces one hand carefully against your shoulder, the other digging and kneading into your knotted muscles at the spot he always knew how to help you with. 

You moan for him, willingly, as he takes all your tension and melts it like butter. 

“Santiago,” you keen, and there it is again. A promise; a prayer; a poem. 

A plea. 

You hear him swallow thickly. Hear him exhale a sound like sea trapped in a seashell, his face dipped closer towards the shell of your ear in this new position. His breath continues to quicken as he manipulates your body, pliable under his sure hands, his warmth practically coiled around you like the fire around its fuel. 

“Do you want my fingers?” he repeats, voice now flecked with grit, even as he remains slow and languid, not whipped into any frenzy. “Tell me.” 

A stone plummets through your belly, sinking heat through your core at the mere suggestion he might touch you there too. 

“Mmmph,” you plead – a strangled affirmative wrung from your chest, and Santiago’s hand reaches around, calm and slow and tantalising. He winds his arms between your legs and his index finger trials along the seam of your shorts, up towards your clit like he’s following a carefully laid fuse line. Like he knows precisely how to detonate you, and all he needs is a spark. “You want my fingers here?” he purrs, and you moan his name, throwing your head back into the crook of his shoulder. “Want me to help you like this too?” 

You submit an unintelligible string of sounds to the air, which you hope he recognises as an affirmative. 

“Sssshhh,” he soothes, as his fingers deftly flick open the button of your shorts and you squirm in search of his friction. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you, cariño.” 

You sigh out a broken, guttural noise now, rolling your mound against his palm as his girthy fingers travel eagerly below the waistband of your clothing. Barrelling towards your want without dwelling on the implications even for a moment. On what this might mean. On what this may fix or further fracture. 

It is too much to think about that, and it is enough to know that you need some relief. 

Specifically, the kind of relief you have not been able to give yourself. The kind of relief you have not been able to find from elsewhere. The kind only Santiago knows how to give you. The only kind Santiago knows how to give you. 

“Fuck. You’re soaked,” he praises, all rusty-voice and practiced fingers, and with the ease that the thick pads of him glide through your folds you know it is true. “Holy shit, come here.” 

You would oblige if you were not so loose-limbed already; and so, in the next moment, Santiago is dragging you up towards him, settling your ass in the space before him on the porch step, so you sit a little higher. He is shucking your shorts and panties down and hooking your thighs over his parted, sturdy legs to spread you wide open. To give him better access to you so he can give you what you need. 

Your hands clamp down on his thighs like claws, your back flush against his chest and your head still languishing in the apex of his neck, feeling the steady rhythm in his shoulder as his arm reaches between your legs. With his other arm he simply gathers you up and holds you close to him, until the warmth of his skin seeps right through to yours. 

“Fuck! Santi,” you keen, voice ragged with need already as his fingers tease and circle where you need him. “More. Please, I need more.” 

He does not disappoint. He plunges a girthy finger into your heat, and the lack of resistance is telling, your cunt opened up and eager for him as the heel of his hand rocks a steady rhythm against your clit. He goes slower than you would like, but it turns out to be the exact pace you need -two fingers now- dragging molten heat through your core with each curl and pump and scissor he applies to your giving walls. 

“Ohhhh. Fuck!” 

“I know, baby. This is what you need, isn’t it? I know.” 

He does. He does know. He knows every damn inch of you and how to make you sing. 

“That’s it. I’ve got you. Don’t come, Princesa. Not yet.”

That’s easier said than done. Especially as his rough voice - all honey and grit - filters into the shell of your ear. As the fleck of his stubble rasps against your neck as he sucks an angry mark into your skin. Your core flutters in straight-out defiance of his orders then, and he feels you clamp down on him, tightening around his fingers. “Ah ah,” he scolds. “Hold on to it for me. Gonna get you there. Don’t worry. I got you.” 

Christ, you slosh around him as he makes you molten, and you feel his thighs begin to shake beneath yours. You feel his insistent hardness pressing at your back. “Fuck, princesa. I missed this pussy. Holy shit.” 

“Santi. I- I can’t hold on.” 

His thumb massages circles into your swollen, needy clit. 

“No, baby. Hold on for me. I know you can, huh? Don’t even think. Let me give you what you need.”

“Mmmphhh,” you moan out like a woman possessed as Santiago builds you up. 

He chuckles darkly into your neck, and smothers his spare palm over your mouth. “Shhhh. Quiet, hermosa. No-one else can take care of you like this, huh? I got you now.” 

The way he’s touching you, fingers speared inside your wet heat, is everything you’ve needed for so long. God, you’ve so needed him to help you like this. And now, he’s finally giving you relief. It’s welcome, and it’s good; but you still have enough about you, even in this state of becoming putty in his lap, to realise that he’s not giving you everything. You turn your head, tipping your lips wantonly up to him, but he won’t kiss you. His arousal presses insistently at your lower back but he isn’t making any move to get himself off. It seems obvious, even in this state of coming undone, that even as you lose yourself he won’t allow himself to get lost in you; not entirely. 

He’s navigated some extreme terrain in his time, but perhaps his feelings for you really are a jungle far too dense for him to navigate. 

Still, you certainly do not feel any lack, even if you get the sense he is holding back. It would be hard to feel any lack at all with his thick, warm fingers buried in you up to the knuckle, stroking and curling with precision against your swollen arousal, coaxing hoarse moans from your lips which he buries in the meat of his cupped palm. The pad of his thumb rubs haphazardly -almost roughly- in circles over your clit, puffy with need. Your thatch of hair is soaked, and your plumped folds are slick with your pearly, moonlit juices. 

“Holy fuck,” you rasp as Santiago’s  fingers draw a broad circle deep inside your walls, stretching you open and sending a delicious spiral of bliss through your core. He curls his fingers against your g spot, rocks his palm roughly against the mound of you, and God, it’s so good. You’re on the edge, but you still find you can’t quite let go. 

You don’t need him to give you everything, but you do need him to give you just a little more of what you’ve been craving. Just a little more healing. 

“Santiago,” you plead, tears of emotion and bliss and disbelief and sadness balling in your eyes. Relief at the fact you get to feel his touch again, and despair at how long you may next endure the lack of it. 

However, as though he senses what your body is telling him, that you are getting far too in your head by now to let go, you realise Santiago knows exactly what you need to get out of it. He always does. Always knows how to help you. “Mmpph,” you moan as he wraps his hand more tightly around your mouth and nose, playing with your air supply - just enough to provide a gentle thrill. To offer this simulation of a loss of control just long enough that you feel a secondary surge of adrenalin and arousal building within you. You gasp as he releases his palm and you suck his fingers easily into your mouth, wanting to feel full of him wherever you can. He obliges by shoving them deeper, over your tongue. 

“That’s it,” he praises, soothes, encourages, feeling it coming before you do, reading the signs in your body. Almost immediately, pleasure blooms out from your middle, completely engulfing you. 

You screw your eyes shut tight and you can barely even focus on his fingers pulsing in and out of your wet, suckering heat, or on this string in the middle of you being drawn so tight it’s about to snap. Instead you focus on him. On the warmth and sturdy form of him at your back. On the way he knows just how to touch you – where, and when, and how. The way he soothes you and relieves you. The familiar scratch of his stubble against your cheek. The soft, sweat-tacky rolls of his bare stomach cushioning your back, skin-on-skin where your t-shirt has ridden up your back. His meaty thighs. The familiar press of that hard promise up against you. But most of all his warm, sandy voice, slipping into the shell of your ear like the sounds and shushing of the sea. 

Hermosa. Cariño. Princesa. 

His words melting out of you like liquid pearls and making you shine. 

He praises you, and the sounds of him slip inside you just like his fingers, a smooth glide like the surge of the tide devouring an aching shore. His touch relieves the ache, the burn, the fire, the hurt, as you find your release. You gush over his hand, your mouth open with a hoarse, hollow moan, silently echoing the roar of the sea as your whole body becomes liquid on top of his. 

He holds you, and he works you through it, tears squeezed from your eyes with each wave of bursting, engulfing pleasure which radiates through your core – not blistering like the heat of your fire, but gentle and soothing. 

Your breath is ragged now. You have the feel of a tide between your legs.

You are sated, and yet you want more of him. You may feel healed in some ways, but your whole body still sings for him like a wound. 

He stays inside of you. Feels you for a moment, with a shuddered, satisfied moan you feel vibrate against your back before he draws his fingers out, painfully slow. You shudder too, your core still fluttering for him, and you would reach for him if you weren’t still boneless. Would seek to satisfy him too. 

“Fuck. I missed your fingers,” you purr. 

“Uh huh,” Santiago says, a little too morosely for your liking, and he unslots himself far too quickly from around your form. Far too quickly he comes to standing, leaving you feeling cold and alone on the porch stairs, shorts shunted down past your knees, exposing you to the night air. 

“Don’t you want… something for you?” you ask in confusion, in hope, eyeing the bulge tenting at his crotch and the way his hand is hung curled at his side, his fingers still shined from you. You enjoy all of that, but you certainly don’t enjoy the heaviness bedding down on his brow, and you reach to pull up your shorts as quickly as you can, the moment of relief fast-retreating, like the deceptive tide. 

“No,” he says firmly. “That was just for you.” 

You bristle at the implication in his words, your momentary bliss falling quickly away. 

He did you a favour. 

You were the one undone by your desire – your want. Not him. You were the needy one who couldn’t be without him. Couldn’t even get off without him. And damn. Here he is, slow and controlled and, for the better part, seemingly unaffected.

You know that’s not wholly true – that he does still want you, but your eyes still swim when you wonder if his desire is subdued compared to what it used to be. If it has lessened. 

Don’t you cause this frenzy in him anymore? This quickening, like he does with you? Is the flame burning in your chest -or your loins- not catching, any longer? Like the dying embers of this fire, is it almost out? 

Could there truly be an end to this? 

Soldiers. Friends. Lovers. 

What next? 

You had, at least, assumed something would be next. 

And so, as you regard him, stoic and impassive, you can barely even look at him. “You’re right, Pope. This was probably a bad fucking idea.” 

Of course it was. 

You should know better than to think you can take a piece of him without wanting to devour the whole. After all, you could never see him in fragments – only all at once. 

Had that always been your mistake, thinking that he could ever give himself over to you completely? He’s far too afraid of getting lost, even if he does hold the map to your heart in the palm of his hand. Strange then, because the palm of his hand is also where he has become so accustomed to yielding a weapon. Maybe for him, love and pain were always destined to feel the same.

You push past him, and you feel a pit open up in your middle. 

“Goodnight, buddy,” you say, your tone surprisingly sour so soon after that. “Thanks a bunch for the fingerfuck.” 

You guess the mindfuck came along for free.

You don’t want to hurt him. Don’t want to be bitter and to deepen this gulf between you all over again. But, apparently, you just can’t help yourself. 

You don’t know what’s good for you. 

[magneticallyyours]

Yo The Matrix!! I just started rewatching them for the first time in well over a decade. Didn’t even know there is a fourth (although apparently they recast someone which I’m not too excited for but we’ll see). Anyways, might I request an Agent Smith x Redpill!Reader where Smith doesn’t think she smells rotten like the rest of the matrix and it’s human occupants so he tries to catch her so she can’t escape back to the real world? She finds him unique from the other Agents but ultimately won’t surrender her freedom. She also has a sense of humor and enjoys the thrill of their cat-and-mouse chases. You can make it somewhat angsty if you like. Please and thank you!

𝗘𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 || Agent Smith x Reader

Summary: You're supposed to run from the monster in horror games. Even in movies. Yet why is Mouse.. running towards it? Towards him. She knows she shouldn't, but she does it anyway. The antidote mustn't be intrigued by the virus. But he is. What happens when you make bad decisions? You get bad outcomes. Wordcount: 1.4k

cw: Angst

The feeling drove him crazy. 

If it even was a feeling, that is. He wanted to tell himself that it was not one. It didn’t click into place the first few instances. But the more he lingered, the more he dwelled on it… It became painfully apparent. Just like the rest of them, she had some sort of a moniker. That didn’t seem to matter to Smith, as she was always ‘Mouse’, as he named her. Befitting, for she really was such a pest. A nuisance. Yet one he didn’t want to be rid of. Oh, no. He liked the thrill. He reveled in it, in fact. In this zoo of nothingness, this was the one thing he could truly relish in. Did he like the chase or the inevitable end? He wasn’t sure. Human beings disgusted him. She shouldn’t be any different, but she was. Somehow. That in and of itself was surprising. Annoying quips, cocky smirks and those god-awful jokes. But then there was the other side of it all. Times when her eyes shone with uncertainty, when her heart was hammering. Just barely slipping from his grasp. Those moments were all he craved. The terror in those irises, overpowering every other emotion.The mere knowledge that he was the reason behind it.. He simply could not get enough. He had to have more. 

Meanwhile, Mouse was faced with a different, less apparent dilemma. Her whole self identity wasn’t in question like it was for the agent. It was a lingering thought in the back of her mind, sure. Maybe an underestimation, but we’ll stick with that. For now. The Agents were her– Humanity’s, she corrected herself— Enemy. But then she kept running into them. This would’ve been fine, if she didn’t start suspecting most of those were purposeful. She wasn’t crazy enough to want to run into the agents, yeah right. Okay, maybe a part of her thought she indeed was that crazy. Or knew. But it just couldn’t be. She liked her freedom, her independence. The agents were the exact opposite. Mouse almost forgot she was supposed to be eating amidst all this. Alas, she was brought back to reality by her teammates’ chatter. Same old grey, nutritional slop for lunch. How lovely. 

Days seemed to occur on repeat. Same conversations, slop. More slop. More fictional than The Matrix itself, she scoffed at the thought. After a long time of doing things around Zion, they finally had something meaningful to do. The crew, including her, were going to be freeing another unfortunate soul from the matrix. The task went smoothly, much to their collective surprise. Mouse wanted to stay back, if only for a moment. Just to breathe in nonexistent air. To look at the scenery. As if. Really, she was waiting for something to happen. Anything. Stopping to smell the roses? More like being idiotic. More like wanting to see the very person you’re supposed to be running from, again. Smith couldn’t believe it. The sheer level of overconfidence and arrogance she must have– All that didn’t seem to matter, as he was here now. Chasing after her, like he always was. And maybe, just maybe, as he always will be. This was either dumb luck or misfortune, and she couldn’t decide which.

The rush from the chase was.. Unparalleled, as she hoped. Her boots clicking against the asphalt as she turned into an alley were loud enough to block out even her judgemental, concerned inner voice. She couldn’t afford to think now, something she should have done before taking this decision. Her team was safe. It was just her, wasting time. Putting it like that, it stung. It’ll be okay, she reassured herself. The telephone was not far at all. Room 409. A cakewalk. Or atleast, it would’ve been. Until a gunshot rang out, just missing her and hitting- You guessed it- The phone, instead. The sound of her hopes shattering to pieces. The black pieces of the receiver lay on the floor. Silence. It registered, after so long, that it was just him. Just… Smith. And Silence. She was convinced she would meet the same fate as the telephone receiver, but apparently.. Not? He stood there, lips pressed into a thin line. She could see herself in the reflection of his dark glasses. He took a step closer, she took a step back. His gun was holstered, now. His deft fingers instead moved to the rims of his glasses, pulling it off swiftly and pocketing it. His blue irises were definitely something to write home about, but instead she scoffed. 

“You do realize I could shoot you at any time-?” A useless jab. An idiotic one. But she knew there was no outcome in this where she came out alive. Wasn’t this what she wanted? The corner of the agent’s lip twitched. “I’m well aware, Mouse.” Another step closer, she was backed into the wall by now. A fair bit of distance separated them, but it felt impossibly close, nonetheless. “But you and I both know that you won’t.” There was just enough light in the hotel to illuminate his features. But not quite. His pupils were dilated. Devoid of feeling? She could tell that her assumption was wrong. “And why’s that?” She half laughed. What else was there to do? “You brought this upon yourself. You waited… For me.” Her silence was his answer as he took his final step, observing her expression like you would a specimen on a microscope. 

“You… puzzle me, little mouse.” That wasn’t something she expected. That glint in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place- It kept her on the edge. Uncertain. Thrilled. Her brain couldn’t come up with a fitting descriptor. He continued to speak. It wasn’t a question, after all. This was hardly a conversation. “I’m going to be honest with you. I… Hate, this place. This zoo. Whatever you want to call it. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand your kind. Your virus of a kind.” He paused for a moment. His gaze commanded her attention. “It’s the smell. If there is such a thing.I feel saturated by it.” Smith’s hand tilted her face up by the chin, his every movement analytical. “I can taste their stink, and every time I do I feel I have been infected by it. It’s repulsive. But not you. You.. are different, mouse. An anomaly. One I should eradicate… But perhaps one I should observe.” Her heart was hammering against her ribcage as sweat dribbled down her temple. What was he saying? Smith’s other hand pressed against her, where her heart would be. “Panicking? I thought you were above this, mouse.” He tsked. “What did you ever hope to achieve, I wonder,” He mused, smoothing his thumb over her cheek, “By waiting for me? Tell me.” Words were hard to form. Smith asked her the one question she dreaded asking herself. Why.  

Her reply was as predictable as the rest of her kind. “I don’t know.” He clicked his tongue at that, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Oh, but I think you do know. That is precisely what fascinates me. You are… a contradiction to your very existence. Is it an obsession? Or are you– truly maniacal, going against the fight or flight instinct that’s been driving you since you came into being? Pathetic… Only human beings could act in such a manner.” Smith scoffed. She wasn’t sure what to say. Her lips parted in astonishment. Terror. A mix of it all. “Nothing to say..?” He hummed. “That’s quite alright.” The agent leaned in just the smallest bit closer, making her heart soar. So close to- “You’re not going anywhere, Mouse. Wherever you manage to run off to, I’ll find you. Why, you’ll come running straight back to me. All because..” 

His gun was pressed to her temple now, and she damn near screamed.

Click. His lips were on hers, robotic in nature. Not because he wanted to, she didn’t think… Because he could. He knew this would last in the back of her mind for a while. Because he knew her, somehow. And she… almost didn’t mind. That was the worst part. The gun to her temple served as a reminder that this was not some fairytale. This was the culmination of her horrible life choices. The moment could have gone on for what felt like forever. There was a faint ring originating from one of the adjacent rooms. Wait.. a ring?

“Ah. There’s someone on the phone for you, Miss (L/N).”