#I go no not my boy:( then remember that other people are allowed to have opinions and also this is a Minecraft roleplay so we’re all losing

[harmonicakai]

This Is Me Trying

Part 3 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: Being friends with Huening Kai would be much simpler if he didn’t give you butterflies all the time.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing, reader is insecure, mentions of death

A/N: I made a Spotify playlist for this fic if anybody wants to give it a listen hehe <3

“Remember how I used to be so Stuck in one place, so cold? Feeling like my heart just froze Nowhere to go with no one, nobody” —Magic, TXT

When the weekend comes around, you’re worried that you’ve hallucinated the entire situation, but when Kai knocks on your front door, he looks good. Really good.

“I–I like your outfit,” you say, taking note of the details. “It’s different from how you usually dress.”

“Yeonjun helped me pick stuff out. He said you’d like this.” Kai spins, allowing you to take in the full ensemble. He’s ditched his usual skater boy attire for a button down, slacks, and a chocolate brown wool coat that matches the color of his eyes.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me,” you say, shaking your head.

“Of course I did. You’re the coolest looking person I know.” Has he always thought that? “I don’t know how you do it every day, though. We probably spent hours picking out just this one look.”

“Every Sunday, I plan my outfits for the week. Sometimes it takes the whole day if I’m not feeling too creative.”

“That sounds stressful.”

“It is.”

“Why do you do it, then? I mean, you always look good, but does it make you feel good?”

You blink back at him. Nobody has ever asked you anything like this. You have no idea how to respond.

Kai can tell that he’s struck a nerve. “Sorry. I just meant that if it stresses you out, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do it all the time. There’s a lot to like about you besides how you dress.”

“Right. Should we get going?” you ask, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan. Suddenly you feel overdressed.

“Let’s do it,” he smiles.

All you can think about on the walk over to the concert hall is whether or not this is a date. It feels like a date. He’s dressed like it’s one.

He said he wanted to be friends, you remind yourself. Still, when he accidentally drifts close to you and your shoulders brush, you can feel your face heat up.

You sit together on the steps of the concert hall, people watching and pointing out your favorite and least favorite outfits.

“I like her hat,” Kai says, pointing to a toddler walking hand in hand with her mom. She’s wearing a fluffy beanie with bear ears.

“Maybe I can convince the team to let you wear one on stage,” you think out loud. “It would be really cute for a concert.”

“That would be so awesome, Y/N! But I don’t want you to think about work right now. Let’s just have fun today.”

“I’m always thinking about work,” you admit. “I’ve thought about clothes every second of my life for what seems like forever now.”

“You aren’t that old,” he points out.

“I’m one year older than you,” you remind him. He skipped the birthday party that Yeonjun threw for you last winter.

“Okay, I take it back,” he surrenders. “You’re old and should look into retirement soon.”

You know he’s just joking, but you can’t help but think that he’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on what everybody is wearing all the time, yourself included. 

“Y/N,” Kai says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You jerk your head up.

“I used to play in an orchestra,” you blurt out, instantly regretting answering a question that was never asked. Still, you have Kai’s full attention, and the point of this is for the two of you to get to know each other. “I, uh, I played the viola, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“That’s so cool! I play the piano!” You already know that. Everybody does, but you appreciate how he seems to have forgotten that he’s world famous. “We should do a duet sometime! MOA would love it.”

“Uh, I’m not sure MOA would love seeing you with a girl,” you deflect. You’ve seen what dating scandals can do to someone’s career.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees. You watch the cogs inside his head spin before a lightbulb goes off. “Maybe we can set Taehyun up with a fake one on Academy Reincarnation and you can play in the background. ”

“That… actually sounds pretty funny.”

“Ooh, Y/N, thinks I’m funny,” he muses, before turning away to face the busy square. “Seoul! Y/N thinks I’m funny!”

“Shh!” you laugh, cupping your hand over his mouth. You are not mentally prepared to deal with any crazed fangirls tonight. “We have to go inside, now.”

Before you can overthink it, Kai grabs your hand and the two of you rush inside, greeted by marble floors and draped velvets. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” you sigh, taking the entire lobby in. “You know, I haven’t been here since I was a little girl. My mom would bring me here all the time. She played the piano like you. I always wanted to take after her, but I have trouble forming chords.”

“I can give you lessons, if you want,” he offers. “I have a keyboard in my room back at home.”

“I’d like that,” you smile back. You try not to read too much into being invited into his bedroom.

“Why don’t you and your mom go to concerts anymore?” Kai asks, hoping that it isn’t too personal a question. His anxiety grows exponentially as you take your time responding.

“She passed away when I was nine,” you say calmly. It doesn’t hurt you to tell people anymore. “I wanted to come because today is actually her birthday. My dad is really sensitive about it, though, so it was just going to be me. But I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Oh… Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.” He stares at his shoes, guilt written all over his face. “I could’ve made things more special for you.”

“Don’t worry, Kai. It already is special,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “My mom would probably be happy to see me coming here with someone who loves the piano just as much as she did.” 

His face relaxes again, and he does very little to stop himself from grinning ear to ear.

After you take your seats in the back of the balcony and the lights begin to dim, a strange sense of calm overtakes you. 

Despite being in a crowd of strangers, sitting next to Kai in the dark and listening to the hum of strings as they warm up makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world.

Midway through the concert, you realize he’s still holding your hand. Maybe he’s like this with all of his friends, considering you’ve seen him and Soobin skipping down the halls hand in hand on multiple occasions. Still, you hope he never lets go.

—————-

Even though it’s technically your job, it’s a rare occasion where you actually get to dress the boys. Today, all hands are on deck for the filming of their upcoming album’s concept trailer.

“I can’t believe they’re making you wear a white sweater,” you sigh, holding up Kai’s outfit for the Dreamer sequence. “Everybody else gets such cute colors.”

“At least I get to stand out,” he grins, always looking on the bright side. He’s already got on his eyepatch, but it’s a little crooked. You walk over to fix it.

“Hold still,” you say, adjusting it into place and smoothing his hair down. “There we go.”

“Was I better this time?” he asks. You look up at him in confusion.

“What?” His face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath.

“I didn’t move this time. That night at the club,” he explains, “Well, you were telling me the story of when we first met. How I flinched and walked away and it hurt your feelings.”

“Oh. Yeah, you were much better this time.”

“I’m glad. I’ll try to be good for you, Y/N. I’m really sorry about before. I feel like I really wasted our time being so… weird. We could’ve been friends much earlier.”

“It’s okay, Kai, really,” you say, stepping back and handing him his sweater. 

“It’s not, Y/N. It was silly of me to be so nervous around you.”

“You were nervous?”

“I guess you don’t remember that part of the conversation either, huh?” he asks, pulling his t-shirt off. You’ve seen the rest of the group shirtless before, but Kai usually goes into the bathroom to change whenever you’re around. 

Your cheeks flush as you stare at his smooth skin and his broad shoulders.

“Uh, Y/N?” he says. While you were checking him out, Kai managed to get himself stuck. “I think my shirt is caught on my necklace. Can you help?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you say, working gently to untangle the fabric around his neck. You can feel how warm his chest is, reminding you of riding in the taxi on his lap. Eventually, you’re able to get him freed.

“Thank you,” Kai smiles. “I’m really glad you’re here. Everybody else is always rushing me.”

“I might get in trouble if you don’t hurry up, Hyuka.” You’ve never called him by a nickname before. It’s foreign to think about, but somehow rolls naturally off your tongue.

“Fine, okay, I’m ready,” he says, pulling the sweater on. The color actually compliments him really well. “Do you need to add any finishing touches?”

“Hmm, spin around,” you say, twirling your finger. Kai does his signature penguin stance and waddles in a circle, making you giggle. “No, you look cute.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve just said.

“You think I’m cute,” he smiles, doing a little happy dance. “Ooh, I’m the cutest boy in the world, huh?”

“Hey! I said you look cute,” you assert, crossing your arms in an attempt to play it off. He’s right, but you don’t want him to know that.

“Close enough,” he says, grabbing his crown off of the makeup table. “I should go. I’ll see you later. You’re the best!”

He pulls you into a hug, nearly lifting you off the ground. When you’re back on your feet, he presses a quick kiss to your cheek and leaves the dressing room. Yeonjun does it all the time, but it feels different coming from Kai.

Your hand moves to your cheek, lingering on the spot where his lips touched. Fuck. You might actually be falling for Huening Kai.

—————-

For the past two months, you and Kai have alternated picking out activities to do together. Last week, you taught him how to make banana bread. He almost set your apartment on fire.

Today, he’s invited you to his place to practice playing the piano.

You’re more nervous than you need to be. It’s your first time in his bedroom, but it’s completely innocent.

Except when you’re sitting on the piano bench together, knees and shoulders pressed against each other, and he’s got his hands placed over yours to help guide you, you feel butterflies in your stomach. That’s not how people who are just friends feel.

You’ve come too far to throw it all away over a stupid crush. He’s simply much too out of your league. Still, while he’s busy explaining chord progressions, you’re staring at how long his eyelashes are and how cute he looks when he’s wearing his glasses.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kai asks, pouting. “I thought you wanted to learn, Y/N!”

“I do!” you lie. “I am very interested in what you’re saying right now.”

“What did I even say?” He crosses his arms and furrows his brow in fake anger.

“Um…” you start. You know you’ve been caught. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

His face shifts to worry. “Is something wrong?”

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s keep going,” you say, flipping through his binder of sheet music. “Oh, I love this song!”

You had never expected him to have the piano score to Night Changes by One Direction, but you aren’t complaining. In a way, TXT’s dynamic reminds you a lot of the long gone boy group. 

“This song is kind of like us,” he notes. You shoot him a confused look. It’s a love song, after all.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your palms now sweaty. 

“I just think it’s kind of crazy how things changed between us.” That’s not really what the song is about, but you’re not going to tell him that. “I’m glad we’re friends now.”

“Oh, yeah, super crazy,” you say, exhaling. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”

“Y/N?” he asks, his face close to yours. Is he about to do what you think he is?

“Yes?”

“You have an eyelash on your face.” He brushes a finger across your cheek and holds up the lost lash with a smile. “Make a wish.”

You blow it away, vowing to never let him know that what you asked for was him. 

“I have to tell you something,” you confess. “I don’t actually want to learn how to play the piano. I’d rather just listen to you play.”

“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised. “I can do that. Should I serenade you, too, m’lady?”

“Yes, please,” you giggle. His goofy side is such a nice departure from the gloomy, quiet Kai you were used to.

You’ve heard this song probably hundreds of times, but Kai’s version feels brand new. As you watch his fingers dance across the keys and listen to his soft voice, the lyrics begin to seem like they were written just for the two of you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#hueningkai x reader #hueningkai #huening txt #txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt fic #txt hyuka #hyuka x reader #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt angst #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai imagines

[lgbtmi]

high council of vtm blogs who follow me: i need your help for Reasons i am cooking a new vampire in my brain, and now i have not one, but four ideas and i need help picking a guy.

any feedback or commentary is allowed, but if you have a fav, feel free to vote for them under the cut <3

1 - tzimisce. presumed to be a gangrel and thus fits into nightlife semi-normally, who's gonna notice they're slightly… off… right? runs an airbnb with a 'forbidden' basement, which also serves as their haven. idk, i've not gotten much further than 'haha tzimisce except everyone thinks it's a gangrel because bOY do i love vampires posing as a different clan u feel?

2 - hecata. this is very much built around the clan compulsion. they were a true crime youtuber before their embrace, and one day just stopped uploading videos. their fanbase is split - most think they just stopped enjoying youtube, but there are two camps who either A) think they were murdered or B) faked their own death. regardless, both these camps discuss the case on reddit and turn molehills into mountains - grasping at straws in an attempt to solve the case. the hecata themself is unsure of what happened to them, the memories are fuzzy, and sometimes they think they remember and actively get on the message boards under a fake account in an attempt to solve their own death also

3 - ministry. basically gossip girl. used to run a blog in high school where they'd spread creative rumours about people, and when they were embraced, they fell right back into that. their sire indicated that most vampires don't take too kindly to the internet, though, so instead they every so often go on rumour runs, where they deliver handwritten notes to high ranking vampires with either rumours about other vampires, or thinly veiled threats along the lines of 'i know what you did to [blank] a few nights back :D'

4 - caitiff. by all means, they should have been a nosferatu. they were embraced by a nosferatu after successfully hacking into personal records database to get around having to formally change their gender marker and name on their records. something went wrong, though, and the clan curse didn't fully take, which now leaves them without a home or a family to get back to. are police now after them for hacking the government? it's more likely than you think, but hey, it's not like they lived to tell the tale :3

[crow-in-springtime]

Horatio in one of those stories where the main character does anything and everything to prevent the death of a loved one.

I just think it would be neat

#me when other people write Horatio being in pain: HOW could you DO THAT to him?! HAS HE NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH 😭😣☹️ #me when I write Horatio being in pain: Teehee 🤭 #sometimes you just gotta break time and space and all of natural law just to be with someone you love #and I know the lesson is always supposed to be “you have to let people go but that doesn’t mean everything is over” #but fuck that I think Horatio could successfully pull it off #autism be damned my boy can love someone so much that he will hold off death itself #<- it was funnier in my head #hamlet #horatio #there’s probably a specific name for this but I can’t remember it at the moment. kinda like wandavision or alice by heart #“I won’t let them move you on / play you like some ghostly pawn / oh we’ll hold the still blue dawn” that sort of thing #well I wouldn’t want Horatio to succeed actually cause then it defeats the whole purpose of the trope as a whole and also I like suffering. #but like you understand. I think. I kinda lost track of what I was saying 7 sentences ago. #“yeah this sounds good post it” someone who should not be allowed internet access after 10 pm or before 7:30 am (me) #god this has been in my drafts for ages and I’ve forgotten what I even meant but I’m sure it was a good coherent idea at one point #ky’s gallery

[the-busy-ghost]

Me: Ah nice I'll just have a little nap and then get on with my reading

My brain, an hour and a half later: 'Now let's go back and talk further about George Kirrin...'

#Does everyone go through the *sits bolt upright in bed after a sudden realisation about George* experience #I haven't even read those books since I was a kid #I do NOT have the time to reread them nor the copious number of essays that I am sure have been written about George #But my takeaway is from- what I remember- #George was not your regular 'tomboy' in fiction; like whatever was going on there #I don't think George can be held up as the archetype of literary tomboys #There were extra layers on top of the traditional 'tomboy' depiction #Like I'm pretty sure I remember George getting more annoyed that people didn't mistake her for a boy #Than being shut out from things because she was a girl #I may be misremembering but every other tomboy character I remember wanted to be mistaken for a boy #so she would be allowed to do the fun adventure things that boys got to do #Whereas George seemed as interested in doing the fun adventure things BECAUSE that was what boys did #Also I'm pretty sure there was one scene where she's annoyed with another female character #Not because they're doing 'silly' girly things but because they're better at passing for a boy than she is #Anyway it's just that even with the most tomboy literary characters I don't remember any of them ever being explicitly described #as wanting - not to be treated as a boy- but to BE a boy full stop #However I have not read these books in about eighteen years now so I may be waaaay off #And it's a bit annoying I don't have time to go back and reread #Especially because otherwise the Famous Five books are perhaps PEAK 1950s British middle class stereotyping #And also explains some parts of my childhood- I didn't entirely identify with George but she was definitely a revelation #Also because the other literary tomboys were like Cool and Tough and managed to conform to an ideal of femininity and masculinity at once #But George CRIED #As an overly emotional child who felt- and still feels- that crying often invalidates my argument or identity #That's kind of interesting #George could be a little messy! But she was a child and it still wasn't fair to put her back in a box because of it! #She's an Imperfect Tomboy and as a kid reading it she could be a disappointment but rereading as an adult I think it would seem more real #ANYWAY that's enough of that for tonight #(Also on the literary tomboy front- surely more could be written about Bill from Malory Towers but that's for another time)

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

I'll Do Anything You Tell Me To - LN

Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Lando's girlfriend features on his stream, but everyone can see there's something off about it. Not that Lando cares what other people say. Y/n will do anything he tells her to do.

Themes/warning: Manipulation, slightly forceful pushing out of comfort zones, semi-public sex(does live stream count if the watchers don't really know), cockwarming (my fave;)), controlling behaviour, HANDS HANDS HANDS (big theme, love Lando's hands and letting my imagination run wild with uses for them), mean!Lando

"Y/n, baby!" Lando calls making her curse pulling on a t-shirt as the minimum of clothing.

"What-"

"Ah, no. Jesus, y/n. The cameras on." Lando states shooting forward with his hand pushing on her stomach to make sure she's not at risk of being caught on frame.

"S-Sorry." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh. "Is the mic on?"

"No." Lando frowns making her nod as his hand slide down teasing between her legs making her refrain from allowing herself to shiver under his touch. "Did you just come out the shower?"

"Yeah." Y/n nods then biting her lip a little while Lando hums lightly. "Lando, you live."

"Join me?"

"The camera." Y/n murmurs making him hum but his eyes take a darker glint.

"I'll just turn it off for game play. I'm on with the boys at the moment." Lando shrugs earning a small nod.

There's few things that Lando loves more than how blindly obedient y/n is. Even if she looks uncomfortable, she'll do what Lando wants to keep him happy. He could hope for a girlfriend better than her.

"Wait here a second."

Y/n nods watching Lando slide back into frame, only using one hand before he reaches up to turn the camera. As if making sure that there is no chance at the camera capturing what he's about to do.

"Come here." Lando instructs making her move to sit on his lap, him hooking her legs over his own and managing to get his headphones back on. "You gotta be quiet baby. Mic is gonna be on."

Y/n nods shuddering feeling his breath hit her neck as she feels his fingers slide into her with a shameless ease that makes her shiver again.

"I want you to get yourself off, baby." Lando states giving her g-spot a gentle nudge which makes her swallow thickly. Y/n bites her lip, chewing on it as he turns the mic on.

Y/n is aware that Lando likes to play these games, it's a big part of their relationship. She won't be allowed to leave or get up from his lap until she's done as she's told.

Best method is to make it as quick as possible. She begins rocking herself back and forth on his fingers, feeling her pulse begin to beat around her body. Lando hasn't even started the next game because everyone is bickering, including him. Though heat is just completely coursing through her from his touch.

Y/n is really locking her jaw trying to keep herself quiet. Her body feeling so on the edge.

"That's it." Lando whispers knowing that his mic won't pick it up.

Y/n keeps going refraining herself from panting like she wants, keeps going till she feels herself soak Lando's already wet hand, almost dropping down.

"Alright, boys when are we actually getting on with this?" Lando asks kicking off another argument and as the others blame each other for the delay, Lando flicks off his mic. "Climb on me baby. I wanna feel you."

"The chat knows though." Y/n mumbles nervously having read the chat as she had slumped back against him. "Lando-"

"I don't remember asking baby." Lando cuts in. "Are you saying no?"

"But-"

"That's a no then. Alright, you can clean up-"

"No. I don't want to go." Y/n frowns hating that he's managed to corner her into insisting she do as he wants.

Y/n moves managing to shift and pull his dick out before he pulls her against himself maybe a little faster than she would've done herself but the game is starting.

He manages to grab some tissues to quickly cleaning his hand as he turns on his mic again. Y/n doesn't hate being here with Lando while he plays, but she hates the fact it does actually have such an effect on her.

Her eyes are trained on his hands, his hand that was actually in her only a few minutes ago still has visible residue on his skin. If Lando couldn't already tell, the pulse she can feel beating and squeezing around Lando's dick was giving her away just how turned on she is.

The pressure of him filling her as she looks at his hands, she's in a daze of edging closer to another orgasm without even meaning to and while Lando is trying to focus on the game. There's only so much he can block out. Y/n getting off using him again.

He can't even stop himself from getting to some quiet spot in the game and quickly muting the mic again, his hand catching her throat as she tips forward spasming and clenching around him as a moan escapes her.

"Enjoying yourself?" Lando questions then cursing as he finds himself shot. Deciding to make the most of it, he decides to go for another orgasm from her seeing just what she'll take.

"Lando!" Y/n yells out feeling him pinch at her clit. She really wasn't finished with her orgasm but the oversensitivity makes her almost closer her legs on his hand but his free hand keeps at least one of her legs from closing the space.

"What? You were just fine getting yourself off using me. I'm just helping you do it again." Lando states making her whine. "You're going to let me help?"

"Mmm...yes." Y/n murmurs, struggling to make her mouth form proper words.

Lando can hear voices in his ears but they're thankfully just assuming he's disappeared for some reason or another since he's dead anyway.

The third orgasm hits her in a rush of heat, burning through her whole body. she's almost certain she'd fall on the floor if it wasn't for Lando keeping himself very much buried deep inside of her. If she didn't feel so completely focused on herself, she might wonder how the hell she hasn't triggered him into an orgasm.

"Fucking hell, y/n." Lando chuckles then smirking as an idea hits him. "Get up baby. We both need to clean up a little."

Y/n manages to get up with wobbly legs, him holding his hand out to support her weight for a moment as he unmutes himself.

"Hey, boys. I'm just helping y/n with something. I'll be a few more minutes." Lando states into the mic while y/n latches onto his hand tightly feeling herself struggle with her balance.

Lando definitely rushes a clean up for them both and before y/n knows it, he's setting up to camera to look at the two of them again.

By the time Lando pulls y/n down to straddle him, sliding down on his length he decides he's not going to be able to control himself anymore.

"Fuck." Lando mutters lifting her and controlling a pretty brutal pace, which give she's only just got out her daze of 3 orgasms deep. It takes almost just the hit of his breath on her neck as he practically slams her down on himself before groaning the feeling of his orgasms sending her tumbling into her own.

Neither have ever been quiet or very vanilla in their sex lives with each other. But 4 orgasms within the span of less than an hour has completely ruined her and she really didn't even want to do it with the mic and camera so close.

"Don't you dare." Lando grumbles keeping her locked down in place when she makes an admittedly weak attempt at getting off of him.

"I don't want to be on camera like this." Y/n murmurs very hyper aware that she's very much naked from the waist down.

"You'll be fine, it's not in frame." Lando mutters while moving them forward towards the desk. He pulls his headphones on and turns on the mic. "Alright chat you can shut up now. I'm back. Y/n's isn't feeling well so she's here too."

He clicks to turn the camera.

Y/n refrains from sighing and instead just nuzzles her face into his neck, she's pretty much fucked out and isn't overly happy about being stuck there with him still inside her.

-

Online fans are definitely suspecting something with Lando and y/n. Comments and clips from the stream saying body language and the way Lando wouldn't speak to y/n without muting his mic or covering his mouth so they couldn't even read his lips.

Y/n also didn't look very impressed.

Lando has chosen not to address it. But he's pushed y/n into addressing it online.

"Is that ok?" Y/n mumbles handing her phone to Lando as they sit in the car on the way to the paddock.

Lando takes her phone with a small frown read over the little paragraph she's posting on her story.

"Yeah, that's good." Lando nods then smiling and kissing her cheek. "Thank you for doing this."

Not exactly like he gave her much of a choice, but if it makes him happy then she'll do anything for him. Including tell his fans that the stream was nothing to be concerned about and that there has never been anything that Lando has done which should ever make them concerned for her. Along with telling them that a relationship that so rarely actually gets shown to the public is not shown enough for them to make assumptions and calls on.

"It's just the truth. They're being stupid." Y/n mumbles making the McLaren driver smile, his hand coming up to gently hold her neck pulling her into a heavy kiss.

By the time they get to the paddock, Lando's possessiveness leaves him almost ignoring fans on the way in and while walking through the paddock once they've past the security gate.

Dark fic Taglist: @hiireadstuff @ellienorriss @decafmickey @daemyratwst @flowersonstreets @bethanymccauley @randomnessis-mine-me @sunf1ower16 @rylie-lothbrok @cixrosie @8justme @jehun @scopeiguess @bborra @poppyflower-22 @noneofyourfbusinessworld @igotnorrrizz @unknownmystery22 @nirrahbrii @sbella13 @d3kstar @neilakk @kawaiisadoglu @a-moment-captured @aeri101 @st4rshine @meadhbhcavanagh @molten-m122 @charizznorizz @simpingcorner @bubbleswrld @gisellesprettylies @urfavsgf @landogirly27

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #dark!lando norris #dark!fic #dark!f1 #dark lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #ln4 one shot #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 smut #ln4 x you #lando norris f1 #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1

[envy-of-the-apple]

The Earth Kills the Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 6.3k

Part two of The Sun Eats the Moon

Synopsis: A retelling of The Sun Eats the Moon in Suguru's perspective

(Warnings: forced relationships, bullying, non con touching, non con kissing)

Suguru liked you. 

It wasn't even a crush. A passing interest, maybe. You were pretty. You had a nice smile. Though, he'd never directly spoken to you, he could tell that you were kind. Not in the artificial cherry most people were. Natural, like honey, never spoiling. You share the same homeroom as Satoru, and he'd always tended to be observant, unlike his friend. One thing he liked about you was how observant you were. You were constantly looking out for your friends, mere acquaintances, and everyone in your vicinity. Often, Suguru wondered if being a people-pleaser was natural or from a fear of not fitting in. 

Suguru is observant. He notices the lingering gaze Satoru gives you when you walk away, hurrying to catch up with the rest of your friends. Satoru then turns back to the carton of chocolate milk you'd left him.

"Cute," Satoru says after a minute. It's more of an afterthought than anything. He pops the carton open. Suguru hears the fabric tear. He hums in agreement. The topic switches to something else, a hot celebrity maybe? Suguru can't remember. That day had been so insignificant to him. It hadn’t mattered to him for Suguru to remember anything further.

A few days later, Suguru noticed Satoru was spending a lot more time with you. 

It was hard not to notice, actually. His friend attached himself to you like he'd die if he couldn’t. Satoru went everywhere with you now. Suguru caught him walking you from school, offering you rides in his new car, following you to the lunch hall. And if he couldn’t go to where you were, he’d drag you back to him. Watching you and Satoru was a bit like watching two magnets. North pole and South pole. So different, yet constantly finding the other. 

“Tryna’ run away from me, now?” Satoru asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he watches you fiddle with your bag.

You laugh, continuing to fish out your lunch box. “Just grabbing lunch.” 

“Eat with us,” Satoru insists, “we found a great spot up at the rooftop.” 

You meet Suguru’s gaze just then. He’d been silently lounging on a nearby desk, observing the two of you. He gives a smile. You return it. Polite. He wonders if your mother taught you to smile like that.

“I thought students weren’t allowed up there?” You ask Satoru. 

The boy rolls his eyes. “So, who cares? It’ll be fun.” 

You pause, right then. The tiniest of hesitation. Suguru wonders if you’re noticing just how different you and Satoru were. You, the people pleaser, meek, always more than willing to bend towards authority. Satoru was rougher, more resilient, uncaring of signs and rules. The gap between the two of you is astronomical. Could you feel it as well?

Whatever you’re thinking, it’s gone in a moment. You rise, giving Satoru another laugh. To Suguru, it sounds pretty. 

“Well, have fun for me. Besides, I can’t ditch my friends. They’re waiting for me.” 

With that, you give both him and Satoru a tiny wave, before disappearing out of the classroom. Suguru waves back. Satoru doesn’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes on your back until he can’t see you anymore. 

“Got ditched again, hm?” Suguru teases. Satoru only groans, tossing his head back as he leans dangerously on the chair.

“Always leavin’ me for ‘em, too,” he complains, “so fuckin’ annoyin’.”

Suguru can only smile, getting up to follow his friend out the door. He can barely count how many times he’d seen this before, each with a different person. It starts the same. Satoru will cling onto you for a couple more days, and then ask you out. When you say yes, he’d date you for a few weeks before eventually getting bored and dumping you. 

It’s a cruel cycle, something that’s just an inevitability with Gojo Satoru. The boy can’t stay in one place, he’s constantly moving around, never one to stop. For Satoru, Suguru was the most permanent thing in his life. Which made sense, they were pretty similar in terms of ideals. 

A cruel cycle, and Suguru feels a tiny bit of sympathy for you. You were sweet, unlike the type Satoru typically went for. Honey. Natural. Truthfully, Suguru was a little disappointed as well. The type of disappointment he’d feel when someone took the last crab stick before he could. A fleeting feeling, one that ultimately wouldn’t matter. 

◉

From the day they first met, Suguru knew one thing: Gojo Satoru has never been told no before. 

It made sense. He was the only child to one of the most powerful families in the country. Spoiled from day one, some could say. Satoru grew up knowing nothing but wealth and prosperity. They met when they were both still in elementary school, still with high-pitched voices and large eyes. Suguru’s family was fairly affluent as well. Now that Suguru thinks back, perhaps their meeting had been orchestrated by meddling parents in order to form more connected. It didn’t matter, either way. It had benefitted all three parties, after all.

Yes, Suguru knew from the moment Satoru pointed at him and declared him his ‘best friend’, that Satoru had never been told no before. 

Satoru was the Sun. The universe revolved around him, catered to him. Suguru supposed he wasn't much better considering he too spoiled his best friend in that sense. They were different. They'd been born different, coming from families who cherish them with wealth and power. Suguru supposes it was natural for them to be so intertwined. Like calls for like. 

Suguru isn’t aware of the exact details, but he knows you rejected Satoru. 

The boy doesn’t have to tell him. His friend is uncharacteristically quiet during that weekend. He has no interest in the arcade, or the next basketball tournament his team is going to compete in. Satoru just sits on top of Suguru’s bed, casually sucking on a carton of chocolate milk. Suguru glanced down at the abandoned PlayStation remote. He’d lost yet another game against his dark-haired friend with no complaints. Satoru didn’t even play

You’d really done a number on him, Suguru thinks to himself. Suguru would assume it’s heartbreak, but he knows his friend better than that. Something burns in his chest, but he’s pushing it away before he can figure out why. Nipping it in the bud. It was a cruel thought. A bad one. He should ignore it.

Well, it’s done. It doesn’t matter anyway. Satoru would eventually get over it. He’s not known to sulk. 

He’s not there to see what Satoru tells them, but he’s there to see the effects. 

It starts out small. Or perhaps just not noticeable enough. Gojo Satoru has always attracted attention, whether it was satisfactory or not. Lackeys, Satoru often calls them because they're too far beneath him to even be called equals.

Suguru notices their sudden interest in you before even you can. A harsh word here and there. Giggling at the word 'easy'. You peacefully trek on, not noticing the abuse until it turns physical. That starts at the end of Monday. 

By Tuesday, they're already shoving you down each chance they get. You get surprised when it happens the first time, then the second, then the third. You have soft skin, plushy, Suguru could tell. He wondered if it was getting marked now. He wonders if you go home, peeling of your uniform, staring at the bruises of hands on your skin because you’re so fragile.

(They never go too far, not enough to completely injure. Suguru knows this because one time, one of the idiots had pushed you too hard. You’d stumbled, nearly hitting the back of your head with a metal locker. Satoru had seen. Suguru doesn’t know what Satoru did, but that particular one was gone the next time and the rest got the memo to scare, not injure.)

Satoru never takes part in this, but he keeps an eye on you sometimes. Tuesday evening comes and they both silently watch you through a window. You move through an empty hall, before they arrive again, slapping your binders out of your hands, chortling with each other. They're too far away to hear, but Suguru could bet it would sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Suguru watches his best friend. Satoru looks impassive, face blank as he stares down at your figure. Akin to a child watching ants burning through a magnifying glass, instilled with that innate desire to see them explode into ash. 

When the lackeys leave, you bend down on the floor, collecting your stuff. Your hair covers your eyes, so he can't see your expression, but he can see your shoulders tremble. Were you-

A corral of people run to you. They lean down, picking up the stuff you had missed. You look up, your eyes are shiny but you're laughing when they say something. You wipe at your eyes, standing up as they lead you out of the hallway. Suguru had seen them hanging out with you before. They all seemed like they supported each other, supported you. 

Suguru feels his frown deepen, conflicted. He doesn’t like it.

"It's not nice to pick on the weak, Satoru," he quietly says. 

Satoru's eyes trail your figure out the door. He gives a small hum.

By Wednesday, your friends disappear from your side. 

The abuse is getting worse, noticeable to the point where the rest of the student body is heavily avoiding you. Teachers won't raise a finger at what's happening. As much as they like to preach about their 'zero tolerance for bullying', Suguru knows they'll willingly turn a blind eye when matters involve Gojo Satoru. No teacher wants to deal with the wrath the Gojo family is more than willing to unlease for the sake of their heir.

Yet, you aren't getting it. You don't break, don't bend. He can feel the humiliation roll off of you in waves, yet you don't react. Which was strange because he knew your archetype. A people-pleaser, constantly bending over backward for other's sake. You want nothing more than to become part of the crowd again, completely invisible. You’re community-oriented. You thrive off of companionship. This ostracization must be killing you. Suguru doesn't get it until he spots your face, just once, narrowed eyes, anger. 

Pride. He'd forgotten other people had that too. Though, Suguru admires it, a part of him knows it shouldn’t last.

Suguru thinks he does it because he pities you. You're a little naive. Suguru has your thought process figured out. You think if you take the torment long enough, Satoru would eventually just forget about you all together. Once he's done with you, you'd focus on picking up the pieces that used to be your life. It's not a bad plan, if you weren't dealing with Gojo Satoru. 

The boy is a hurricane. Fast, unrelenting, unforgiving. Satoru won't stop. He won't stop until you're ruined and broken. Turned into a mere asteroid of what you once were. 

So, Suguru decides to give you a push in the right direction. 

The students have already created a wide circle for you by the time he steps in, bending down, picking up the stuff you had dropped. You're silent until he hands you his pieces. He doesn't bother responding to your timid thanks. 

"Give in," he tells you, watching the way your eyes widen as you look up at him.

You're weak. Physically, emotionally. He could easily pick you up with one hand, crush your body with his fist. Satoru could eviscerate your body from existence. You don't stand a chance with him. With either of them. 

His advice to you is good. Reasonable. And yet, he sees the face you make, the way you slowly get up. You won’t listen. That same burning feeling in his chest starts. It's gotten more painful. 

You don't listen to him until you lose nearly everything. Just as he warned you. Friday comes. You become Satoru's. And it's a little too late for everything. 

◉

Suguru doesn't think you ever learn that Satoru loves messing with you. 

Or, perhaps you do, but you can't help it. You're too honest, too open. He often wonders if that's how you were raised. To be honest, open, vulnerable. Your parents must have filled your thoughts with delusions, coddling you with words of cheap motivation. The world is your oyster. You just had to reach out and take it.

Maybe now you're finally realizing, sitting on Satoru's lap, that all men aren't created equal. 

Clearly, you weren't happy about it. Yet, you aren't complaining, sitting there pliantly legs firmly crossed, hands curled into tiny fists, staring rigidly on the floor. The first few times Satoru had done this in public, you were always biting your lip, tears threatening to fall. Now, Suguru thinks you just dissociate, coming back when Satoru laughs at something, jostling you in his arms. 

It's a bit like watching a helpless bird on the ground, twitching and spasming after it had just collided with a glass window. Pitiful, but there was nothing that could be done. It's the inevitability of it all that makes him pity you more than anything else, really.

Every so often, your eyes would catch his. It's a quick glance, as though you were wondering if he was watching. He can barely catch it, but Suguru is observant. Much like you. It's meaningless, and your gaze returns to the floor. Your fists tighten. 

Granting you mercy, Suguru stops looking at you during those times. 

He's not sure how Satoru sees you. Perhaps, you're akin to a dog for him. Though, that might not be very good for you. Satoru hadn't been very good with animals when he was younger. Satoru had always been rough with any pets he came into contact with, pushing and tugging. Suguru doubted that had changed. 

Satoru's is your official title. It isn't a relationship. It's an ownership. Unequal from the start. The one who holds the leash in the end, will always be Satoru. 

It took a while for you to fully learn that. 

Suguru didn't mean to catch the two of you. Looking back, it was probably because Satoru couldn't care less if someone was watching. Maybe Satoru was being obvious on purpose. It was a little while after school had officially ended. Suguru knew your usual routine would place you right at the library, scrolling through books. Satoru would most likely be there too, pestering you about this and that. It's the scene Suguru prepares himself to walk into.

Instead, you're wedged in between the white-haired boy and the wall, there's no space for you to do anything but sink. You're already crying (when was the last time you smiled?), trying to pull away but Satoru isn't letting you. He's gripping you by the chin, forcing eye contact. His sunglasses are off, tucked on his collar. 

Suguru's close enough to hear. You're begging. Apology after apology. It's barely a whisper, but they're spilling out of you like a prayer. He can't discern the context, but he knows enough. 

You made Satoru angry. 

He's still smiling, but it isn't sincere. Almost bordering on mania as he tightens his grip on you, forcing you further into the wall. Suguru doesn't think Satoru has ever hit you before, but now he's wondering if quick violence was preferable to this. 

"Don't be like that," Satoru chides as another squeak leaves your lips, "Where was that smile you were givin' him, hm? C'mon, pretty girl. You were wearin' it just a second ago." 

"It-it wasn't like that, I swear," you continue to plead, still not realizing that it's too late, "he was giving me his notes. Please-please Satoru-" 

"Wrong answer," he cuts you off, you flinch at his harshness but Suguru decides Satoru's being nice to you. He's been known to do worse, "we've been over this before, haven't we? Or did your stupid brain forget?" 

You're choking down another hiccup. It takes a minute for you to calm down enough to speak clearly. Ever impatient, Satoru's hand digs into your shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, Satoru," you say, "it won't happen again." 

He tilts his head, waiting. You wilt under his gaze. 

"I'm sorry...’Toru." 

Satoru gives a satisfied hum, pulling back and Suguru can practically see your lungs sag with relief. His mania is gone, replaced by something much more lighthearted and carefree. Suguru'd seen it before, but it was certainly something watching Satoru go from one high to the next. Even to Suguru, it's terrifying to witness. 

Suguru decides to make himself known right then. He comes out of the shadows, acting as though he'd just arrived. His friend lazily gives him a wave, curling an arm around your waist. You try to scrub away your tears with your forearms, unaware of how much Suguru had seen. Another mercy Suguru grants you. He doesn't acknowledge it. 

The three of you sit in the library for half an hour until you're done pretending that you're studying. When Satoru walks you home, Suguru follows. He notes that you barely hesitate to give Satoru a chaste kiss on the lips, and he wonders how often his friend has demanded one from you for you to be so casual about it. 

He thinks he gets it when he and Satoru are walking on the street without you. To Satoru, you aren't a dog. You aren't a pet, something that he keeps to see bark.

No, you are just Satoru's. 

◉

Towards the end of the year, Suguru realizes that Satoru loves you. 

He's nicer to you, now. Suguru doesn't think you've realized how softer Satoru's gotten, but the change is there. He spots less marks on you now. The biggest evidence he has is that stolen moment of you and Satoru. You'd accidentally fallen asleep during lunch break, dozing off on your desk. Satoru was right next to you, gently pushing your hair out of your face. Satoru loves you. 

You've changed too. Adapted, he should say. You cry less, now. Each time he sees you, you look more and more put together. As though, you're done mourning. The final stage of grief. Acceptance.

Despite how much nicer Satoru is to you, he's still just as clingy. Suguru notices that even now, none of your former friends speak to you. No one at school does. It's an unspoken rule to not mess with Satoru's things. 

Suguru can still remember the last guy who hadn't gotten the memo. A new student. Freshly transferred. Suguru had heard the conversation. The guy was hardly interested in you. It was nothing more than small talk. The pat on your shoulder had been thoughtless at least, friendly at most. 

Satoru beat him until the boy was bloody and had a broken nose. A week later, he'd transferred again. 

You're off limits. To everyone but Suguru. 

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

So, sometimes when Satoru can't walk you home. Suguru does. 

It was just the beginning of spring. The school year was starting to end. The school itself was starting to slow down. Teachers were getting less and less strict, less work was given out. It didn't matter. Colleges had already been picked. They were all close to the end. 

You don't say much when the two of you are alone. Suguru understands. It's hard to say much of anything when you're crushed by the weight of Gojo Satoru. But Suguru could have sworn he'd seen a flicker of relief when he came to pick you up and not his friend. You're clearly happier when it's him. Suguru decides he likes how that feels. It's a quick feeling of superiority. Something that quickly disappears when your eyes flick down. 

He knows where your house is, but he lets you take the lead anyway. Suguru figures it's the least he can do, give you that sense of control when nothing you do ever really does anymore. 

You and him have forged a shaky companionship. He's not sure what he is to you entirely, but you seem reliant on him in some way. it’s his fault, he thinks. He wonders if it has to do with the contraception he'd given you. He can still remember the trembling hands as you took it from him, curling the packet into your grip. That day he went home and his fingers felt strangely itchy. 

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

When he asks you a question, you answer. At least you aren't mute, though Suguru doesn't think he'd blame you if you ignored him. Your voice is stilted, with enough words to answer the question, but still not enough to fully sate him. 

And then, you break. 

Just a bit. 

A tiny piece of you shatters, and you show yourself to him. 

He'd been talking about something insignificant, college, his plans. Just ramblings. Somehow, Satoru comes into the conversation and he's talking about the area of his friend's college campus, how Satoru mentioned that he's looking for apartments for the two of you to stay in. And then, you're uncharacteristically scoffing. 

"Right," you say, head faced down on the sidewalk as you kick a rock, "because I'm following him there." 

Suguru can't help but place the sarcasm in your voice. The bitterness. He's heard it before, but it's a fascinating thing hearing it come from you. And then Suguru realizes that you accidentally gave something away. 

You were leaving. 

Somehow, it never crossed Suguru's mind that you were still rebelling, even now. And yet, he can't shake off the heat in your voice, your words. 

You seem to realize this too, freezing. 

He lets you falter for a few more moments before giving you a reprieve. 

"Satoru's idealistic like that," he let out. 

Your shoulders lower, and for the sake of both you and him, he doesn't press any further. 

He doesn't let himself let it go, even when he drops you home, arriving to his own house. Always cold. The mansion's lights are always off. No one's ever home. And Satoru's out of town. 

It's better this way, Suguru thinks as he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. No distractions, he can think better, as he replays your words over and over again. You were leaving. You were leaving. You were leaving Satoru. 

The night passes. When Satoru comes back to town, he's joyful as always, an arm slung around your shoulders. Suguru watches the way he coos at you, saying how much he missed you. You take his affections the way you always do, with a strained smile and wavering eyes. 

You glance at Suguru. Suguru stares right back. 

For a moment, Suguru thinks he understands why people are so enthralled with solar eclipses. The moon is seen as an underdog in most instances. It must be thrilling when a weak satellite can cover the sun's rays. Even for just a little bit. 

Suguru doesn't tell Satoru. He pushes the burning in his chest, ignoring the itchiness in his fingers. Things are better this way, right? After all, the two of you come from completely different worlds. It's nonsensical to think otherwise. 

Two weeks before graduation, you disappear without a trace. 

And Satoru breaks. 

It's a slow dissent. It comes in stages. The boy is angry at first, searching for you at school, when he can't find you there he loses his facade and demands where you are from your parents. They can't give him a clear answer because you're an adult now and you barely told them a thing before moving out. Suguru doesn’t think they knew what Satoru was to you. He doesn’t think they ever will.

The heat fades day by day, Week by week. Satoru starts to deflate the longer you aren't in his hold, his to mangle, and grab, and keep. He stops taking care of himself. His skin became paler, cracked lips, hollow cheeks. His eyes turn into this grayish blue that Suguru can't bring himself to look at for too long. He loses weight day by day. 

Suguru had never seen him react this way before. Satoru was always shining. He was the sun. Now, the center of the solar system was dying. He can feel himself dying with it. 

Satoru hadn't just loved you. Satoru had been obsessed with you. He breathed you in, inhaled your essence like oxygen. You'd been a part of him; a necessity. And then, you tore yourself away, leaving him bleeding on the concrete.

Guilt. Suguru feels it in his stomach, rising to his throat, threatening to stain his clothes. It's too late to say anything now, so he keeps it huddled deep inside of him. Suguru hopes it'll never come out. He helps the best he can, being there for his friend, his best friend. 

It takes a month for Satoru to start eating properly again. A few months later he starts regaining his usual physique. The gray in his eyes stays for a bit longer than Suguru likes. Suguru supposes he should take what he can get.

A year passes like that. The evidence of what you left behind fades, like bruises disappearing on skin. Suguru and Satoru become college students. Then, they graduate.

When Satoru joins the business, Suguru, his right-hand man, his second, his best friend, is right next to him. They’ve always worked well together, but that doesn’t change as they shift into adulthood. Despite how different Suguru and Satoru were, Suguru liked to think that their personalities were stagnant; unchanging even to the times.

What Satoru feels about you remains stagnant as well.

Suguru doesn’t think about you often, these days. Barely a few times a year, when he feels nostalgic enough to get out his old high school yearbook. He’d page through, spot your smiling portrait face. He’d find himself staring at you far longer than he liked too.

At first, Suguru thought Satoru was the same. Much like how one thinks about a lost toy they cherished when they were younger. The resentment would fade with time. Satoru didn’t speak about you for years.

Suguru hadn’t expected the girls, however.

He doesn’t notice the first one. He sees her, but he doesn’t internalize it. She’s hurriedly putting on her clothes after a clearly exciting night, so Suguru respectfully averts his gaze. He’s more focused on his exasperation at how Satoru had missed yet another meeting with the board. They would be less than pleased if they discovered Satoru didn’t show up because he was hungover.

The second time it happens, Suguru has a passing thought of how familiar the girl looked, despite being sure he’d never seen her in his life.

The third time it happens, Suguru realizes all the recent girls Satoru’s been bringing strike an uncanny resemblance towards you.

It’s not anything too obvious, but all of them would look a bit like you. Most would have your skin tone, your hair. One had your eyes, not the color, rather the shape of it. Satoru had kept her around the longest.

Suguru doesn’t say anything about it. Part of him wonders if Satoru is even doing it on purpose.

Suguru loves Satoru like he would his own brother, but his recent hobby was starting to get on his nerves a bit.

“So much work,” the man complains, “Why can’t we just send all this off to Ijichi?”

“He has his own work to complete,” Suguru reprimands, “the sooner you stop complaining, the sooner we can finish.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but moves to another page of meaningless paperwork; Something that would be scanned into their system and then tucked away into a random file cabinet. They currently sat in Satoru’s grand kitchen, lounging on the barstools after Suguru had pounded Satoru’s door in. Satoru had let him in with an irritated look, complaining that it was the weekend and he had ‘stuff’ to do.

“He’s my assistant,” Satoru retorts, “my work is his work.”

“The reason why we’re in this mess in the first place is because you kept pawning off your job to the poor man in the first place. You’ve given him wrinkles from just the stress of being in your vicinity.”

“That’s insulting,” Satoru counters, “my presence is nothing but calming.”

“You do the exact opposite, actually. A black hole that sucks the soul out of everyone who hangs around you.”

“You hang around me all the time and you don’t have wrinkles.”

Suguru smiles. “It’s because I don’t respect you enough to listen to anything you’re saying.”

Satoru’s about to respond, when another voice interrupts him. Alluring, feminine.

“Satoru,” she coos, “When are you getting back here?”

From his seat, Suguru has a clear view of Satoru’s bedroom. Only her head is peeked out, and Suguru notes her bare shoulders. Your eyes, and your lips this time. She’s tilting her head, mouth curved in a coy smile.

Of course. Suguru can only roll his eyes. There’s that same burning feeling in his chest. During the years, it hasn’t really gotten any better.

“Coming, coming,” Satoru calls back, “just a minute, babe.”

“Stuff to do, hm?” Suguru drawls with amusement. Satoru flips him off.

"Worry 'bout yourself," Satoru says, "when's the last time you got any, huh? Honestly, when's the last time you've taken a break? A vacation?"

"I can't," Suguru replies, "I'm always stuck babysitting you."

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour, ‘Toru." The woman interrupts. "Can’t you just do it later?”

Suguru hadn’t even noticed it. He brushed it off, barely hearing their conversation as he shuffled around the papers.

Satoru had.

He hums. Straightening his back.

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. You should head on home.”

At first, he thought Satoru was talking to him. Then, he hears the woman’s annoyed huff.

“Hold on, you’re kicking me out?” She asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Satoru says, not sounding very apologetic, “I got a lotta’ stuff to do and you’re not gonna wanna stick around.”

His tone is light, but Suguru can’t help but place a sense of annoyance in them. The anger. His posture is stiff, almost like he’s primed for a fight.

‘Toru. She called him ‘Toru.

You used to call him ‘Toru.

“Seriously, I-”

“I hate repeating myself: Get the fuck out.”

There’s silence, and then Suguru can hear her mutter to herself as she shuffles inside the room. She comes out minutes later, not quite dressed, but presentable. She shoots Satoru a glare, to which he only waves off. The door shuts with a noticable thud.

“Back to work,” Satoru says, “do you feel hot? The AC has been acting up, lately.”

He carries on like that, back to normal, as though he wasn’t about to snap just a few minutes ago. Suguru follows suit, not aknowledging the outburst, much like he doesn’t aknowledge most things regarding you.

Later, Suguru laughs about the hypocrisy of it all. Satoru brings home physical reminders of you, but he refuses the remnants of you. The most intimate parts, he’d kept hidden away from his life, yet he still wishes to touch, to feel. He wonders how you’d feel if you knew that Gojo Satoru is wrapped around your finger, even now.

◉

Satoru had done something yet again. It's always something with Gojo Satoru. Suguru should have left him to deal with the legal team himself, but here he was, trailing beside the firm’s directors as the man droned on and on how well Mr.Gojo would be well taken care of how here our clients are family. He forces himself to push away that feeling in his chest, scorching his throat. He was getting sick of the constant blabbering. He’d glanced away for just a second.

And then he saw you.

You, not some remnant, not some picture, not someone similar. You. He knew it was you. A little older, a little taller. You’d switched the high school uniform for a blouse and a pencil skirt. Suguru stares. He’s tempted to say your name, seek you out, as though you’re old friends-

He reels himself back in.

You disappear through a frosted glass door, completely unaware of his gawking. You hadn’t seen him. Good. The firm’s director didn’t notice his pause, carrying on as though nothing happened. Suguru smiles and laughs at the horrible ice breakers, but he also steals a glance at the name of the door you went through.

Later, Suguru looks up Higuruma Hiromi. A well-established lawyer. Worked at the firm for nearly a decade.

You are his sole paralegal.

Law. He had never considered it for you. Now, he thinks it’s a little fitting. He can’t help it. He looks you up. You have no social media, most likely from a remnant fear, but he finds where you went to college, what your area of study was, where else you’d worked, your life. Questions he’d had for nearly a decade he finally has an answer.

Honestly, Suguru was a little mad it was all so easy.

He can’t see the entire scope of your life, but he knows you were happy after high school, away from Satoru. You seemed happy when he caught that glimpse of you. There was a slight smile on your face, you never did that with Satoru around.

Satoru’s a little pathetic, a thought he has to concede to. He’s still hung over you, while you clearly hadn’t thought of him in years.

Suguru stares at your picture a little more.

The burning feeling comes back again. Hotter, melting.

Oh.

Suguru is disgusted by you.

You, that bitch loitering in Satoru’s bedroom, that greedy firm director. Disgust, that sick feeling crawling down his stomach, seeping into his bones. He’s disgusted by the weak.

He’s even more disgusted when they think they can defeat the strong. Decieve them.

You always thought you were better than Satoru, better than Suguru, even from the beginning. Even when you rejected him. Even when Satoru’s goons were torturing you, you still thought you could get out of it somehow. Even when Satoru had his hand on your shoulder, claws sinking into your flesh, you were still looking for a way out. It was like watching a rat trapped in a cage, pathetically sniffing around for an exit.

The weak could never escape the whims of the strong. It was a truth of the world, something he’d always known and yet it’d take a decade for him to put the words together. The weak could never make a fool of the strong.

You are weak. A mere satellite floating along, before getting trapped in the Earth’s gravitational force. Suguru could crush you with one fist. Satoru could evisirate you to atoms.

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

“I’ve put together a legal team that will represent you.”

Suguru places the neat stack of documents onto Satoru’s desk. The white-haired man barely gives them a glance. Suguru knows Satoru won’t ever look at them, even when your name is hidden somewhere within the sheets, along with Higuruma’s. Suguru wonders how long it’d take for Satoru to figure it out. It’s a shame he won’t be there to see it unfold in real-time, but perhaps, once Satoru puts the pieces together, he’ll thank him.

Here, in the present, Satoru types away at his computer, barely paying attention to Suguru’s words.

“Oh, great,” Satoru says off handedly, “thanks, man.”

Suguru sighs.

“Uh, I love you?” Satoru tries again.

“Never repeat those words to me ever again,” Suguru responds, “I wish you’d be a bit more interested in this, considering it’s your fault the company is in this mess in the first place.”

Satoru gives a hushed hum of agreement. Suguru smiles.

“In other news: I won’t be here next week.”

That catches his best friend’s attention. Satoru gapes at him.

“You’re quitting?”

“No, idiot. I’m taking your advice. I’m taking a few weeks off. I already put it in the calendar that you never check so why did I even bother.”

“A vacation? You never take vacations, even when I beg you to,” Satoru squints at him, “What’s the occasion?”

Eventually, Satoru will figure it out. For now, Suguru wants to enjoy this.

“I worked hard this year. I should reward myself, shouldn’t I?” He reasons, “oh, and I have a surprise for you showing up in a week or so. Let me know what you think of it.”

“A gift? For me?” Satoru beams. “You really do love me.”

“Don’t push it.”

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then Suguru supposed he would be the Earth. Close enough to receive the star's radiance, but with a strong enough magnetitic field to shield from solar winds. 

If Suguru was the Earth, then Suguru supposed you would be the Moon. A tiny cratered satellite he tugs along with him, forever in sight of the burning sun. 

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark content #dark gojo satoru #dark jjk #non con touching #gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #bullying #harrassment #non con kissing #geto suguru

[skipper19]

Imagine this..

Gojo absolutely loves the look of his pregnant wife wobbling around the home. He loves it a lot more than he thought he would. Gojo takes so many pictures of you. From the day of the big news, all the way to today.

"Satoru sto-Op!" You squeaked and giggled as you spoke. "I am allowed to dote on my pregnant wife, thank you very much." His low voice spoke very smugly into your ear. Despite your outward complaints, you still looked to the phone sitting on the kitchen counter and smiled. You blinked when the flash went off, and you rubbed your eyes.

"You take too many pictures of me.." You grumble. "Especially when I look like shit." You pouted and rested your hand on your swollen stomach. Gojo gasped and put a hand to his chest. "Shit? You're the most gorgeous woman I have ever met," He leans now and cups your jaw in his hands. "Especially in the mornings." He whispered softly before kissing you. You smiled into the kiss and felt your shoulders relax.

"Mm..if I wasn't already pregnant, I would drag you to bed until I am.." You mumbled happily against his lips. Gojo snickers and rolls his ocean eyes. "Keep talking like that, and I will drag you back to bed, despite already being pregnant." He smirked with lidded eyes. "Even if I'm 5 months pregnant?" You whispered. "Especially when you're 5 months pregnant." He pulled you into a passionate kiss after the words left his lips.

You both didn't leave the bed again until 6 pm.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

Gojo hurriedly washed his hands and ignored grabbing paper towels as he left, deciding to wipe his wet hands off on his pants instead. He was in too much of a rush to care anyway. His pregnant wife was all by her lonesome in the grocery store as he dealt with his bladder problem. He hated to leave you alone. He hated leaving you alone around other people even more.

Gojo sensed your cursed energy in the nearest aisle and quickly returned by your side. He smiled when he spotted you looking at the baby shoes that were huddled in a small pile on the corner of the shelf. Gojos eyes glanced to the clearance sign above the shelf and playfully rolled his eyes. "Didn't I say I wanted our baby girl to have the best quality clothes? Why are we in the clearance section?" He playfully scolded as he leaned his shoulder against the shelf with the shoes.

"Well, I remember saying that it doesn't have to be expensive, as long as it looks adorable on our baby boy." You retorted with a sly smile. Gojo huffed and shook his head. "Our baby girl has the best, strongest, and wealthiest father in all of Japan. I think she deserves to be spoiled." He crossed his arms, making you glance at the faint sight of his veins popping out. Amusement laced his eyes behind the dark shades adorning his handsome face.

"And I think our baby boy will care nothing about being spoiled, as long as it's comfortable." You shot back and quickly looked back down to the pair of shoes in your hand. Gojo felt his heart leap when you placed the boy shoes in the shopping cart before reaching back onto the shelf and grabbing a feminine pair of shoes as well. Gojo pushed himself from the shelf and walked behind you to wrap his arms around your growing belly.

"You are going to be an amazing mother." He whispered softly into your ear. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. "You think so?" You placed your hands onto his. "I really do."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

It didn't take long for Gojo to realize you weren't in bed with him any longer. He was normally hyper aware when you would leave the warmth of his arms at night, but he had been even more of a light sleeper after you hit your 7 month mark.

Gojo didn't want to think of what he would do if something had happened to you.

He threw the covers off of himself before leaving the inviting warmth of the sheets. He quickly makes his way to the kitchen, only to find you quietly sitting at the marble island in the center of the room. You were minding your business as you nibbled away at your odd snack, a soft tune playing from the radio nearby. Gojo always insisted on buying speakers. That way, he could blast music from the TV, but you denied him every time. You always said that the radio was much better.

Gojo sighed and quietly walked up to you, his eyes grazing over your plump form. He couldn't help but smirk. You just looked so lovely as you sat there, munching away on your food, his shirt barely covering your body. Gojo was head over heels in love with you, that was obvious.

"Sneaking away from me just to get you a snack? How rude." Gojo softly said as he pouted. You jumped as his arms snaked around your body. You swatted at his muscular arms and shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Dont sneak up on a pregnant lady! You nearly made me drop my pickles.." You mumbled. Despite your annoyance, your body still leaned back to relax against his warm chest.

Gojo glanced at the food in your hands and resisted the urge to shiver. Pickles and marshmallows. "Mm, I wouldn't want to have to throw that snack away.." You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and plopped the pickle and mini marshmallow in your mouth. "Shuddup."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"You're doing so good, baby, just a few more pushes." Gojo encouraged you with soft spoken words and swift fingers caressing your hair. You wanted to yell at him to just shut up, but the pain you were feeling inhibited anything other than pained sounds.

Gojo hated seeing you in so much pain. Especially when he couldn't do anything to quell it. "Just one more push." The doctor said. If it weren't for the situation, Gojo knew better than anyone how embarrassed you would be right now. He leaned down closer to your ear. "One more push, sweetheart, and then we can meet our beautiful baby." He whispered softly. You gripped his hand tighter, thankful that his infinity was lowered, his touch grounded you. It kept you sane on a normal day, and you needed him more than ever right now.

"I can't.. I can't!" Your voice was hoarse and weak as you sobbed aloud. Gojo shook his head and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your skin as he spoke. "Yes, you can. I know you can. You're strong, the strongest woman I have ever met, I know you can do this." His words replayed like a symphony. You can do this. You are strong. You can do this. For your baby.

One final push, followed by a shout of pain, led to the cries of your baby echoing in the room. Gojo smiled and gulped down his nerves as he watched the nurses take away his baby to be cleaned.

You weren't in the same condition.

Your ears rang as your head pounded. You know your baby was finally delivered, so why couldn't you hear them? Your glazed eyes panicked to search the room for your child. "Sa-satoru?" Your voice weakly called out. His ocean blue eyes cast down to your face to see the concern and tears. His hand moved from your hair to your face as he wiped away your tears and tilted your gaze to meet his.

"I can't hear them crying. Are they okay?" You hiccuped. Gojos eyebrows furrowed slightly, yet he kept a warm smile on his face. "They are fine, don't worry." He reassured and kissed your sweaty forehead. His eyes glanced to the doctor, only to see a reassuring smile sent back his way. "It's normal for the mother to be disoriented after giving birth. It's a lot of strain on her body." The doctor said quietly.

Gojo sighed and briefly closed his eyes as his lips lingered against your forhead. His attention was directed to the nurse as she walked back with a small bundle in her arms. "Mrs. Gojo," the nurse called softly. Your eyes fell to her, then the bundle of life in her arms. A wobbly smile formed on your lips as you weakly reached out your arms for your baby. The moment the baby was rested against your chest, tears fell from your eyes like a waterfall.

Gojo couldn't help but tear up.

"It's a boy." The nurse spoke up. You tearfully giggled and gently ran your finger over your baby's cheek. "My baby boy.." You mumbled, a soft kiss landing on his head.

After a few moments of skin to skin contact and appreciation, you looked to Gojo. He didn't need you to say a word. He eagerly held his arms out for you to gently place his baby boy in his warm hold. On instinct, the man handled his son with nothing but gentle touch. You just knew he was going to be an amazing father. "God, look at you.. beautiful, just like your mama.." He cooed. You rested your hand on his arm. "Handsome, just like his daddy." You whispered with droopy eyes. He shakily sighed.

This is his family.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"Thank you.. Thank you so much." Gojo mumbled into your ear. Your mind, despite being fogged, was able to register his words. "F-for what?" You gasped, your nails drawing blood from his pale skin. "For giving me a family." His words reverberated in your spine, causing your ears to tingle and your eyes to close in pleasure.

"I want to be selfish.." He spoke again. His movement picked up speed, quickly sucking the words from your throat. "I want one more. Give me one more -please baby, just one more.." But Gojo has always been a greedy man. One was never enough, and you knew this all too well.. "Please~" He begged, almost pathetically. You moaned aloud and grasped his face in your hands, pulling his lips to your own from where they once were on your neck.

"Give me it, Satoru.. give it to me."

#jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #pregnant reader #fluff #fanfic

[hs-is-loml]

Avoid. (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Summary: blurb! after thinking about something bianca said to you a few days ago, you started to create a small distance from your boyfriend. which of course he noticed.

Warnings: established relationship, self-doubt, the smallest bit of angst, fluff ending

a/n: okay, so i ended up not reading my textbook, and worked on other things instead... but anyways enough about that just remember you are always more than enough<3

masterlist

“You look awfully lonely,” a voice said from beside you. "You mind if I join?"

Your gaze moved from the pavement to a pair of green eyes that you knew far too well.

“I was enjoying a moment of peace actually,” you responded to the boy before you continued to look ahead at the path in front of you that led into the city.

“Moment of peace or are you avoiding me?” Xavier countered with his eyebrows raised giving you a knowing look.

“No, I definitely think it was for a moment of peace,” you replied pausing for a second. “From you…”

“I KNEW IT!”

“You don’t have to be so loud, it’s only us,” you laughed at the boy’s reaction.

“Wait. Why have you been avoiding me? You haven’t even responded to my texts earlier,” Xavier asked with a worried tone.

“I ran into someone a few days ago, and they made me realized something,” you answered wanting to move on from the topic.

“And what did they make you realized?”

“That I shouldn’t get to attached.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” Xavier uttered.

“Xavier, it’s nothing personal,” you lied. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

What really happened was a few days ago Bianca came up to you sprouting thoughts of doubt about your relationship with Xavier throughout your mind. She talked about how this was only temporary for him until he would eventually get bored and come back to her. You knew that wouldn’t actually happen, but it didn’t stop you from creating more distance between you and Xavier for the past few days.

“I think you ignoring me is definitely personal,” he scoffed. “Y/n, it takes two people to be in a relationship.”

“Which two people,” you said under your breathe though he was still able to pick up what you whispered.

“No, seriously, what is your problem with me right now?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” you snapped quickening your pace to walk ahead of him. “You always go back to her don’t you?”

“Who?” Xavier asked in the most utter confusion.

“Bianca.”

“Why would I go back to her? I have you.”

“What if I not enough?” you blurted out stopping in your tracks to turn around and face him.

“You are more enough. You’re all I need,” Xavier walked closer to you.

“I-”

“You are the only person that I want,” he wrapped his arms around you allowing you to lean your head against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do. I shouldn’t have let Bianca have that much power over our relationship,” you admitted. “I was just scared that what if you got bored with being with me?”

“How could I ever get bored? I could stare at you for hours,” he laughed.

“You’re only saying that because you need a model to draw,” you pushed him away laughing.

“I don’t need a model if you’re my muse,” he joked.

“Maybe I was right for avoiding you.” you said walking faster to the city.

“Wait! Hey! NO MORE AVOIDING.”

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #netflix #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe angst #was this angst or fluff i don't know #angst with a happy ending

[sanatomis]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ── 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄!

a child is bound to feel neglected when they discover no one bothered to show up for their science fair, especially when all their peers have someone to dote on them. it seems fushiguro megumi is no exception.

content. female!reader with she/her pronouns, feminine nicknames (princess), established relationship with satoru, slight angst with a happy ending.

notes. nobody was there when i presented my end of the year research-project as a 14 year old, so megumi (age 7), baby, i'm gonna make sure there's someone there for you.

࣪taglist. | series masterlist.

Megumi never really cared about science fairs. To him, they’re just a regular afternoon at school that he’ll have to sit through until he’s finally allowed to go home. He may think of them as unnecessary—as he does not believe in a good reason for parents to come to the school and marvel at their child’s (very much mediocre) creation—but he has never had a strong opinion towards them. They were just. . .there. 

He didn’t pay them much mind, and that exact indifference turned out to be the motive behind the very serious crime of putting a flyer in the bin. 

“Look what I found!” 

There’s a sense of annoyance that bubbles up in his stomach when Satoru puts the invitation to the science fair in front of him. Megumi’s brows furrow, and he purses his lips—leave it to him to find something he doesn’t want to have found. 

“Hm?” You hum, and lean over to look. One of Satoru’s fingers taps impatiently on the flyer, as if it’s saying ‘look, I caught him hiding something!’. Megumi briefly contemplates biting the digit clean off. “Science fair. . .Is this yours, Megumi?”

While reading, you put the bowl of rice back down onto the dinner table, and Tsumiki gingerly grabs it upon return. You mouth the words as you do so, and the boy nearly gags when he watches Satoru’s lovesick gaze at your little quip. It’s so disgustingly sappy, he nearly forgets you asked him a question. Nearly, as it had induced just enough anxiety into him to make him remember. 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, and pokes a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. 

You stop reading at his confirmation. There’s a sad look in your eye, it forms quickly and is instantly directed at him. Megumi doesn’t like it. Especially since he’s most likely the cause of it. “Why didn’t you tell us?” You ask, and he finds himself at a loss of words. 

Why didn’t he tell you? In all honesty, it just didn’t occur to him to do so. He has never cared about science fairs, nor has he had people who attended them for him. Most times, they are for parents only—so try as she might, Tsumiki was never allowed inside. Megumi eventually stopped bringing them up. He felt a little sorry for all the failed attempts his sister (very lovingly) made. But now. . .well, yes, why didn’t he tell you? 

He doesn’t know the answer to that. 

“Didn’t think of it,” he says eventually, because he knows you’ve been trying to get him to talk more; verbalising his feelings, is what you called it. 

You frown at his answer, and it makes him wonder if he said the wrong thing. A quick glance between you and the man at your side is shared. Megumi thinks that can’t be good. 

“It says it’s for tomorrow evening,” you tell Satoru, and push the flyer over back to his side of the table. “Are you free, then?”

Satoru pauses. He’s not free, Megumi knows he isn’t. Not because Satoru told him so, but because he listened to the phone call he had a few hours ago. It’s bad manners, he knows—he can hear you in his head, and he shouldn’t have done it. But, Satoru talks so loudly, he should simply quiet down if he doesn’t want others to hear. 

“I sure am,” he says then, and Megumi tries to hide the surprise on his face. He’s lying. Liar. Liar. Liar. It’s all that goes through the boy’s head, but he doesn’t say it out loud. 

He does wonder why Satoru lied, but he quickly gets his answer when he sees the happy smile that breaks out on your lips. “That’s great!” You say, and place one of your hands on his. Seemingly delighted, you look at Megumi. “We’ll be there.” 

“It’s nothing special,” Megumi says. His voice is clear this time, as opposed to his previous mumbling. Once again, he hears you in his head. You’re allowed to make noise. “You really don’t have to.” 

“Nonsense,” Satoru chimes. 

You continue his sentence. “We’ll be there.” 

We’ll be there. 

We’ll be there. 

We’ll be there. 

. . .So, where are you? 

Megumi isn’t too proud to admit that he’s currently desperately looking for the blabbermouth you call your boyfriend. It’s not because he’d rather have him here than you, but his white hair makes for a stark contrast among the crowd. It’s so very easy to find, and yet it’s nowhere to be found. He’s not here, and that, by extension, means you probably aren’t here, either. The realisation hits him harder than he thought it would have. 

For some reason, there’s a deep sadness. He thinks it’s a little silly. Nobody has ever shown up before, and he was fine with that. Being alone isn’t new to him. None of the situation he’s currently in is surprising, and yet Megumi has to fight off the tears welling up in his eyes. Why is he feeling this way? This hasn’t happened before. 

Megumi doesn’t care about science fairs. But, if that were true, then why do all the children and their parents suddenly make the room feel smaller? He swallows. All his classmates are darting around the room, chattering and motioning towards their projects while their parents gawk in feigned awe. As they always did. Except now, he feels something akin to resentment boil from within. His hand balls up into a fist. 

There isn’t a good enough reason for him to feel so disappointed. The position he finds himself in isn’t unfamiliar, and he knows Satoru was initially called-in for a mission somewhere in Ginza. Something came up, that’s all there is to it. Megumi knew better than to get his hopes up, or so he thought. How pitiful.After all this time, he still hasn’t learned.

And suddenly, he’s four years old again, and crawling into the crumpled bed sheets of his father’s ever-so-empty bed. He’s holding onto the fabric as if it’ll slip through his fingers, and stifling his quiet sobs with the pillow that doesn’t carry the same comforting scent any longer. It hasn’t for months now. Megumi keeps hoping that one day, it will. Tsumiki peeks into the room, and he pretends not to notice. He’s four years old, and has no parents, and absolutely no idea why his father left without him. 

Why was he forgotten? 

There is a lump forming in his throat. Its imminent appearance lulled him out of the faded memory, and into the present—the present, where he is, once again, forgotten about. Perhaps that is simply the tale of Megumi Fushiguro. 

“Mom, look! I added the glitter to it just as you said,” a girl speaks from the booth next to him. “What do you think? It’s pretty, right? Do you think it’s pretty?”

Her mother laughs, and pets her head once the girl starts tugging on her arm. “Mhm, it’s beautiful, darling. I’m very proud of you.”

Megumi doesn’t necessarily want to cry. Though, when his eyes water momentarily, there’s very little he can do about it; he feels even more powerless when his bottom lip starts trembling. He once read that blinking rapidly will make one’s tears disappear like snow before the sun, except that article mustn’t have taken the feeling of heartbreak into consideration. It doesn’t matter how much Megumi blinks, the first tear falls down his cheek a few seconds later. 

“Huh? What’s this? You really need to work on your handwriting, Megumi, your name is barely rea. . .” 

A part of him is convinced that the universe has it out for him. There is no other reason for the constant waves of misfortune that strike him. Sniffling, he looks up at the man in front of him—and the worst thought he has ever had surfaces. He is so very happy to see Satoru Gojo. 

Satoru’s eyes widen in shock upon seeing the water staining the boy’s cheeks, but even then Megumi can’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed. Not at this moment. With teary eyes, he blinks up at the tall man that snatched him up from the street like he was some discarded piece of free furniture.

“Where’s. . .” he croaks out, but gets interrupted rather quickly. 

“She’s talking to your teacher,” Satoru says softly. It’s a new tone of voice, one Megumi vaguely remembers as the one he normally reserved for you. This is making him uncomfortable—even a blind person would see that, but Satoru still tries. “Hey, it’s alright, buddy. She’s here.” 

The pat on his head nearly feels awkward. . .No, it does feel awkward. Satoru is petting him as if he were gently pressing a buzzer. It’s not even remotely close to the soft caresses you use when soothing him back to sleep, but it still brings him some strange sense of comfort. Megumi doesn’t swat his hand away. 

“There, there,” Satoru mumbles, and crouches down to his height. It’s a little silly to see such a man all folded up, his legs too long to look normal. “There was an accident a little further down the road. It took us a little longer to get here.”

Megumi lets out a shaky sigh. The petting stops shortly after. It’s quiet for a little while after—even if the room is filled with adults and children alike. Satoru looks at him, and he briefly wonders how you’re able to withstand looking into his eyes for as long as you do sometimes; Megumi thinks the blues will blind him soon. He gulps. For as annoying he might be when speaking, it turns out that Satoru Gojo is much more unnerving when he’s silent—silent, and looking right at you. 

Adorned with white lashes, Satoru’s baby blues pick Megumi apart at the seam. The boy has the brief idea to ask what he is thinking, but then decides against it. 

“Are you okay?”

The sound of his voice startles him. He hadn’t expected him to speak any time soon. 

“Megumi,” he calls out. “Are you okay?”

Is he okay? Megumi doesn’t know for sure. There are a lot of emotions he went through these past twenty minutes, and he isn’t entirely convinced that his brain was able to process them all. But for now—for now, he at least feels okay. 

Megumi nods. It’s all he does, not confident in his ability to verbalise his thoughts at the moment. He sniffs again. He’s okay, things are okay. 

“Good, that’s good,” Satoru mumbles, and his eyes dart towards the right side of the room; towards the door. He clears his throat, and one of his fingers carefully makes its way towards Megumi’s cheek. “That’s good. She’s here now, see?”

Megumi visibly perks up, and, while still a little shaken, starts searching for you. As soon as he lifts his head up, there’s a soft brush against his skin. He wavers for a moment, confusion on his face once he realises Satoru brushed some stray tears away. The two look at each other once again. Why did he. . .

“Oh, there you are, lovie,” you say, relief apparent in your voice. It never takes you long to embrace Megumi—you once said he’d be stuck in your arms forever if you had your way. The boy moulds into you, and his anxiety dissipates as soon as your perfume hits his nose; the scent comforting him. “I’m so sorry, there was an accident, and all roads were blocked, and. . .God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long.” 

You cup his cheeks in his hands, and Megumi suddenly feels under scrutiny. It’s as if you’re searching for any inkling that your late arrival had caused him unease. It clicks, then, why Satoru did what he did. He’s a buffoon most of the time, but it seems there are some working cells left in his brain—when it concerns you, of course. Megumi is very thankful for him now. Though, he will deny ever feeling so. 

“Alright, princess, let him breathe,” Satoru says, the usual light lilt to his voice has made a return. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches you fuss over him. “Don’t you want to show us your project, Megumi?”

The mention of his project catches your attention. “Oh! Yes, will you show us, Gumi?” 

One might think you’re speaking about some grand architecture design rather than a small, barely functioning science project. That is, if they took the look in your eyes as anything to go by. The boy glances between you and Satoru. Megumi then decides that, yes, he would like to show it to you—he always has wanted to show them. 

You weren’t his parents, but you were at his side. And when Megumi looks at the near-giddy excitement showing up on Satoru’s face, and the unconditional support on yours. . .he thinks that may just be enough. 

He nods, and finds his words again. 

“I—I will, yes. Follow me, please.”

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

taglist [based off the last fic in the series, let me know if it’s no longer wanted]: @torusdoll @sad-darksoul

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: fushiguro megumi #ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #platonic fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[strnilolo]

clumsy girl

summary: matt’s girlfriend is rather clumsy.

warnings: cursing, use of y/n, kisses kinda, jokes about death, idk what else. lowercase intentional

an: i kinda don’t like this one guys. BUT this won the vote so ask and you shall receive.

an2: i do have some requests guys and im very sorry that i haven’t gotten to them, its just hard for me to get motivated unless i have a really good idea for a fic and can play it out in my head. but i will be working on requests i promise.

|navigation|

you and matt are sat on the couch together, aimlessly scrolling through your phones. matt leans his head on your shoulder before giggling slightly, sitting upright next to you.

“look at this video, isn’t this funny?” matt moves his phone in front of you, scrolling to restart the video.

you watch as different clips cut across the screen, laughing lightly to yourself. the video had been a compilation of matt saving you from falling, hitting your head, hurting yourself, etc.

“you’re so clumsy, huh? always need me to save you” matt smirks at your annoyed expression.

“i am not that clumsy, matthew, you’ve probably tripped and fallen more times than me” you roll your eyes as you sit back against your teasing boyfriend.

“well.. what about that one time at dinner, or the time you almost tripped up the stairs?”

matt went on and on about the different times he was your ‘knight in shining armor.’

two months ago

“okay guys now we’re going to be decorating the cupcakes and our lovely mother is going to be trying them and rating them 1-10” you listened patiently as nick loudly addressed the camera, informing the viewers of our next step.

“oh shit” your tube of icing dropped onto the floor right as the clip began rolling. you quickly bend to the side to grab the tube as matt reached his hand to cover the corner of the table, protecting your head from bashing into it. sitting up, you thank matt for his help before continuing to decorate your cupcake.

currently

“oh my god, i actually do remember that. people were making edits for weeks” the two of you laughed at the fond memory, before matt began to speak again.

“do you remember the time you almost fell down the stairs during our house tour?”

“oh please don’t remind me” groaning at the embarrassing image in your head.

several months earlier

“okay so now y/n is going to lead us upstairs to the room we share” matt followed behind you, talking to the camera as the vlog went on.

“oh fuck!” you grip onto the railing, feeling yourself slip on the wooden staircase.

“jesus y/n-” you feel matt’s hand on your back, steadying you on the stairs before he releases his grip, allowing you to continue up.

“you have got to be more careful, you could’ve killed us all” nick laughs from behind matt, dramatically grasping onto the rail.

“whatever, thanks matt” you smile at the boy, playfully rolling your eyes.

“okay guys so we made it upstairs, barely, now to show you where i sleep” matt faces the camera towards you as the four of you continue to vlog a tour of your shared living space.

currently

“jesus, that was embarrassing” you cover your face with your hands in attempt to hide your blush.

“no it wasn’t, you just don’t want the world to see that you’d die without me” matt pulls your hands from your face, playfully placing kisses around your forehead and cheeks.

“i guess i would die without you, huh?”

“a very painfully and stupid death, yes” the two of you laugh at the memories, enjoying the little amount of quality time you’re able to get.

| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated|

| 🏷️ @strniolosworld @bananabread-nana @abbie13sworld @mxqdii |

ps i do not consent to my work being stolen, translated, or posted on any other website without my permission

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #pls reblog #sturniolo edit #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x yn #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #give me a chance #chris sturniolo imagine #i need him #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo x reader #alice writes

[cherubfae]

Hello! I love your writing, it's so cute! Here's an Idea bouncing around in my head: Reader is a shy and easily flustered individual who's developed a crush on Alastor. However they try to keep their distance as they know he's Aro/Ace and doesn't want to overstep boundaries. They go to Lucifer a (somewhat) expert on romance and feelings of longing to vent, also developing a crush on Lucifer- (Reader is a hopeless romantic lol)

Anyway, hope you have a nice day and remember to drink water!

|| The Price of Love || Alastor x Reader x Lucifer

tags: gn!sinner!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, miscommunication, blood/injuries, mild nudity mention, divorced!Luci, I had to make it a bit comical, I made this too angsty for my own liking now I'm sad 😭, protective bois

This is a one shot. I won't be writing a part two. Thank you! :)

A dreamy sigh echoes from your lips, swirling down the empty hallway. You're sitting on your bed with your knees pulled to your chest with a clawed hand over your heart. Sometimes you miss the thrum of your heartbeat against your fingers. With all of the people occupying Hell, you didn't expect to feel quite this lonely.

You stare down at the pocket watch in your hands. Such a tiny device cost quite a fortune, but it was a true antique having been manufactured in the 1920s. Your intention was to give it to Alastor. Yet, you never did.

Despite everything in your being wanting you to give him the simple gift, a token of your love and your friendship, you just couldn't. You were already internally setting yourself up for a failure that may not even come. You weren't sure Alastor would ever be into someone, let alone you. So, allowing these thoughts to fester you withdrew yourself from him. Forcing smiles when around him and the others, faking laughter; all of which Alastor could see right through. Every time he tried to seek you out, to confront you, you were already engaged with someone else or another task for the hotel.

You were actively allowing your depression to swallow you whole all the whole not realizing that if you had only asked, Alastor's feelings are the same as yours. He just didn't know how to approach you and Rosie thought it best to let you come to him; yet you never did. Even Alastor was finding it a bit hard to keep that smile on his face. Why won't you just approach him? He...He can't do it. Please.

A dreary day in Hell with violent lightning and thunderclouds and acidic rain brought you into the company of Lucifer Morningstar himself. He could smell your sadness from miles away and like clockwork, he instantly pulls you under his wings.

"Now then, sweetling, what brings you to see the Big Boss Man Himself?" Lucifer grins, crossing his leg over his knee nursing an apple martini with an apple slice hanging off the sugar-dusted edge. He serves you whatever drink you may like, alcoholic or non-alcoholic.

"I'm in love with Alastor and I don't know what to do! I'm scared to get too close to him because I'm not even sure he's into me like that and I don't want to get hurt!" You sob, the words come pooling out of your mouth like a waterfall and so do the tears.

Lucifer visibly bristles at the mention of his rival, almost choking on his drink. With a snap of his fingers, his martini glass vanishes with a poof! His full attention now on you. Gently, he takes your hand in his gloved one.

Softly, he begins. "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real. It's not the end of the world, not by a long shot. Everyone who we meet and who we love crosses our paths for a reason. To teach us something, either for a short chapter or they'll be lifelong companions. Even in the afterlife, there are still people worth risking the hurt for." Smiling wobbly, Lucifer embraces you close. "Take a few deep breaths. If this is truly how you feel, talk to him about it. We may be magic down here in Hell but not all of us are mind-readers, darlin'."

For the first time in a long while, you smile too. Embracing him again with a laugh.

Standing to leave, you turn to your friend. "May I see you again?"

Lucifer let out a tiny gasp, a slight pink hue coating his cheeks. "I'd like that a lot!" He jumps up. "I can show you how to paint rubber ducks!"

When you finally return from your outing, you're in a much more visibly happy mood. With eyebrows raised, Alastor watches from the shadows as you whistle a happy little tune and make your way up the stairs and veer to the left towards your bedroom. A familiar scent clings to your own, one that makes his lips curl back in a vicious snarl. Lucifer.

"Now darling, I think it's time that we have a talk--" Alastor materializes from the shadows, fully manifesting into your bedroom. You shriek in surprise.

Immediately, you snap. "Alastor, what the fuck! OUT."

Alastor, who has been turned away from you, spins to face you aghast that you'd speak to him in such a manner as you never have before, only to quickly cover his eyes. You were standing in the privacy of your bedroom, almost entirely naked except for those flimsy bottoms you called your underwear. Alastor swallows thickly at the sight of your bare skin, even when you wrap your blanket around your body. He feels lightheaded.

"My apologies, dearest. Ta-ta!" In a plume of smoke, Alastor fades out of the room. By the time he returns to his radio tower, he's gasping with his palm covering his face which was now nearly as red as his hair. He's ashamed he hadn't shown more decorum and instead witnessed you in such a state. Even when angry with him, you had never looked more alluring.

Lucifer swung by the hotel rather unexpectedly, surprising Charlie with a new plant for her bedroom and crushing Maggie into a huge hug! The place was really coming along, he had to admit. There was a more inviting atmosphere to the hotel now since it was rebuilt. It almost felt cozy.

"Dad, what brings you by?" Charlie smiles, carefully handing the plant over to Vaggie.

Lucifer smiles. "I'm here to pick up a friend for a little coffee date and I figured I'd say hi to my favorite daughter and my favorite soon-to-be daughter-in-law!" He coos, squishing Charlie's cheeks between his gloved hands.

On queue, you're walking down the stairs into the foyer. "Lucifer!" You beam, a large smile crossing your cheeks. His tummy flutters at the sight. The outfit you had on was darling, suiting you to a T.

A crackle of static explodes into the front lobby, the Radio Demon taking form between you and the Morningstars. Alastor's eyes immediately narrowing at the unwelcomed guest, at least in his mind.

Laughing nervously, Charlie wedges herself between her father and friend. The air rippled with electricity as the two stared the other down.

"Okay, you two, calm down. Let's not start anything, ok?" She glances at Vaggie for help who simply shrugs her shoulders; setting Charlie's new plant baby aside. Approaching slowly you stand by Lucifer's side. Placing a hand on the King's shoulder, Alastor nearly explodes with radio feedback. An eerie green glow consuming his form.

Static voice dripping with malice spits out, "You're going out with him." It wasn't a question.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you nod at Alastor. "We're going out for coffee."

The Radio Demon is practically seething with venomous rage--not at you, but at the puny little shortstack of a King who thinks he can meddle with those in his life. "You don't deserve their attention, Morningstar."

Lucifer balks. "You had your chance, pal! You snooze, you lose." Alastor's expression turns to one of confusion.

"What do you mean?" The radio filter is gone from his voice.

Snarling, Lucifer glowers at him. "They were in love with you! And now I'm here to pick up the pieces-- oh, fuck, you didn't tell him did you, sweetling?" His gaze is gentle as he regards you. You're begging for the ground to swallow you up.

Fighting back tears, you fidget on the spot. You're looking everywhere but at the two men who have held your heart captive. There was the love you held for Alastor, pure and genuine. How you got together like pieces of a puzzle. And then there was your love for Lucifer, intimate and loving. He was able to teach a part of you that you'd long forgotten. He helped you smile again.

Alastor shoves Lucifer out of the way, his clawed hands cupping your face. He wipes away those tiny tears with a gentleness no one in the hotel had seen. "Je t'aime tellement, mon cour."

Lucifer, now in his Full Demon form, shoves Alastor aside and grasps your arm. You let out a cry of pain, making the two males jump. With the appearance of his full form his claws had accidentally sunk too deep into your skin. Red leaked from the four deep gashes slashed across your skin, staining the sleeve of your lovely shirt. Your pretty eyes pooling with tears.

Like a true beast, Alastor explodes into his demonic form, arms outstretched to shield you behind him. Lucifer can only fixate on the blood dripping down your arm. Vaggie and Charlie are tugging you away while Husk prepares the First-Aid kit.

Lucifer is only able to stare at the tiny pool of blood you had left behind and the pain in his eyes. And then there was Alastor, ever the gentleman, always the one fighting for your honor, looking damn well ready to devour the entire fucking Earth for you.

And Lucifer felt he deserved whatever he had coming to him. His own words echo in his head: "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagines #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #cherubfae 2024

[alastxrs]

Hii,i was wondering if you could do Alastor x m!reader,the reader is Alastor first crush when he was alive.

And he saw the reader in hell his feeling didn’t change after years ‼️‼️

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

❝𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!❞

Alastor turned his head when Mimzy made her way toward him, he placed the glass of whiskey down and the two of them hugged for a split second.

"Mimzy! How are ya, my dear?" The taller man was a gentleman as he allowed the shorter woman to have a grasp on his arm. "Been a while."

The young woman smiled brightly as she looked at her friend. "I've been doing well! Are you still doing those broadcasts?"

"Yes, I am! My broadcasts are getting quite famous."

"That's great!"

The two friends laughed as they caught up on what was going on in their life. Alastor didn't mind having a conversation with Mimzy since he had no plans and he wasn't going to disrespect her by walking away, it felt good to talk to someone he knew actually. He didn't plan to do any broadcast until tomorrow.

Mimzy leaned her cheek against the palm of her hand while the two of them began drinking whiskey. "One of these days, you have to show your face to your viewers."

Alastor laughed as he tilted his head. "Sorry dear, but this face was made for radio."

Though, while the two were talking, something caught the taller man's attention.

He placed his glass of whiskey down as a young (h/c) haired man walked up onto the stage.

He was speechless as the strange man helped one of the singers.

The short woman followed his gaze and grinned. "That's our newest sweetheart, Y/N," she spoke, the interest that he had on her new coworker interested her a lot. "He's also one of your fans, I catch him listenin to your broadcasts when he's on break."

"He's a pretty boy." The brown-haired man hummed, he had no clue about the blush on his cheeks.

"You like him?"

"Dear, I haven't even met him."

Mimzy raised her hand as she grinned at the boy, who was finally walking away from the stage. "Y/N, Darling! I want to introduce you to someone~!" she called out to him with a grin on her face.

The smile on his face vanished as his heart started racing yet he shook his head.

His heart rate kept speeding up the second the pretty boy was standing in front of them now. "Yes Mimzy?" the sound of his voice matched his face and he didn't know how to stop the feelings that he had.

He looked at the bartender to get him another glass of whiskey.

"Y/N, this is Alastor." The shorter woman introduced as she gently moved him closer to the slightly shorter man.

The way his (E/C) colored eyes lit up at the sound of his name and the smile on the other's lips made his heart skip a beat.

Y/N held out his hand and he took it. "Pleasure to be meetin you, darling." He spoke softly to him.

Alastor wanted to know everything about this man. He hoped that this wouldn't be the last time they interacted, the taller man had no clue what he was feeling but it was something that he didn't want to disappear.

"The pleasure is all mine, cher."

Mimzy left knowing that she had done her wing-woman job.

They were with each other whenever they could and Y/N was one of the only people that had ever been inside of Alastor's studio.

Those two would be together til death do them part.

"....And of course those two were closer than Al and myself. " Mimzy hummed after remembering the story of how she introduced the Radio Demon and her sweet co-worker, who were currently talking to each other while making their way toward the kitchen. "I wouldn't be surprised if old Alastor hasn't confessed yet."

Angel had to think for a moment while everyone of them watched the two Overlords talking. "Now I understand why he almost killed me for flirting with Y/N..." he muttered.

Husk rolled his eyes as he moved the empty glass away from the shorter woman.

Nifty hummed as she spoke. "I'm pretty sure they are-" She was cut off by the slightly taller short haired demon who shook her head. "If they were together, they would have been obvious about it."

Mimzy was only surprised that Alastor and Y/N had found each other before she had found either of them.

"I find them cute," Charlie hummed as she smiled. "I say we should help them-"

Everybody at the bar grew quiet at the sight of Y/N kissed Alastor on the cheek and the Radio Demon wrapping an arm around the other demon.

"....Holy shit." Angel covered his mouth while Mimzy had an annoyed look on her face.

"YOU BOTH WERE TOGETHER THIS WHOLE TIME AND NEVER TOLD ME?! WHAT THE FUCK! I INTRODUCED YALL!"

A laugh escaped Y/N's lips while Alastor rolled his eyes with the same smile on his lips but the two of them left the room not giving a care in the world.

They had been together before they died.

They were perfect for each other.

#hazbin hotel #x male reader #alastor x reader #alastor x male reader #alastor #hazbin hotel mimzy #hazbin hotel rosie #vox #charlie morningstar #vaggie #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel husk

[m0nsterqzzz]

Happy Wife Happy Life

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

pairing: Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

summary: being Clarisse's "wife" will always have it's perks

a/n: honestly don't know how to feel about this but I'm tired. anyway, kinda hate the ending. and my writing lol.

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

Love is the greatest thing.

At least, in your eyes it is.

It can bring the strongest people to their knees, risking their lives or others lives just so that they can keep their person happy. It's always been amazing to you.

Not so much in your best friend Clarisse's. She'd much rather have the glory of being the strongest kid in school, or be feared by your classmates. "Love is stupid." She always tells you while she watches you study under the willow tree she likes climbing.

"No, it's not. It's powerful. You like powerful things don't you?" You'd say back with an airy laugh, then forcing her to come back down from the branches so you can help her with her math homework.

She's heard lots about the emotion called jealousy, but she'd never truly felt it until she saw Holly Bracken kiss your cheek during recess one day. The tightening of the chest, the way her throat went dry and she clenched her fist by her side from the other end of the black top and tried to stop herself from throwing the basketball in her hands towards the blonde girl's head. It wasn't a feeling Clarisse liked, and the feeling only went away when you were laying in her arms under the tree after school that day.

That warm afternoon, she'd asked you to marry her with a paper ring, one that you cherished for a whole week until it got caught in something and broke. You'd obviously said yes, the fact that you had a huge crush on her not exactly helping as you forced yourself to remember she was obviously kidding. Sealing the marriage with I do and then placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand like she'd seen done in the romantic movies her mother likes watching, you were officially hers. As long as you were her wife, Holly Bracken could no longer kiss your cheek with that ugly smug smile.

She went on to make sure of that, introducing you as her wife to anyone and everyone that was willingly to listen. You two were young, and nobody took it quite seriously until she saved up almost a full year's allowance money to buy you a nice looking- but still cheap- promise ring from the jewelry store downtown. It was a silent promise, one that she eventually voiced as you were sleeping over at her house.

"I'll be with you forever." She'd whispered in your ear, and you foolishly believed her.

She was gone three weeks later.

You didn't get a phone call, an email, or even a letter. She just....disappeared.

Her family stopped answering the door for you, seemingly purposefully avoiding you in town. It was months before you finally gave up, and it was obvious to anyone that looked hard enough you were slowly becoming a shell of yourself without her. Without your girl.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The only thing in your life that is weirder than Clarisse's mysterious disappearance, was the fact that a boy just told you you're a child of one of the Greek gods. You couldn't believe him. You'd learned about the gods in school, but there was no fudging way they were real. You'd only finally agreed to go to some place called Camp Half Blood when he rolled up one of his pant legs to reveal furry goat legs. Nothing will ever be weirder than that.

Just in time too, because right after you left the school building and started sprinting towards the forest across from the place, some giant winged creature that no one else seemed to see crashed through a window and started flying towards you.

Your protector, someone you learned is a satyr named Joey, lead you to camp with minimal death, which you learned is very rare when it comes to leading a demi-god to camp. It didn't help with the newly installed fear inside you, but you just simply nodded along with what he was saying as your eyes scanned the crowds of campers that are doing their own thing below the hill you stand on.

The moment you step past what Joey calls Thalia's tree, all eyes are on you. A new camper means special events so they feel welcome which means more fun for the campers and the drama of figuring out who their godly parent is. 

You don’t have any belongings other than the clothes on your skin and the school pencil that’s brought you a strange sense of comfort on your long trip. A female camper with blonde hair and gray eyes comes up and introduces herself as Annabeth, helping you to the “Hermes” cabin to give you a camp t-shirt and new pants. She explains all the new campers go there, at least until they get claimed, which means the kids in there are either children of Hermes, unclaimed, or new just like you. 

Since everyone is gone doing daily activities, you decide to just change in the cabin. It’s peaceful, the sound of campers laughter, birds in the trees.

Your blissful silence is broken when someone tightly wraps their arms around you from behind you and lifts you up in the air with a squeal, your hands flying to cover your bra-covered chest. “What the hell?!” You scream, but the profanities you were going to yell out die down in your throat when the person sets you down and you turn around to see Clarisse.

She doesn’t look much different, her hair a little bit grown out and her band t-shirts and jeans have been replaced by camouflage pants and an orange camp half blood shirt similar to the one you’re trying to put on. You’re so starstruck that you just stare, her arms still loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand there in only a bra and jeans. “Clar?” She nods, grinning brightly as she pulls you into yet another hug.

You’re much more aware this time, pushing her away harshly as you hurry to put on the shirt and then leave the cabin with a quick roll of your eyes. The curly haired girl is hot on your tail, attempting to grab your wrist to stop you before you pull it away as if she’s burned you. Her face is full of hurt, but your voice shows the same amount as you ask, “Why didn’t….why didn’t you call? Or email? Or-or send me a fucking letter? Just to let me know you were okay? That you came here.”

She sighs, eyes full of regret as they fall to look at her doc martens so she doesn’t have to see your sadness. “I couldn’t call you because a phone call is like sending a message out to any monsters that could be listening and find out where we are. Email, I don’t have any electronics cuz of the whole call thing.”

“And letter? I bet monsters don’t know how to read Clar.” The girl is silent for a minute, and as the silence continues is when you realize she doesn’t have an answer for you. You scoff, beginning to walk to who knows where again before she runs to catch up with you.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was scared. Gods, I was scared.” The worlds tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, and the campers around you fall silent as they stare with mouths agape in shock.

“Scared? What’s there to be scared of? It’s just me.” She nods, wordlessly reaching out to hold your hand. You let her this time and she feels relief flood through her. “Scared. I was scared….scared that you would hate me for leaving. I mean, what kind of woman leaves her wife?” She attempts a small laugh, and she takes it as a win that the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in the start of a smile. “I promised you forever and then left without another word. You had been looking at me through rose colored glasses our entire lives, I was scared those glasses were shattered. It’s not an excuse though. I should’ve sent you a letter, told you I was okay and told you how much I missed you.”

A small smile works its way onto your face, but she can still see the sadness in your eyes and she hates it. She hates it when you're sad. “Come here angel.” The girl hesitantly pulls you into her arms, almost crying when you relax into her hold and hug her back before she remembers where you guys are and how many campers are staring in shock at how sweet she’s acting.

“You have to understand that I’m still mad Clar. Even if you were scared, I spent years living in fear you were dead.” You mumble against her shoulder as you grip onto her like she’s going to disappear again if you let go.

The girl nods in agreement, cradling your head to her chest as she glares at the campers in an attempt to get them to leave you two alone. They do it.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse brings you to her cabin, cuddling with you in her bed as she tells you anything and everything that has happened over the past. She’s a child of Ares, and you spend several minutes that it makes sense after the amount of times she threatened other kids by saying she should hang them from the top of the flagpole. 

By dinner time, it’s like no time has passed, and everyone’s eyes are on you as you two walk in with her arm casually placed on your around the back of your waist as she leads you to her table where her siblings are trying not to make fun of her. After a lot of begging and threats, Chiron agreed to let you sit at the Ares table for your first week at camp. “Hey guys.” Her happy tone is a rare one around her by the look on their faces, the smile even rarer as she sits you down next to her spot on the bench. “This is my wife.”

The whole room goes silent, all eyes trained on you as your eyes dart up to stare at her. “What are you-” She cuts you off with amusement dancing in her brown eyes.

“What do you want to eat, honey?” Clarisse asks you, and a son of Ares you know as Mark scoffs before he says, “The last time I asked you to get me food, you poured your drink in my lap and told me it wasn’t your job.”

The smile falls from your friend's face as she glares at him. “That’s because it isn’t my job.”

“Then why are you getting her food?” 

“Because a happy wife equals a happy life alright? Now shut the fuck up.”

The smile is back as she turns to face you again, taking your order before she leaves to get that and her own food. 

The rest of the campers go back to their meals, though they’re clearly gossiping about Clarisse’s supposed wife as they eat. It doesn’t make you feel very happy, but all the doubt is gone as your girl comes back and sits down next to you, setting the food down before her hand falls to hold your hand under the table the way she used to during lunch at school.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A little bit later, you finish eating and join in the group of campers leaving the dining hall towards the campfire with Clarisse walking beside you. “My legs hurt.” You mumble while leaning closer to her. She doesn’t miss a beat as she picks you up bridal style, casually carrying you to the bonfire like you weigh absolutely nothing. Smiling at the sound of your laughter, she sets you down on one of the logs surrounding the fire. “What was that for? I could’ve walked.” You say as she sits down next to you before pulling you into her lap.

“What kind of wife would I be if I let you walk around while in pain?” She grins before leaning her head on your shoulder. She seems happy, and you recently learned she hasn’t felt that way in a very long time so you simply smile before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her fingers lace with yours, her thumb caressing the back of your hand as she talks to her brother. It’s like no time has passed. Although you’re still upset, it’s nice to have her again.

Clarisse makes you guys some smores, a few people coming up every once and a while to introduce themselves and your friend introduces you the same way every time; “This is my wife.” By the time you’re making your way to the Hermes cabin with her walking by your side like a bodyguard, everyone in camp is aware of the “marriage”.

“I wish you could come stay in the Ares cabin.” She mumbles into the crook of your neck on the porch of Hermes cabin, and you chuckle while rubbing circles on her back. “I think you annoyed Chiron enough for one day.”

The daughter of Ares sighs, reluctantly nodding as she gives you a gentle squeeze before walking away. You watch her walk to her cabin for a few seconds, a permanent smile on your face before you walk inside your crowded cabin.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The next morning, it’s time for you to join in the routine of chores and training. It seems tiring, but Clarisse is by your side to help you with anything and everything so it’s okay.

“You’re getting better, hon.” She repeats for the 100th time in an hour, and your trust in her words is slowly fading as you sling the sword in your hands awkwardly towards the dummy covered in greek armor in front of you. The girl seems to notice your mood dropping, so she sighs and then stands up and walks towards you. You think she’s going to tell you to take the armor off just stop trying, but you shouldn't have. Clarisse was never one to tell you to give up on something. Instead, she places her hands on your hips, brown eyes straying from your face as she gently moves your body until you're standing in the correct way. You feel like clay under her grip, simply allowing her to position you as your face scans her features. 

It’s like something pulling you to lean in, and it’s only when you're inches away from her face do you realize she is leaning in too. As if realizing where you are and what you guys are doing, she clears her throat and backs away, her hands following to rest at her sides. “There. Try again.” She begins to awkwardly walk away, her confidence gone as she almost trips over some armor left on the floor by another camper.

You nervously laugh, taking a deep breath before you slash the sword forward again. The sword feels much more natural in your hand, and it’s almost like an instinct as you angle it so it hits the unprotected parts so it cuts open the material. 

Your friend cheers, rushing over to you and easily lifting you off the ground like you just won the olympics. Clarisse has always been that way, proud of every thing  you could ever do. With a small laugh, you thank her and finally get her to set you down. “Well done wifey.” The words flow out of Clarisse’s mouth like they’re the most natural thing, and you fake an annoyed sigh.

“You know I’m not your wife right?” You say with a laugh, but she clearly doesn’t find it very funny.

“Then what's this?” Her hand moves to grab your hand, holding it up in front of your face and you try to ignore the way butterflies explode in your stomach from the touch as her eyes lock on yours. With rose colored cheeks- you decide to blame it on the heat and not the feeling of her hand in yours- you finally take notice of what she’s talking about; the ring she bought you when you were kids, snuggly placed on your left hand ring finger. It was a bit too big when you guys were younger, but it fits basically perfectly now.

“It’s a promise ring.” You mumble, walking away to take off the armor and put away the sword. “It’s the closest thing to a wedding ring I could get. And besides, red is my favorite color, the jem is red. It’s basically me, in a ring.” “I didn’t understand a single thing you just said.”

Clarisse sighs, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind the same way she did your first day at camp- though this time she doesn’t lift you up. “Sorry. Let me summarize. You’re my wife, and that is your ring.” You chuckle, turning around in her arms and trying not to think about the way you’re so close you can feel her warm breath on your face. “Fine. I’m your wife.” She takes the win, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek before she makes her way out of the training grounds to go wash up for lunch.

This girl is gonna be the death of you.

 -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, Clarisse sneaks into the Hermes cabin. She’s used to sneaking out, but she’s never had a reason to sneak into this specific cabin and she almost bursts out laughing when she gets through the window and almost steps on a kid laying on a sleeping bag on the floor. 

She easily manages her way through the sleeping kids to get to your bunk in the corner, cringing every once and a while when floor boards creek. You’re awake, staring at the wall and you reach under your pillow to grab a dagger Annabeth gave you when someone puts a hand on your shoulder and tries to shake you away so you can hold it up against their neck.

“Why the hell do you have a knife to my throat?” Clarisse quietly squeaks out, and you sigh in relief before putting the weapon back under your pillow for safe keeping. “I just…I’m sorry.” You think about telling her about the nightmare you were having not even ten minutes ago, but it looks like she’s already aware of it as she sends you knowing eyes.

“You can make it up to me by following me.” One look into her pleading eyes is all you need to reluctantly agree, and she helps you out of the window and then onto her back so she can carry you to the surprise she set up in the forest.

The sight makes you want to grin and cry at the same time; it’s a picnic set on the cliff overlooking the waterfall you told her was your favorite part of camp, all your favorite foods from the outside world placed accordingly on the blanket. There are little lanterns placed all over, lighting up this specific part of the woods. You can clearly see the stars, one of your favorite things, and the cozy feeling of the date-like setting goes against the summer breeze of the night.

“So? What do you think?” Clarisse nervously asks as you look around in awe. “I….I love it Clar.” You reply, pulling her into a tight hug. “How’d you get all these foods?” You quest with a grin. She innocently shrugs, but she’s got a mischievous look in her eyes that only appears when she does something bad. She won’t tell you that she snuck out of camp the same way she snuck out of her cabin to go to the mortal world, sneaking back in a throwing herself into a bush when Mr. D almost caught her.

She sits down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her and then pulling you into her lap when you sit down. “This is so nice….but why?” “Why?” “Why’d you do it?”

Clarisse chuckles; “Because my wife deserves best.” There it is again, the phrase that brings a blush to your face no matter how many times you hear it. “Well, thank you.” She nods, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and taking a hesitant bite before humming in satisfaction. “That’s really good.”

You two spend the rest of the night talking and giggling as you cuddle up to her and eat the delicious foods, and by the end of the night you’re lying with your head in her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair. “One day,” She starts, leaning down to kiss your forehead before she continues speaking; “I’m gonna marry you for real.”

With a small laugh, you nod, staring into her brown eyes as you sigh. “I’m okay with that.” You whisper, and for a second it seems like she’s leaning down again. It’s proven she is when her lips connect with yours. Her lips are slightly chapped since she always forgets to put on chapstick before she leaves the cabin, but that doesn’t matter as she’s kissing you like she’s been starved for years. Technically, she has been.

She pulls away, watching with a nervous smile as you attempt to catch your breath and stare up at her in awe. “Was that-was that okay?” You slowly nod, sitting up and then turning to face her before you grab her face in your hands and kiss her once again. She seems surprised, but she quickly adapts as her hands move to your hips and firmly grip them.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day you agreed to be my wife.” She whispers as she pulls away and leans her forehead on your own. You giggle, giving her a quick kiss in between love sick giggles. “Me too.”

She begins to talk again, but the sound of hooves galloping near and a loud voice calling out, “Who's there?!” makes her panic. Chiron. You panic as well, and you both messily pick up the empty plates and blanket, shoving it all in the basket and taking your hand in the one that isn't holding the basket.

The galloping is getting closer, and you both begin to run back into the forest- on the way back to camp but still in the opposite direction of Chiron.

You both begin to laugh as you almost trip over a branch, and you have to bite your lip and hold a hand over Clarrise's mouth so Chiron won't hear. 

You eventually make it back to the cabins, and you both slow down to a light jog as you near the Hermes cabin. She brings you back to the still open window, and helps lift you up into the slightly cold room. You take off your shoes, and are about to wish her a goodnight and go to bed when you turn around to see her lips playfully puckered. 

You chuckle, walking back to the window and giving her a small peck on the lips. “Goodnight Clar. and thank you for a wonderful night.” She smiles. “It was only wonderful because you were there. Goodnight angel.” With that, she leaves towards her own cabin, and you're left staring at her leave with a love sick smile and look in your eyes.

At the edge of the forest, Chiron watches the sweet goodnight with a small smile. “Well I'll be damned….Clarisse La Rue is a softy.” He begins walking to his own cabin with a content sigh. “But they better not sneak out again.”

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

#clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #pjo x reader

[velocesainz]

Hii!

Could you possibly do a Percy Jackson smut with Percy fucking the brat out of reader, his rival? Rough sex with degrading and praise pls and ty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

A/n:This was quite an interesting request for me to write, thank you for the idea! All character have been aged up (19-20)

More than rivalry

Percy jackson masterlist | main masterlist

Summary: Percy gets jealous seeing you (his rival) with another boy and decides to fuck you to make sure you remember that you are his but you end up being too cocky for his liking

Warnings: smut, degradation

Pairing: Percy x daughter of Zeus! Reader

Reader pov:

I was practising my archery skills with some Apollo kids and we were actually having a lot of fun

Over the time I had spent Robert over the past few days perfecting my archery we both really grew close together

He was one of the very few people at camp who were actually friends with me for me and not because I was Zeus’s daughter.

While we were training I clumsily fell over a rock and was about to go crash into the ground but Robert caught me in time.

We stayed in the position for a little bit not knowing what to do.

We looked at each other with soft and gentle eyes, like how friends would rather than people who like each other though it seemed otherwise to most.

It was a sweet moment we both were trying to savour when a bellowing voice split us apart

“Oi thunder witch! What are you doing, let the poor guy out of his misery and do some practising on your own yea?” Yelled the voice that I really didn’t want to hear right now

Percy motherfucking Jackson

“Ocean ass how about you go bother someone else. He’s here with me at his own will for your kind information. Care more about your friends yea?” I retorted

I wanted to leave the arena as fast as possible so I bid Robert goodbye and left for my cabin

Percy pov:

Crisis averted.

I didn’t let Robert and y/n have their moment.

Why the fuck out of all the girls here does Robert have to go for y/n?

He has like a hundred girls dying for him.

Doesn’t he know she’s mine?

I know we seem like enemies but I wish to fuck like every second of the day at this point

She’s just so beautiful and that attitude damn.

I had a plan to get y/n away from every other guy, not just Robert.

Reader pov:

I was sitting in my cabin reading a book when I heard a knock on my door

That’s odd, I thought

Nobody was usually free at this hour in the evening

Everyone was too busy scheming for capture the flag except me of course

I wasn’t allowed to participate along with Percy since we were a tad bit overpowered

I walked over and opened the door and before I could figure out who it was they shoved me against the wall and started kissing me

I pushed the figure away and tried to run but they caught me

“Don’t try to run bitch. You need to be taught a lesson. Now be a good little slut and listen to what I say or the consequences will be severe for you” the figure whispered in my ear.

Then I realised who it was

Percy.

I was feeling cocky today so I decided to tease him a little

“You sure you can be intimidating and dominating seaweed brain? I don’t think you can even satisfy me forget punishing me”I replied with a smirk gracing my features

“Oh you asked for this whore. By the time I’m done with you you will be so dumb for my cock that you won’t even remember your name. Just you wait “ he said in a Husky voice which turned me on more than I would like to admit

He started removing my clothes as fast as he could and I couldn’t help but sneak in a cheeky comment

“Desperate are we?” Boy oh boy was this a bad decision

“I’m going to fuck that cocky attitude right out of you. You really just can’t keep your mouth shut can you whore?” Percy said and threw me in my bed

Undressing himself he got on the bed and made his way towards me like a predator approaching its prey

He moved my panties to the side and roughly shoved his cock inside me without any warning

“A-ah p-p-Percy that hurts sto-“ I was cut off by a slap I received

“Shut the fuck up slut. You were the one who was acting all cocky just a few minutes ago. Bitches like you don’t deserve to be cared for” Percy panted as he continued thrusting in and out

His pace was ungodly. He kept thrusting in and out of me letting my pussy drink up his cock

I felt like I was losing my mind as he hit my g-spot repeatedly completely abusing it

“O-oh fuck your pussy is tight. G-gods I’m going to come. Ah yea just like that” He whispered huskily

“I am going to cum too Percy” I told him

“No no. You don’t get to cum you little slut. You’ve been a really back whore for me. You don’t get to cum today, deal with it yourself” Percy said as he came in me

He got dressed quickly and left leaving me a panting and unsatisfied mess

Goddamit jackson.

A/n: let me know if you guys liked this fic or if you have any feedback! Requests are still on hold unfortunately but they’ll be opened soon. Kissies ✨

#percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson smut #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you

[the-daydreaming-show]

❝baby mine, don't you cry❞ — Richard “Dick” Grayson

jason's version

The arrival of your first child and the chaotic energy he brings into your life (which is saying a lot, why chaos is a part of you). So imagine the gray hair you obtained thanks to your First Joy.

NOTE:

People forget that as Dick was a troublesome little sh*t and he still is. We love him but he is the chaotic son and @igotmessymind agrees with me!!!

This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that i have create. I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

WARNINGS: Dick's parents die; a boy who is very angry with the world; a very stressed new mother (you); Bruce is there, but that's not what this story is about, but he is a good father in this world.

Technically, the first time you met Dick was directly after his parents died, but he wouldn't remember that until he was an adult. And you never counted that as your first interaction with your boy because of the tragedy of the whole scenario.

You and Bruce had gone to the circus that day in the subtlest way a Wayne could go anywhere. It was a date night, one that both of you had recently defined as mandatory every week. First so that Bruce could have a break, and second because that way you guys started spending time together somewhere other than the batcave. Something that, according to Alfred, you both desperately needed as a couple.

You two were in the front row when Mary and John Grayson plummeted to their deaths in the middle of their circus act, leaving a horrified ten-year-old Dick. The boy's scream was something that, even years later, if you closed your eyes, you could still hear with terrifying clarity. Once the tent was evacuated and the crime scene isolated by the GCPD, the newly promoted Captain Jim Gordon arrived and, before you left, he very subtly approached you and your husband. He asked you if you could do something for the child. The forensics team will arrive at any moment now, and they will have to uncover the bodies. Nobody couldn't get Dick to move or to react in any way, and Jim wanted to spare the boy seeing his parents like this more than he already had.

Jim had been aware of your and your husband's identities for a while, so the request didn't surprise you. To the contrary, you quickly agreed. He took you back to the tent. Dick had been lowered from the platform, but he remained curled up in a ball on the floor, next to where the bodies of his parents were covered in white sheets, which were turning redder from day to day. Little with each passing moment. You approached him, with the most delicate step possible, and placed a hand on his hundred, entering his mind gently and gently guiding his consciousness out of the shock of the situation. It was superficial magic that didn't get you into the boy's mind very much, just enough to help him and not force him. In a few seconds the boy's head snapped up, and you let Jim quickly take control of the situation, allowing one of his detectives to guide you back out of the closed area, then back to your husband. 

You had to help your husband out of his own shock that same night, forcing him to stay home and not go out as Batman, without accepting any complaints. Alfred helped, agreeing with the idea immediately. The death of the Grayson's in front of his own son was something that came very close to Bruce's heart, too many buried memories that arose uncontrollably.

The first official meeting that both of you remember is almost two weeks later. After you and Bruce had decided to take care of little Dick into your own hands. All because you find out how the boy kept sneaking out of the houses where the state put him at least once a day since that fateful night.

“Dick, this is my beautiful wife, y/n Wayne” Bruce introduced them both that day when the boy arrived with his suitcase and his eyes wide open, surprised by all the luxury that Wayne Manor represents. Smile at yourself and look briefly at your husband in reproach for his choice of words. He just shrugged, not at all sorry for his words. It's the truth. You ARE beautiful, and you are MY wife, he thought in his defence, knowing you would listen. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the child between the two of you.

“It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne” The boy said suspiciously, but politely, not believing how good the situation looked for him and not trusting you or your husband at all.

“It's nice to meet you too, Dick” you told him, smiling sweetly “No need to be so formal, just call me y/n, it's fine”

Dick's mind couldn't stop thinking about how pretty you were. The way you were sweet in that first meeting was bittersweet for him, because he reminded him of his own mother, of that affection that she used to give him and that he would never receive from her anymore.

“Lunch is almost done” you tell him as you lean a little more towards Bruce for support, “Are you hungry?. Alfred prepared a buffet just to welcome you” you explained trying to push those thoughts away for now, you desperately wanted him to feel good and comfortable there.

“Alfred?” the boy asked, confused.

“Our butler” Bruce explained 

“He's more like family than anything” you clarified, “Like a grumpy grandpa who won't let you touch the stove without breathing over your shoulder” you teased a bit.

“Did he say my name, Mistress y/n?” said the aforementioned, coming from the kitchen and looking at you accusingly.

“No, not at all” you denied it and Dick couldn't help but smile a little at the mischief, to which you winked at him and offered your hand.

“Come on, let me show you the dining room” you invited him and the boy left your hand dangling for a moment, thinking about his next move. But, since you didn't stop smiling or offering him your hand, Dick decided to take it last, mainly because he was hungry.

Dick let you guide him, serve him food. He talked to you a bit during the meal until Bruce had to go to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting, then you showed him the mansion and his room. You promised him that you would go shopping this week to decorate it to his liking so that he would feel more comfortable.

During that week was the honeymoon phase.

The social worker you and Bruce had meetings with before Dick arrived explained about the phase. It's when everything seems perfect and the child shares his best manners. Either out of fear of how you would react. Or hoping to see how long your stay in the house would last, if it's worth getting used to or not. But the act would end sooner or later.

And it was exactly one week later (a Tuesday to be exact), the day after Dick started attending his new school, that the boy act ended and the adjustment phase officially began.

“This stage is the most difficult, so I need you to be prepared for it, especially in a case like Richard's” the social worker explained to both of you with seriousness. You had taken every word she gave you with like it was the bible, but at the end you still weren't ready when it started and everything that happened hit you like a truck.

You were in your studio in downtown Gotham, having a meeting with the designers who work with you and discussing that winter's new clothing collection for the brand. When Nina, your personal assistant, enters the office after timidly knocking on the door with a worried face.

“Mrs. Wayne” she called out to you, to which you look at her, smiling kindly upon seeing her “I know that you asked me not to bother you unless it was an emergency” she said, remembering what you had told her, you frowned immediately worried, because Nina was extremely effective and if she was there it was because it was genuinely an emergency “Gotham Academy is on call, it's about your son” she told you, and you immediately called off the meeting before leaving on the phone.

It turned out that not only had the school called, but GCPD had called Bruce around the same time.  Dick, your only ten-year-old boy, had run away from school and ended up being found in Crime Alley by an officer who recognised him from the news.  The officer in turn informed Jim Gordon, knowing the proximity to the Wayne's, and he gave the order to bring the boy to his office in the centre of the city, to then call your husband.  You never knew what god to thank for Dick that would have been found by one of the few good cops in Gotham, but you did anyway.

“What is he thinking?” you asked worriedly while talking on the phone with Bruce, already on your way to the police station, with Alfred driving, “Anything could have happened to him.  If he didn't want to go to school he could have said, he insisted on starting this week, I don't understand!-” you stopped, passing your hand over your eyes and sighing heavily.

“That was probably the point, love” Bruce said softly. “He wanted you to leave him at school and not think about the matter anymore.  It is likely that his plan would have always been to escape, surely he would have done the same yesterday if he had not been assigned a partner for his first day” he explained to you, his voice accompanied by the movement of papers on the desk in his own office.

The day before, which had been Dick's first day of school since the death of his parents, the school had assigned one of its older students to guide him on that day, so he had been watched all day. But that day had been different, and your son had gotten up in the bathroom in the middle of the first class, and had not returned to the classroom. So the school had called you when they realised the boy was missing.  And Jim had called Bruce shortly after when the patrolman found him. And Dick had taken a cab to Crime Alley, of all the places.

“He's safe, you need to calm down, love” Bruce continued, getting up from his desk, to walk up to the large windows in his office and look out over the city, as if he could see you from the top of Wayne Tower “We'll talk to him when he gets home, before dinner, but upsetting you like that won't help” he advised you, even though he was just as worried about what had happened.

“Alright, alright” you whispered while taking a deep breath.

At the door of the police station you were met by a uniform who was waiting for Jim's orders, who took you to the captain's office where, sitting with his head down and his arms crossed tightly across his chest, you found Dick. 

“Richard Grayson” you started in a stern tone, walking towards him and crouching down in front of him, to check that he wasn't hurt. “¿What were you thinking?¿Why do you think of getting in Crime Alley alone?” you asked calmly but firmly, looking at me as the boy avoided returning the gesture “Dick, look at me” you insisted, looking for his gaze, but the boy continued to refuse, almost tempted to close his eyes to make his denial clear. 

“Mrs. Wayne” Captain Gordon called to you from his desk, where he had been watching the interaction, and you quickly stood up to greet him.

“Jim, you don't know how much I appreciate you for this. I almost had a heart attack when the school called me to say that Dick was missing” you told him as you shook his hand. 

“Don't worry, your boy was just taking a walk, a bit of a dangerous adventure, but he came out without a scratch” he reassured you while looking at the crestfallen boy sitting next to you, and he did not miss the way your hand trembled slightly “Gomez” the officer who had brought you to the door looked at his boss ready to receive his order “Why don't you take little Dick to get something to eat from the vending machine down the hall?” and his question didn't need an answer. Dick left with Officer Gomez without saying a word, as you watched his back walk away through the glass in the office door.

“Y/n, please, sit down” Jim asked as he approached one of the chairs on the guest side of his desk, sitting down across from you immediately after you did.

“I'm sorry, I just-” You tried to apologise for how upset you were, but the man stopped you with an understanding smile.

“Don't worry, y/n. I was close to an aneurysm the first time my Barbs ran away from school” he told you trying to calm you down, to which you giggled at the thought of the adorable red-haired little girl who was the only daughter of the Gordon family.

“They start younger and younger” you plead, with a mixture of amusement and concern looking at the older man.

“Well this is Gotham, our kids have to grow up faster than others” he explained to you, while he served a glass of water from the jug that he had on his desk “Your butler had the same reaction when I found your husband walking in the same place years ago, shortly after the death of Thomas and Martha” he remembered, offering you the glass, which you accepted with anguish.

“God, he already acts like Bruce, and he hasn't even been with us for two weeks” you lamented, to which Jim couldn't help but chuckle a bit at your concern.

“Welcome to parenthood, your heart gets used to it sooner or later” he comforted you, running his hand down your back reassuringly.

Things got worse before they got better. Dick started running away not only from school, but from home, and he started yelling at you at unexpected times. There was no way for you to figure out what was making him mad because it was different what you did or didn't do every time he started his tantrum.

That was the case for more than two months after the first incident. Alfred told you that Bruce had been the same for a full year after his parents died. Bruce told you it wasn't your fault, despite what the kid was yelling at YOU all the time. But you could do more than feel guilty. You didn't want to fix things with your magic. When you retired you decided that your life could not be what you did with your power, it was more than just your power, and it was time to start accepting it, enjoying it. But you don't know how to help him without that power, either, at least not in a very deep way. So you did the only thing you could think of, you kept offering your hand to little Dickie, even though half the time he seemed to want to bite his hand.

It all came to a head one afternoon after you brought a very angry Dick to Wayne Manor from school. Gotham Academy had called you to talk after he tried to escape again. They informed you that maybe it was time for you and Bruce to look for another school for the boy, since his behaviour was not appropriate for the establishment.

“Dick, we need to talk” you called out to the boy, seeing him run towards the stairs as soon as you closed the front door. Alfred was shopping for dinner and Bruce was at League HQ, so you were the only one to argue with the kid that day “Dick Grayson, come back here, we're going to have a talk about this sooner or later” you said, going after the boy with a calm step, but Dick heard you coming and ran to his room at the moment he made the second floor of the house, slamming the door shut before you managed to finish climbing the stairs.

You sighed heavily as you stopped at the sound of the door slamming. You wanted desperately to go into the room and demand that the boy tell you what was bothering him so much, you wanted desperately to fix whatever was bothering him so much. But you knew you couldn't really fix the source of his problems, even if you had the magical potential to do so. You learned long ago that death is something even you must let take its course, for the sake of the very existence of the whole. You also didn't want to enter the boy's mind with magic, it wouldn't be fair to him to do that, so your options were limited at the end of the day. So you stood there, helpless.

You were having a hard time, not because you didn't want the task of taking care of Dick, but because it was a mixture of situations that seemed unfair to you. First the poor boy lost his parents together in front of his eyes, and he did so after the death of the Scarlet Witch, after you decided it was better to start a life without the chaos magic that characterised you. If the boy had crossed your path a couple of years earlier, neither Mary nor John had fallen to their deaths that day, you would have stopped it right there in that tent of the circus without much thought. But it hadn't been.

Although, you didn't need to read his mind to know one thing: Dick hated you. Totally and intensely. He had made it clear to you on more than one occasion.

And yes, he did. Dick hated everything about you. He hated the way you made his room look like the ideal in his mind of what he wanted. How you personally prepared his lunches for school. How you wore it and personally attracted you everywhere. How you smile with affection, how you patiently accept every insult and scream. I also hated how you tried so hard that he wouldn't notice that Bruce wasn't there much. Or how you always found him when he got lost in the halls. Also, when you brought him cookies and hot chocolate when he couldn't sleep, even though sugar didn't really help him sleep at all. He only made him happy for a while.

Why couldn't you be like the wicked stepmothers of the stories? 

It would be easier for him.

He hated the way you loved him, because it made him want his mom back, and it made him remember that she was gone, it made him want to accept you and Bruce as his family too. But he didn't need a new family. He necessitated his family, his parents, and his circus friends. He wanted his life back.

He hated you. He hated you. He hated you.

Dick curled up on the bed, with the blankets you personally picked out with him, which were Superman, and hid his head on the pillow. There he remained. At eleven years old, Dick had never been the type to be capricious or suspicious. His parents had always taken pride in saying that his son was very well-behaved and fit in wherever they went with the show. But now he just wanted to hate and never stop doing it, he didn't want anything else because the world was cruel, and it didn't deserve more than his hate. You didn't deserve more than that for being so good that it made him want to feel like before, and it pulled his mind to a better place every time you caressed his hair lovingly and made him feel at home.

That night, after eating the sandwich that Alfred had kindly given him when he refused to come down for dinner, he went to sleep without expecting you to come and say good night, as you had done since he arrived at the mansion. Usually, he didn't go to sleep easily, but his desire to avoid you overcame the fear of his nightmares, so he quickly fell asleep.

You arrived after he began to snore softly, already sunk in sleep. You entered, opening the door as quietly as possible, to see him spread out on his bed, with his pyjamas on, and the sheets almost falling off the bed due to his movements. Likewise, you couldn't help but feel the tenderness warm your heart, thinking to yourself that this should be a good step on the right path, because the boy hadn't slept well since he arrived at the mansion and since before, according to the reports of the social worker. So that he was sleeping at that time was good. You took victory silently and closed the door to the room, using the surface of your powers to close the curtains that let the moonlight into the room before walking away. 

You went down to the cave after that, where Bruce was getting ready to go out for the night.

“How is he?” he asked while putting on his gloves, as soon as he heard you walking out of the elevator.

“He's asleep” you told him with a big smile, happy for the small victory.

“Really?” Bruce asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes” you answer, reaching her side, unable to contain the smile of happiness, for that reason “I know it's not much considering what happened today-” you started, but your husband stopped you by placing his hands on your cheeks affectionately.

“It's a good thing” he assured you, smiling at you, and you kissed his lips lightly “We still need to talk to him tomorrow though” Bruce said, gently breaking your bubble, to which you sighed.

“If it makes you feel any better, Mistress y/n” Alfred began from the chair in front of the batcomputer “I could make you a list of the number of private schools Master Bruce was expelled from before he finally calmed down” he offered to what Bruce rolled his eyes in amusement “It's including Gotham Academy, of course” he clarified with amusement.

The night passed as normally as it could. But around one in the morning you went upstairs to check on Dick, as you always did at night when you stayed in the cave. It was the third time you'd checked, and he'd been fine the first two times, having started snoring louder on each visit.

So you expected to hear the boy snoring when you reached the hallway of his room, instead, you were met with crying. You stopped in place for a moment, because it was the first time you had heard Dick cry since he had arrived at the mansion.

“Mama” the boy cried, half awake and half asleep, “Mama” kept calling between sobs that shook her little body violently.

The most instinctive part of you walked quickly towards the door with a soft step, but the same logic made you stop at the door before even touching the handle, apart from that he told you that the boy was calling for his mom, for Mary. Not for you, he didn't want you. And for a moment you decided that you would not go in, and we let him cry all he needed, and tomorrow you would try to get him to talk about it. It might be a good time to suggest therapy. Yes, that was the best option and the best way to handle the situation.

“Mom, mom” you heard. Now fully awake, Dick continued to sob with his broken heart, and he broke yours with the sound of his cracking voice. So the institute won.

You walked into the room ready to be yelled at almost immediately. But you did it anyway, sure-footed and ready to do whatever it took to make your precious boy stop suffering once and for all. You knew that that would never leave him, but you would still try.

“Dickie, baby” you said as you approached the bed, to sit on the edge of the mattress next to him, running a hand over his back as he continued to cry and sobbed loudly “My joy, it's okay, you're-” and then the force of the child colliding with your chest stopped you.

In the time Dick had been there, he had never allowed you or Bruce or Alfred to get any closer than to hold his hand or stroke his hair. So when the boy threw himself at you crying and hugging your waist as if his life depended on it, he surprised you. He was hugging you as if he was afraid that you would disappear from one second to the next (theoretically you could do that, it was part of your powers, but that wasn't what the boy was afraid of). He sobbed into your chest as his knuckles turned white from clinging to you.

“It's okay, my joy” you comforted him, hugging him back and kissing his hair “Everything will be alright” you promised him, not quite sure what else to say to make him feel better and hugging him tighter to match his strength, so he would understand that you won't be leaving soon

“I want my mum” the boy sobbed, not with an internal intention to hurt you, but as if asking you to do something. You were an adult, you could fix anything, that's what adults do, and the ten-year-old was practically begging you desperately for a solution as he felt.

“Oh, I know, Dickie. I know” you said hugging him tighter “I'm so sorry, baby” you apologised, feeling bad for having no more than words to handle the situation, knowing that nothing will bring that child back to his parents, no matter how much you want to make it happen for him.

You would do anything for that boy. You would destroy yourself, and you would build yourself up again. Not only that, but you would empty out entire universes and kill God himself if necessary. But for now, you just held him while he cried, while he called out to a mother who lay twenty feet under. You knew, at that moment, that there would never be anything you wouldn't do for that boy. And Dick decided that night that maybe you weren't so bad.

Dick Grayson couldn't believe he was standing in the Batcave. He also couldn't believe his adoptive father was Batman. Now he understood why he was always missing for so long, it wasn't that Bruce was ignoring him, it was that he was down there, being a hero for Gotham City. His mind was racing as he walked around the place asking your husband questions and inspecting every nook, artefact, and blemish he found in the place. You and Bruce watched him from a distance, grinning like fools at the uncontrollable excitement of the boy who had long felt like he was your own.

“This is AMAZING” Dick would say whenever something particularly struck him, which means he said it every few seconds.

“See, he told you he would be excited” you told your husband while you took his hand, he smiled at you and brought your clasped hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles affectionately. A silent way of telling you: You were right, love.

“WOW” exclaimed the boy, he was now standing on the platform where the different suits that your husband had used as Batman are displayed “With all due respect, Bruce, but it's good that you left behind the combination of purple and yellow, it was too much” the boy scoffed, pointing at the first suit on display behind him.

“It was the eighties” your husband defended himself with a grimace, rolling his eyes at how similar the comment was to the one you had made the first time you set foot in the cave several years ago. You just laughed as you looked at him, happily remembering that moment.

“Purple looks amazing on you, my love” you assured him, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Very intimidating” you said, to which both you and Dick chuckled, while Bruce continued to regret his fashion decisions.

“I tried to talk him out of it, Master Dick” Alfred commented, joining the bandwagon of teasing Bruce about his old fashion decisions. “But he insisted,” he shrugged gracefully.

“Okay, I'm going to throw him out of my cave if you don't leave my purple suit alone” Bruce complained, to which you and Dick shared an amused look before the boy returned his attention to the suits on display. Alfred smiled as he watched you kiss your husband in compensation, earning me a goofy smile from him, the one the butler had seen a lot since you two got married.

“HOLY SHIT” Dick suddenly exclaimed, to which you and Bruce turned to look at him wearing it, your husband ready to spring into action at your son's exclamation “You've got the Scarlet Witch suit here!!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, looking at your husband in disbelief before running to stand in front of the glass where your old suit is on display. Well, the word suit was an understatement, because it was a red bodysuit, with a belt, the cape, and high boots. An outfit that was not the best choice for fighting, but you never question it too much, because you were always comfortable in yourself and in that outfit, too.

Bruce and you shared a look. It was time to drop the second bomb on the boy. Now you were the one worried about her reaction.

“How did you get it?” Dick asked excitedly, his nose glued to the glass, pawing it with his breath “I thought the Justice League couldn't get her body back from the Dimension of the Damned after she closed the portal to save us” he said, thinking aloud, while analysing the garment.

Up close, he could see the details of the fabric, the way the cloak had a texture and wasn't smooth as it seemed watching it from the television. It was as if magic was embedded in the fabric, and it moved even when she was still on the mannequin. The boy was fascinated, definitely marking this as the best day of his life.

“Well that's true. The League was unable to recover her body after she closed the portal” explained Bruce, as he hugged your waist, pressing his fingers against you at the memory of those events that still haunt him “But the suit is here for its protection, nothing more, it still belongs to its owner” Bruce finished, letting the boy think a little about his words.

“Wait,” Dick said, frowning and turning away from the video, to walk to the railing of the platform. And how do you have it, if she never left the Dimension of the Damned?” the boy frowned, thinking hard that how could it be that this was the original costume.

“It's more like early retirement than death” Dick jumped in place when you appeared next to him, speaking sweetly to him “But yes, the Scarlet Witch never made it out of the Dimension of the Damned” you explained to him, while you crouch in front of him, the boy turned to face you still confused by what he was saying “Dick, do you remember that we told you that we had to tell you a couple of things?” you asked him and the boy quickly nodded “Well first we wanted to tell you that Bruce is Batman, as you already deduced” you pointed to your husband on the lowest platform “And the other one is that I'm-” Before you could say more, Dick squealed with excitement again.

“YOU ARE THE SCARLET WITCH, HOLY FUCK!!” the boy yelled with his eyes as wide as his eyelids would allow.

“Language, Master Dick” Alfred scolded absently from below.

“OH-MY-GOD” The boy yelled again, looking at me as if you were hanging the stars from the sky, throwing himself on you, hugging you with his arms around your neck “I knew you weren't dead, I argued every day with my friends about this, it didn't make sense for YOU to die just like that, no amount of spawn could kill the Scarlet Witch, it's absurd-” The boy began to ramble as you picked him up in your arms, he hug your hips with his legs intuitively, and you walked down with him in your arms. Smiling softly at the boy's excitement, it was Bruce's turn to give you the Told you so look “This is the BEST day of my life” Dick finished his ramblings as you pulled up next to Bruce, with him still sitting on your hip, and proceeded to grab your husband's neck and hug you both tight. The pull made your husband laugh at the boy's sudden outburst. “My parents are the coolest people on the planet next to Superman, this is the best” the boy declared proudly, ignoring the surprised looks you and Bruce shared immediately after that.

It was the first time his parents had called you, and Dick didn't even think about it much longer, it came out of him so naturally that you two didn't say anything else either. You were mom after that and Bruce was dad, as if the boy had forgotten how to say his name from one moment to the next. And he did it with the greatest happiness in the world.

That night, after Bruce went out on patrol, and you dragged a still very excited Dick to bed, as you tucked him into bed, tucking the covers over him, your son's face suddenly scrunched up at a particular thought.

“What's up, Dikie?” you asked, as you ran your hand over her forehead, concerned at the sudden change in expression.

“Weren't Batman and the Scarlet Witch supposed to hate each other?” he asked you confused, looking down with his head tilted from his pillow.

You laughed, relieved and amused by the question.

“That, my boy, is a story for another day”

And that was it.

TAGLIST: If someone wants to be added or removed from this list, they can request it, is OPEN.

@some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @randomboostsofmotivation @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @calsjack

#batmom #all for us #batfam x reader #dick grayson x batmom #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x scarletwitch #scarletwitch!reader #scarletwitch!batmom!reader

[rqgnarok]

standing ovation - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 2321

warnings: mentions of jamie’s dad and DV, spoilers for ted lasso’s mom city. reader uses female pronouns. 

summary: reader sneaks into training grounds after richmond’s win against man city. seeing her is just what jamie needs. 

author’s note at the end!

There’s something in the air.

Jamie’s pretty sure Will sprayed some lavender shit all over the locker room again but that’s not quite what he means– he’s said goodbye to every single one of his teammates and all the coaches– and the locker room is now his and his alone. He locks away his dad’s ghost by locking up his phone, the simple message doing wonders to finish lifting that weight off his shoulders.

He wasn’t at the game. Or maybe he was, Jamie realizes now that it doesn’t really matter. A part of him will never stop looking over his shoulder whenever he visits his hometown for his dickwad of a father, but the older, bigger part of him knows Coach was right– his motivation doesn’t come from hating his dad anymore and it doesn’t have to. His forgiveness is for himself, for the little boy that had to build a mask to save himself from his dad, and for the man he is today because of him– and because of his mum, Keeley, Roy, Ted, his teammates–

The standing ovation at the end was more of a benediction than he’d like to admit. Everything about his hometown made him feel prickly; like he was a virus the town was doing its best to reject, and other than his quick visit to his mom Jamie expected the whole thing to be a disaster. The kids on the street, the people on social media, the rude assholes in the bleachers– Jamie thought that was all he was gonna get. Blind, thoughtless hatred despite Jamie trying his best.

He remembers Roy getting a standing ovation on his last game, while Jamie was still wearing Man City blue. He’d been appalled, unable to discern the possibility of someone hating you so much they respected you. All he’d ever gotten– from his dad, rival teams, his own team– had been everything except respect.

But they’d clapped for him. They thought him deserving of something precious and somehow it feels like permission. He can play for himself. He can come home without his dad’s ghost belittling him for not turning out the way he expected him to. 

Even Manchester hasn’t been home in a long time. Sure, his mom and Simon are there, but Richmond has his family, too– his friends, his teammates, his–

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my boyfriend. 5’9 not quite 6 foot, sexy as hell, the most fantastic football player to ever walk on Earth?”

Jamie’s lips involuntarily twist up as he glances at the door. (Y/N)’s a sight wearing her Richmond TARTT jersey, looking disheveled and flushed like the rest of the city probably is right now after their win tonight. 

Jamie doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the city, though. At least not right now. He cares about his girl sneaking in (with Keeley and Roy’s permission and advice, probably) to see him, normal sleep schedule be damned. 

He laughs, loud and unrestrained joy lighting up his features as he hobbles towards his girlfriend, letting himself be enveloped in a crush-tight embrace.

“Did ya watch it?” he wonders, forgoing his usual shy demeanor whenever (Y/N) praises him and just allowing his excitement to overflow, arms going around (Y/N)’s waist and hoisting her off the ground.

“Did I watch it, he asks,” (Y/N) scoff is downplayed by her big grin and the way she wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck as he spins her around, fucked up ankle be damned. “I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off of you, Jamie, oh, my God–”

She’s kissing him deeply, unable to contain her excitement. 

“You’re so fucking brilliant,” she whispers against his mouth, her hands at the nape of his neck making him shiver into her embrace, unable to get enough. “Oh, Jamie, that assist– the entire play for Colin’s goal? Your goal–”

“It was for you,” he tells as he drops her off, cupping her face in his hands and cheeks hurting with how wide he’s smiling. “I couldn’t celebrate but it was for you. For you and me mum, you were with me on the pitch the whole time–”

He stumbles a little as he drops her on the ground and (Y/N) tenses in his arms. She looks him over, suddenly worried. “Oh, shit. Your ankle, dumbass, are you okay? Fuck, did I–”

“Angel,” the nickname has her melting almost immediately just like he thought it would, a five-word weapon he’s never gotten tired of wielding. (Y/N) pouts at him, still concerned, and Jamie can’t have that, he kisses the expression off her face immediately. It should be illegal for her to be sad, no, sir. “‘s not even a sprain. It was probably the panic of bein’ in the same place as me dad, to be honest.”

Something steely flashes through her eyes, there and gone in a second, at the mention of Jamie’s dad. (Y/N)’s never been anything other than kind about it, but Jamie doesn’t doubt she’d beat the old fart up if she were given the chance. 

The thought only makes him smile.

“Did you? See him?” she wonders cautiously. She’s touching him again after her moment of hesitation over his injury, hands doing soothing motions up and down his sides. Jamie fights off a shiver.

“Nah,” he says simply as if the thought of crossing paths with him didn’t have him toeing the line of a panic attack the entire three days they were in Manchester. “I don’t know if he was there, and if he was, I didn’t see him. I don’t think I care anymore. It’s for the best, really.”

(Y/N)’s expression brightens, though they both know they’re not done talking about it. Jamie wishes it could be as easy as turning off his phone and forgetting about his dad, but his skin already itches a little with the idea of getting a text back from him. He’s also no doubt that (Y/N) will hold him throughout it all. 

“I did see me mum.”

“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.

“Happy,” Jamie says softly, always the most important thing to consider when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a toddler and he gained acknowledgment of his dad’s actions; after an especially gruesome argument that ended with his dad breaking a few photo frames and plates, stumbling his way out of the apartment, and slamming the door shut, Jamie would climb on his mom’s lap and wipe her tears as best he could with his tiny clumsy baby fingers. “Yeah, she was real happy. And for me, too. Even before the match, she was happy to see me, happy to… jus’ happy.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she threads her fingers through Jamie’s hair to keep it off his face, his headband lost somewhere in his lockers or amongst the rest of the dirty laundry. He’ll have to tell Will to watch out for it, he’s a little attached to it after the night he’s had. 

Jamie’s usually not the one to believe in lucky garments or charms but– well. He feels pretty lucky right now; that (Y/N) saw some worth in him when they met and makes the choice to love him and come home to him, day after day, whatever the outcome may be. 

(Y/N) looks at him adoringly like she knows what he’s thinking. “Did’ya get your wings back, then?”

Jamie grasps her hand in his and turns to kiss the inside of her wrist, only slipping a little bit of tongue. “Nah. They was never gone. All I needed was a little help to see.”

He frowns before (Y/N) can answer. “I was gonna say something stupid like ‘you’re me wings’ but that’s disgusting and I hate it. I would never say something like that. ‘m not Roy.”

(Y/N)’s laugh is surprised and comes deep from her belly. “Are you telling me Roy Kent’s a secret romantic?”

“Big old softie, that tosser,” he rolls his eyes. “He snuck you in for me, didn’t he? That’s all you need to know about–”

(Y/N) shuts him up with a kiss just because she can, and they’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper one. 

She says “He likes you. He’s proud of you. We’re all so proud of you,” while peppering kisses all over his face, landing on his cheeks, nose, temple, jaw, and corner of his mouth. “You’re so, so good, Jamie, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he says, because there’s not gonna be a single time in which she tells him that and he doesn’t reciprocate. “Mum said that, too. And Keeley and Roy. And Coach, too, I guess, in his own way. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” (Y/N) pouts and beats herself up over it for the thousandth time. Jamie presses a kiss to the space between her eyes for the thousandth time in response. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve told my boss to go to hell–” 

“You’re here,” he tells her, shaking her a little by the shoulders and looking her over like he can’t quite believe it. That she’s here in the locker room, in his life, loving him like he’s always desperately wished for but never thought he’d deserve. “What was I gonna do, put my dumb ankle into ice and sit alone in the dark?”

“‘m sure Roy and Keeley would be here drinking champagne with you if I wasn’t here.”

“And what could we be doing that is keeping them away right now?” he raises his brows, sneaking a hand down her back lower, lower, lower–

(Y/N) slaps his chest, though a gleam in her eye tells him she’s not saying no to anything. “You’re…” she drifts off.

He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”

(Y/N) shakes her head imperceptively. “Nah. I always knew you could do it. But you’re breathtaking, I’ll give you that. As if your ego needs it.”

Jamie’s mouth softens into a smile, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) frowns a little at the sudden shift in conversation. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been a dick these past couple of weeks–”

He had. (Y/N) won’t let him admit it but he wasn’t lying when he told Roy he wasn’t doing well. Not eating, not sleeping, waving off (Y/N)’s concern with a little too cold shoulder. It made him feel a little too much like his dad, and that thought only dragged him further down.

It had been (Y/N) who suggested Jamie pay a visit to his mom while in town for the game, and when he’d mentioned this to her she’d smiled knowingly, ran a hand through his hair, and made him promise an introduction soon. 

“You were anxious,” she corrects him with a shake of the head, won’t let him speak ill of himself when all he did was have a normal, human reaction to a very triggering situation. “And I’ve been worried about you but you don’t have to apologize, Jamie. Not to me, not in a million years.”

“Alright,” he says, soft and charmed. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, featherlight. He looks down at their intertwined hands for a beat or two, gently swinging them back and forth. “Then can I apologize for shutting you out? I know you were only trying to help. I’ll do better next time at letting you know what I need.”

“And I’ll do better at listening,” she assures him with an indulgent smile, using her free hand to trace the Richmond crest of his shirt. “Look at us, communicating and shit.”

Jamie scrunches his nose in faux disgust. “Gross,” he says, but even the facade is too much to keep up when (Y/N) nudges his nose with hers. His lips tilt upwards against his best intentions, drunk on her presence and something inside his chest brimming with unstirred delight. 

(Y/N) exhales against his mouth. She hasn’t been more than a few inches away from him since she came down to meet him, always touching him.  

“What do you wanna do, huh?” she asks him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Anything you want. We can go get some takeout from that burger place you like or maybe something fancier? We can go home and get some ice on that ankle–”

“It’s nothin’–”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” by that, she means when the team doctor gives him the all clear and he isn’t limping slightly with every step he takes. It’ll take a while but Jamie can take it, especially if any downtime comes with them spending the days together. She makes a questioning hum. “But we can do that tomorrow, then. Tonight, whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

And Jamie does feel like a winner. Not only because of the three points they managed to steal from Man City but because he gets to come home to this. He gets to leave his dad behind in Manchester and his mom in safe hands, he gets to accomplish his dream for himself and the people that love him instead of trying to prove someone who hurt him wrong. 

He gets to live for himself. Coach Lasso was right, him forgiving his father was the kindest thing he could do for himself. 

“I want this,” he murmurs against her temple, breathing in the smell of her perfume and taking in the warmth of her body against his. “I got all I need right here.”

(Y/N) smiles and crowds even closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

A beat. Then–

“So that’s a no for a quickie in the locker room, then?”

(Y/N)’s laugh tastes like a standing ovation.

_________

precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily

i was ready to make an angsty peace about him but mom city left me craving to give him a moment of peace so ta-da! thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think!

a reminder that commissions and asks are open!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

#leo writes #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso imagine #roy kent #keeley jones #phil dunster #brett goldstein #juno temple #jason sudeikis