#and yet I am moving through life just ALWAYS WONDERING WHEN THEY WILL BE DONE WITH ME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tempestuous-lush · 1 year

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perfect || steve rogers x f!reader

summary: reader breaks up with steve over insecurities regarding lack of experience. he insists she is perfect, and proves to her just how perfect she is.

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, multiple creampies, brief size kink, brief daddy kink, virgin reader, hints of a darker steve, blowjob. I think that’s it?

misc: just know, never written steve before so this is VERY new for me. I’m trying to move past my comfort zones. Also this was written on my phone, so. If the format is off that’s mostly why.

also some people I think may enjoy this, @sweetieswiftie @a-bang-for-your-bucky @grippingbeskar @castlesnchurches

You had broken up with him via text.

He didn’t respond well to that. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand what he had done wrong. So, he went to the nearest flower shop and bought a dozen brightly colored dahlias…your favorite. The next thing he had done was go out of his way to get takeout. It was your usual order from the Vietnamese place you had brought him to. Last, he stopped to get you a book. He knew you were reading a series, and decided to get you the next one in the series. Then he found himself at the door of your apartment. He was nervous. Clearing his throat, he knocked.

You pulled the door open without checking, the one thing Steve always got on you for doing. You spoke first, “Steve, I just br” -

“I brought a few things so you might let me in, and tell me why.”

This was the last conversation you were wanting to have. Yet, you knew Steve and he wouldn’t just step away. So, reluctantly, you stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. The aroma of the food he brought followed him to the kitchen, and you smiled at the thought of him going out of his way to get you one of your favorites.

Then your eyes registered flowers as he turned and offered them to you. You looked down with a shy smile before taking them from him, whispering a thanks. Steve’s eyes stayed glued to you as you walked around the tiny island to open it and pull out a vase, filling it with water to drop the flowers inside.

You decided to place the merry vase on your coffee table and as you moved them around in the vase and didn’t look at him, Steve spoke up, “So, are you going to tell me what went wrong? Because last I checked, we were doing wonderful. More than that even.”

You looked at him then, your cheeks redding as you thought of why. You hugged your arms to your torso and Steve looked at you, patiently waiting. There was a reason you broke up with him through text message and you were hoping to avoid this conversation. Desperately. Your eyes were beginning to water and you looked away. Steve stood there, still as a statue. Reluctantly, you come clean, “Look at me, Steve.”

Not understanding, a bit of a laugh escaped him before he answered, confused, “I am.”

“No…look at me. Why do you want me? No one else ever has. I’m not thin enough, not social enough, not bright enough, not…good enough.”

Steve’s face was scrunched with confusion, before he shook his head, “I’m not understanding.”

He watched as you threw your head back with a frustrated sigh. You stomped off to your bedroom in a dramatic fashion that would have been adorable under different circumstances. He bit back his smile. Then, just as swiftly as you exited, you came back and threw a magazine at him. Steve turned to the page you had dog eared and saw a photo taken of the two of you. You were walking into headquarters in streetwear. He didn’t see the issue until he saw the caption.

Captain America Dating Grunt

You watched as he read the article, words ripping you apart and pointing out everything you’ve ever had an insecurity about. When he was done, his hands made quick work of ripping the pages apart. He crossed the space between you and you stepped away, “They’re not wrong Steve…I’m not a good fit for you. Between the looks and the lack of experience, I’m not exactly batting the best.”

Steve came to a still. His blue eyes pierced through you, “You’re perfect.”

“I just…literally anyone else could be better for you. And don’t even get me started on reading everywhere in gossip columns how you should be with a model or the elusive redhead in photos that we both know is Natasha. It’s tiring.” You averted your gaze and picked at your nail beds, an old nervous habit that Steve knew was your bluff. You were lying about something. He just wasn’t sure what.

Instead of hiding it though, he called you out on it, “That’s a lie and we both know it. C’mon beautiful, those comparisons never bothered you before. I know that’s not the issue.”

You knew it wasn’t the issue, too. No, the truth was, the night before last the two of you had gotten much closer and that terrified you for more than one reason. For starters, you were already well in love with him and terrified any time he went on missions. What would happen if you became even more attached? Was it even possible? Then, what if you were bad at it? Sure, the heated kisses and level of intimacy already were wonderful, but you didn’t really know what to do besides that. And, part of you was insecure. What if he didn’t appreciate or even want the full package once it was opened?

Biting at your lip, you mumbled out, “I’ve also…never had sex.”

Steve stared at you in disbelief, his blue eyes taking in the blush on your face.

“I’m sorry?”

“God Steve, I know you heard me.” Your eyes landed on the floor. That seemed the safest option at this moment. Though part of you felt like you might spontaneously combust at any moment. Tears pricked at your eyes in embarrassment.

A small smile hinted at the corners of his lips before he cleared his throat, “I’ve only ever had sex once sweetheart. It’s not like I would have much comparison myself. What if I’m god awful?”

Your head shot up. Only once? How could that be the case? You blinked away your forming tears before sniffling, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better. Look at you. Who wouldn’t be trying for that? You’ve had to have offers.”

“Well, I didn’t get many looks before the serum, and afterwards I was a bit busy with war. It was right before I ended up on the front lines though. So, roughly eighty years ago…” he winced at the way that sounded before laughing, “And now I feel old.”

You found yourself feeling a little better. A laugh escaped you before adding, “You are…but I like that about you. You’re the only grown man I’ve met that likes to dance with me.”

“Sweetheart I will do absolutely anything with you.”

A fierce blush spread across your face and you cleared your throat, “Wanna help me eat the food you brought?”

“Only if it means you’ve rescinded the breakup.”

“I suppose I acted with haste.”

“You can say that again. And just know, I will never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.” His hand found yours, engulfing your small hand in size and warmth and comfort. That was just Steve.

The two of you sat at your small table in the kitchen and ate in peace with one another. You moved to clear the table and Steve stood and began to help. You moved in comfortable silence. Though, there was an odd electricity in the air, knowing what each of you knew now. And, as he brushed your hair back and kissed you goodbye, his lips lingered on yours and you ran a hand through his hair before deepening the kiss.

He chuckled deeply as he broke the kiss, thumb stroking your cheek, speaking softly, “I have to say, there is no way you’ll be bad at it, and there is no way I won’t enjoy it. But I have to go sweetheart. Bucky and I are getting shipped out in less than an hour now, but I couldn’t leave things the way they were. You’re too important to me.”

He kissed you again on the cheek and you called out once he turned around, “Hey.”

Steve looked back at you, a smile spreading on his face as you said three words, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I will see you when I get back, yeah?”

As you nodded, your heart feeling lighter with your revelation, he left out and you softly closed the door behind him, whispering, “Be safe.”

Steve made it in record time to the military air strip, weaving in and out of traffic on his bike. When he pulled up he saw Bucky already there. Even as Steve climbed off the bike, Bucky was impatient to learn, “How did it go with your girl?”

“Well, she said she loved me for the first time…” Steve wasn’t sure how much to divulge to his best friend.

Though, over the course of the mission, Steve accidentally slipped up on just what the problem was. They were at a small cafe grabbing a bite to eat when Steve slipped up. Bucky put his food down and looked at Steve incredulous, “No, there’s no way. A girl that looks like that” -

“Hey, watch it!”

“Steve, I was just saying, I don’t believe it. There’s no way no one has really tried before.” Bucky remembered when he first met you, how if you were anyone else’s but Steve’s he would have tried to take you away.

Steve was getting uncomfortable with the conversation though and dismissed it, “No it makes sense. She spends so much time at work and in that lab. It’s the only reason I met her when I did. I was with Natasha and she brought me with her. Said she needed to pick up some new equipment. But now? She was absolutely trying to fix us up.”

Bucky nodded as he finished his meal. As Steve went to take another bite, Bucky offered his unsolicited advice, “Eat with enthusiasm.”

Steve choked a bit on his last bite and once he cleared his throat gave Bucky a shove, his friend laughing playfully.

Meanwhile, back home you paged Natasha to come and meet you in the lab. When the redhead got there, looking around as though expecting to see a reason she was there, you waved at her and stated, “Natasha I need your help.”

She walked over towards you and cocked an eyebrow when she saw your face already getting red, “Everything okay?”

“I, uh…I don’t know what to wear for an…event.”

“Okay, well, what’s the event?”

Your blush spread to your ears and you timidly showed her your phone screen. You had been looking at lingerie. It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were incredibly out of your depth. Which is when you called her in. Natasha tried to bite back a smirk but you could hear it in her voice, “And what an event it is.”

“I wanted something special but also everything I’ve found just feels a bit…”

“Much?”

You nodded, feeling relieved she understood and also kept you from over explaining.

Natasha reached below your work space and grabbed your purse and nodded to the door, “Take the lab coat off and come with me. You’re taking a personal day and I don’t think anyone will mind.”

A week later found you looking at your phone in your apartment, nervously eyeing your last text received. As much as I want to go home and shave before you see me, I missed you too much. On my way to see you.

You had slipped into what you and Natasha had settled on as soon as you received his message. To cover it, the two of you had decided on a loose fitting silk slip dress in a light pink. You tied the nude colored silk sash around your waist. It still baffled you that stockings could cost so damn much, not even acknowledging the rest of it. You had always been a mismatched sports bra and panty kind of girl. A blush spread over your cheeks as you thought of what you were wearing. Huffing, you looked up at the ceiling and spoke to no one but yourself, “Get it together, girl.” A yelp followed as a knock interrupted your self talk, and you could feel your heartbeat already beginning to race.

Walking to the door, you looked through the eyehole and your breath caught in your throat. It was Steve. You fumbled with the locks long enough for it to be noticeable. Was that sweat on your palms?

By the time you got the door open, Steve’s face held a questioning look. That was, until he drank in the sight of you. His tongue reflexively licked his bottom lip, blue eyes traveling slowly up your body until they rested on your face, “Jesus sweetheart, you look incredible. I hope you didn’t get dressed up just for me though...”

Looking down to hide the new blush erupting on your cheeks, you took a step back to let him inside.

When you looked back up, you felt your insides clench at the sight of him. He had a beard. His hair had gotten the tiniest bit longer. Something about him not looking as polished as he normally did had your stomach fluttering. That was when you realized you were just staring, your mouth slightly open and eyes glazed over with lust. Snapping yourself out of it and doing your best to ignore his knowing smirk, you cleared your throat and responded brutally honest, “You're exactly who I dressed up for.”

You winced at the way it sounded. You turned and walked away, face in hand, wondering just how red your face could get. Steve let out a sympathetic laugh before walking in behind you and closing the door. He sat on the couch as you went into the kitchen. You opened a bottle of Pinot noir and poured a rather…healthy glass. Taking a sip you called out, “Want anything to drink Steve?”

“No I’m good sweetheart.”

Letting a sigh escape, you downed the entire glass before dry heaving at the feel of so much red wine at your throat before chugging water. Walking into the living room, your eyes immediately fell on Steve.

At first you were looking at his face, tired and eyes closed. However, soon your eyes fell lower. Your mouth ran dry. You had never understood the excitement over sweatpants weather. Until now. Resting between his legs was the larg-

-“well sweetheart I came here to see you, so come over here please?”

Pulled as though by attraction alone, you found yourself standing before him before straddling his hips. Your fingers were shaking as you threaded them through his hair, whispering, “I missed you.”

Before you could think, you found your lips slowly working on his neck. A groan escaped him as you continued along his shoulder. Your hands grabbed hold on the back of his biceps before you rocked your hips slightly, experimenting.

Steve’s hands instinctively grabbed at your thighs to try and steady you, to try and slow you. You looked at him, studying the face you knew you loved more than you thought possible. His blue eyes looked at you, silently questioning. It had you thinking of what you wanted. Him. Leaning forward, you whispered softly to him as though scared anyone else might hear something so private, “I’m yours, Steve. And I want you to take what’s yours.”

The two of you stared at one another in silence, your turn to smile at the disbelief on his face. He only snapped out of it when you rocked your hips forward again. His fingers wrapped around your thighs as he stood and picked you up. A shriek of laughter at the unexpected movement escaped you before his lips found yours, your own hands weaving into his hair to eagerly return the gesture.

As Steve backed you into your bedroom door, you let go of his hair to open the handle. Just as you did and broke the kiss Steve asked you, “Seeetheart, are you sure?”

“I am sure, Steve. Just promise you’ll still love me after?” Just as you asked, your door opened and the two of you fell through. His lips were once again on yours, answering your question with a kiss.

You landed on your bed with Steve on top of you. Your legs parted for him immediately to make space and his hand ran along the outside of your thighs, pausing where the stocking gave way to soft lace. He buried his head in your neck at the same time. Possibly to hide his own blush. But then you heard his voice, teasing and affectionate, “Did you wear these for me sweetheart?”

Just as he asked you, he bucked his hips into you. Both of you were still clothed. You suddenly realized there was too much fabric in the way. And yet, the feeling of his cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants elicited a moan from you. Steve nearly whines as he repeated the action, another lustful sound escaping you, before whispering, “Such pretty stockings for such a pretty girl. Gonna keep them on you, is that alright?”

There was a question. Yet, you weren’t sure what it was as Steve’s free hand caressed your face before kissing you again. The pressure on your lips was bruising but it didn’t matter. You just needed more of him. Your hands found his back, clinging to him as he continued dry humping you.

You were so quick to respond. It didn’t take long for your arousal to spread through your body, soaking your pretty nude panties and leaving a damp spot against his sweatpants. Then, the smell of you reached Steve just as he grunted at the feeling of your arousal wetting his sweatpants. You smelled divine. You felt heavenly. Now? He needed to taste.

Steve’s mouth slowly worked down your neck. You moaned as his tongue grazed over a sensitive spot on your neck that neither of you knew you had, licking along the soft line of your clavicle, before he placed a kiss between your breasts.

It was there that he paused and looked down…wanting to know what you looked like. This dress, as pretty as it was on you, was in his way. A soft smile as he glanced up to you before muttering apologies had you confused until his hands made easy work of the dress, ripping it down the middle. The soft silk pooled around your sides as he let go and his blue eyes roamed over you before huffing, “Sweetheart, I will say it again and again till you believe me. You’re perfect.”

Something shifted in him and he fell onto you, mouth hot and hungry as he explored your body. His wet tongue on the delicate lace cup of your bra as he kept rutting against you. Another moan tumbled from your lips before it turned into a desperate whine, his tongue through the fabric igniting your core.

Steve was running on autopilot now, thinking of everything he had wanted to do for so long, your pretty little sounds driving him on. His hands pulled at the cups so that you spilled out. His mouth closed over your nipple, the direct contact causing you to arch your back…getting closer to him. Cool air hit your damp nipple, causing it to peak. Steve’s mouth fell to the other, his fingers lightly pulling and twisting at the one his mouth abandoned.

That combined with the way his cock grinded against you was sending you somewhere you hadn’t been before. You had cum before but suddenly your own fingers felt so lackluster as they clutched to his back, your nails giving him pleasure in an unexpected way. And then, just when you felt yourself on the precipice, Steve’s hand came between the two of you. His mouth continued sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin and his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, the slickness of your arousal making it far too easy to slip his middle finger inside of you.

Just like that, you called out for him, your cream covering his thick digit as he pulled it from you.

You watched, equally hypnotized and mortified as he pulled back and sucked that finger into his mouth, licking it clean. A soft smile was on his face as he looked down at you, his voice coming out almost strained, “Yeah….perfect.”

It was only then that he looked down at himself, arousal evident, that same teasing affectionate voice from earlier surfacing, “And you thought I could possibly not want you, sweetheart?”

Your eyes were large as you looked at him. Timid at first, never having done this, you hooked your fingers around his waistband before pulling them down. His cock was heavy as it fell free and you were suddenly intimidated by the size of it.

On your hands and knees before him, Steve sitting back on his heels now, you slowly smeared the precum coming from his top down…surprised by just how soft the skin was.

Steve moaned at your slight touch. His head fell back, eyes shut, relishing at the tiniest amount of contact. What he wasn’t expecting was what you did next, sucking on the head of his cock while lazily dragging your hand down. A hiss escaped him before he looked at you. Your ass was in the air as you dragged your tongue around him. It was like you were teasing him with it. Come and get me.

The movement surprised both of you. You, because it felt so good to be stretched just a bit more, and him because it forced you to take about half of him into your mouth. Steve made to pull back but you were so encouraged by the noises he made that you had the opposite idea in mind. Instead, you took more of him into your mouth and Steve cried out, “Fuck!”

It sounded so unlike him, so uncharacteristic. Grunts came from him as your head moved up and down. A growl came from him. And suddenly he was giving you praise that you never expected to hear from him, “You look so pretty like this. Gonna leave that delicious cream on my fingers again, this time with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

“Oh g…Steve!” His words, his fingers, were driving you crazy.

You took him back into your mouth just as you came, the vibrations of your moans causing him to follow behind you. You eagerly sucked down everything he gave you, the taste of him salty on your tongue.

He slowly pulled his fingers from you, again watching him lick them clean. You felt your pussy flutter when he took them away, a whine escaping you that wasn’t missed by him. He helped you lay back down, your legs once again eagerly splayed open for him. A soft smile appeared on his face as he slowly ran the head of his cock along your folds, “I have a confession sweetheart.”

You were confused, “A…confession?”

“I planted a bug underneath your bed one day, a few months back, and I’ve touched myself listening to you whimpering around your fingers, knowing how much better you’d sound with your pretty pussy taking me. Does that bother you?” His confession had you more aroused than anything and you shook your head no while bucking your hips up for friction against his cock.

“After I claim your pretty little pussy, you’re mine in every way. Are you ready for that?”

You felt your pussy weeping with arousal at the anticipation of it. Frantic, you shook your head yes before barely managing to say, “Yes. M’yours.”

Steve shifted and slowly pushed his cock inside of you. You cried out at the stretch before commenting, “S’not gonna fit.”

“Oh it will sweetheart. You’ll be taking all of me soon, and then you’ll feel so good and full.”

His thumb fell on your exposed clit, the stretch he was already inflicting on your pussy giving him easy access. He rocked the first few inches back and forth inside of you while rubbing circles around your sensitive bud. Steve shuddered a bit. Even this bit inside of you felt like heaven. He screwed his eyes shut and muttered, “Gonna cum already sweetheart. Feel so good. Are you…oh god.”

He couldn’t finish asking if you were on birth control before his cum was filling you, his still hard cock pulsing inside of you. Steve bent his head down and took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing further inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before begging, “Fill me with your cock Steve. I’m ready. I - oh fuck - I need you.”

In one fluid motion he pulled you up as he sat back, impaling you on his cock. You cried out at the sensation before instinctively rocked your hips with a moan, settling skin to skin.

Steve held your face with his hands, checking in, “Is everything alright sweetheart?”

You nodded before commenting, “I never expected something to feel so right.”

“Gonna lay you down now sweetheart so I can see my cock fucking you. I’ve wanted it for too long.”

He kissed you deeply before laying you back down and leaning back. He pulled out of you, his semen from before spilling from you, before he pushed back in and watched a bulge in your lower stomach appear. He slowly rocked before pressing on the area where his cock was moving, causing you to spasm with pleasure. Excited by your response he picked up the pace, “That’s my cock deep inside you sweetheart.”

The words escaped you before you realized but it didn’t matter. Steve had heard you before when he listened in…your pretty little voice begging. He didn’t expect you to feel so comfortable so soon though, “Feel so good buried in me daddy.”

Steven doubled his effort at your revelation, fucking away any doubt that what you said was wrong. At his sudden increase you felt your orgasm hit you. You were calling out for him, skin slicked with sweat, nails scratching along his back. Steve swallowed your cries hungrily as he leaned over to kiss you, his second orgasm rushing over him. He gasped out, “G-gonna cum sweetheart. Gonna fill your pretty little pussy with me.”

“Gonna fill me up till I can’t hold anymore daddy?”

Steve growled out, “Fuck.”

At that, he shot his cum deep inside of you, stilling for a moment with his blue eyes fixated on you, “See? Fucking perfect. And mine.”

As he claimed you with words you felt his cock stir inside of you once again.

“Yours. Only yours, Steve.”

As he drove his hips into you, he hung his head, “I was so eager, I forgot to…eat with enthusiasm .”

Feeling emboldened, you used his moment of uncertainty to flip him to his back…sinking down onto him just the slightest bit more. You looked down at him before rolling your hips, “Plenty of time later, Steve. I’ve waited too long for this.”

The two of you spent the next few hours like this until finally, your pussy was too tired, too bruised.

You lay there in the bed, your leg and arm over him with your head on his chest. All of his cum was slowly leaking from you and down your thighs, though there were also splattered with it from him fucking your breasts too. He traced an imaginary pattern on your back as he whispered, “I love you so much, sweetheart. I’m yours.”

A chill ran down your back for some reason as he added, “And you’re mine.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #captain america smut

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

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three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

I am apparently incapable of writing anything short. This has no plot. I think the only warnings are like swearing and innuendo. It is literally just Jamie and the reader being in love. I cannot stress enough how little plot this has. Enjoy.

three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life It’s one of Richmond’s biggest games. They’re facing Man City on their turf, an away game, and it’s a big deal.

It’s not important in that it really matters to their status in the premier league, but important because it’s Man City. Jamie has thrown himself completely into training, so you rarely see him except to eat dinner and then fall asleep, his arms around your waist as you watch tv, fingers combing through his hair. He’s awake before you are, but as soon as you hear him switch on the bathroom light, you make your way downstairs to make him breakfast. The team nutritionist had a strict diet for him, one modified by Roy to account for all the extra training. You rub sleep from your eyes as you brew a pot of tea, waiting for Jamie to come downstairs.

Arms snake around you as you wait at the stove for the tea.“You don’t have to do this,” Jamie says, kissing your neck. You smile and reach back to him.

“I know,” you reply, “It’s just the only time I really get to see you.”

Jamie pulls away and turns you around. You see that he’s frowning.

“I haven’t been a good boyfriend recently, have I?” he asks.

You smile, lacing your arms around his neck. “Jamie. This is just a part of life. You have a big game, you disappear for a while, I miss you and I adjust. You finish, win or lose, and we’re back. I knew what I was signing up for.”

He puts his hands on your wrists. “Yeah, but, like, we’re supposed to be talking to each other and shit. And I’m so tired all the time that I can’t think of anything to say. I also’ve been a shit listener. Can’t even remember what we talked about yesterday.”

You sigh, move his hands back to your waist, and then reach up to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Remember when I had all that extra work last month and ended up working 60 hours a week because of everything that had to be done? I was up late every night, and all you did was bring me food and kiss me, then you left me alone. I think the longest we were together was when you let me sit with my legs on your lap for two hours. I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Yeah but-”

You cut him off: “Jamie. It’s just life right now. It’s not forever. It’s ok.”

He looks like he has more to say, but is interrupted by the kettle whistling. You give him a quick kiss and then point to his breakfast on the counter. You sit on the kitchen island while he eats, with your head on his shoulder until Roy comes.

—

Here’s the thing; no one knows you and Jamie are together. Sure, Roy knows. But Jamie loves Roy. Keeley knows. But Jamie said you’d love Keeley. (You did). Ted and Beard know, but only because they saw you two walking around the Richmond green late, late at night. (What they were doing on the Richmond green that late is beyond you, but hey). It wasn’t long after that that Jamie put a picture of you two up in his locker, so then all of AFC Richmond knew. But you weren’t public public. You had yet to show up in a tabloid or be seen with Jamie at a game or public event. You went to his games, absolutely, but you stayed in the stands, not the box.

He always got you a spot as close to the field as possible, but you would always meet up with Keeley and Rebecca after games to rendezvous somewhere else later.

You don’t mind. It doesn’t feel like Jamie is ashamed of you, especially because the people he cares about know. But you also know that you can handle it, and if he wants to go public and kiss you in the stands after a win, you would be ok with that. (You might be more than ok with that).

But as it is, no one knows about you. He knows where you stand on it, so the ball’s in his court. It’s been a year of this, but you just wonder how long it’s going to last.

—

Finally, finally it’s the week of the game. You had been staying in Manchester with Jamie’s mum, which was absolutely terrifying at first. It was not your first time meeting her, just your first time staying with her without Jamie present. You left a day before the team, so when they arrived Jamie sneaked away to come visit. You are sitting in comfortable silence on his mum’s porch looking up at the night sky, when he turns to you and says, “do you love me?”

You’re taken a little aback. “What kind of question is that?” you say. “Of course I love you.”

Jamie’s forehead is all scrunched up again, like it was that early morning. “What if I fucked my leg so badly I could never play football again?”

You laugh. “Not sure if you’ve noticed babe, but I’m not really a big football person. I’m more of a you person, so I guess there’s some overlap.”

Jamie is still weirdly nervous. “What if I play football till I’m forty, and you barely see me like it’s been? What if I’m always on the road and always training and all we get are dinners and shitty 3am breakfasts?”

He’s removed his arm from your shoulders at this point and you shiver, puffing out a breath into the cold air. He notices without saying a word and drapes his jacket around you.

“Jamie,” you reply slowly, trying to formulate your thoughts, “where is this all coming from? You know I love you. We’ve been together for a year, and this has never been an issue before.” As you’re speaking, you’re seized by a sudden, terrible thought: “Are you breaking up with me?”

The words tumble out so fast, you’re not sure he hears you until he’s looking at you, aghast.

“No, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” you reply. “But you’re acting all weird, and we’ve been together for an entire year and that’s the longest you’ve dated anyone and I just thought that maybe this was your way of letting me know gently that you’re over me.”

Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.

Jamie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh. No. I’m not ending things. I want to be with you forever. I just get all freaked out in me head before games like this, and it’s been fuckin weird coming home, and I just want to win, you know, so that way all this time away is worth it.” He pulls you close to him again and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a normal pace, in sync with your own.

You sit there till his mum comes out to remind him that it’s time to go get some rest, and it’s not until you’re half asleep in Jamie’s childhood bed that your mind replays his words:

I want to be with you forever.

—

It’s game day. You send Jamie a quick love you! text and then slip into your Jamie Tartt jersey. It’s from one of his old kits so it’s a little worn, but you always put it into his laundry pile so it comes out of the wash smelling like him. It’s not something anyone would notice, but you know, and it makes you smile. You get to be in the stands and know that Jamie Tartt loves you and you love him, and at the end of the day he’s the one you get to hold. You give yourself a shake, and open your phone to figure out where you’re meeting Keeley.

—

“And Richmond wins, 3-2 with a smashing goal by number 9 himself, Jamie Tartt!”

You’re screaming and jumping in the stands, overwhelmed by the fact that we won, we won, we won! The Richmond team are piling onto each other, Dani on Isaac’s back, Sam and Jan Maas jumping up and down like kids. You lose sight of Jamie in the mix.

“Well Arlo, it looks like Richmond has once again, exceeded all of our low expectations.”

“That’s right Chris, all thanks to Jamie Tartt’s brilliant goal. Looks like he’s having a good time celebrating with the Richmond lads. Wonder what they’ll get up to tonight? But what’s this? It looks like Tartt has broken away from his teammates and is running to the stands! He’s stopped in front of a fan and it looks like he is kissing a very lucky Richmond fan full on the mouth!”

“Have you ever been so caught up in a moment that you’ve made out with a stranger, Arlo?”

“Can’t say that I have, Chris. Can’t say that I have.”

It all happens so fast, that you don’t even know how to process it. One moment you can’t find Jamie and the next he is leaping over the stands, catching you in his arms, and kissing you in front of the whole stadium as if no one else is around. When you finally pull away, breathless, he takes your hand and helps you hop over the wall onto the pitch. Not usually allowed, but you suppose they’ll let it slide for football’s golden boy. AFC Richmond has caught up to Jamie, and you’re all on the field, screaming your heads off out of the sheer joy of winning.

—

“You’re coming tonight, yeah?” Isaac asks you as you wait for Jamie by the team bus. It’s the day after the Man City game, and you’re back in Richmond with a plan to hit the town yet again, as though the night before wasn’t enough for them. (You actually wouldn’t know, because you were in a very nice hotel room with a certain striker).

“Yeah, you know the only reason we invited him anywhere is in the hopes that you’ll finally be able come along,” Colin adds.

Any story of Richmond’s win had a somewhat fuzzy picture attached of Jamie kissing you in the stands with some variation of the title “Tartt’s mystery girl.”

You laugh. “Yes, we’ll be there. It’ll be nice to actually be out and about with you guys. Family dinners are fun, but there’s more to life.”

Once you found out that Jamie’s whole team knew you existed, you made him invite them over for dinner once a month. It’s one of your favorite things, especially because they all bring food to share. When it’s warm you do pool parties and when it’s cold you play bracket uno. It was nice to meet Jamie’s family, whether he’ll admit that’s what they are or not.

“You ready, babe?” Jamie asks as he slings his arm around you.

“BYE TED!” you yell. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”

—

Sam closed his restaurant special for you all, and turned it into like a private club. You say like because it is, at its core, a restaurant. However, under Isaac’s supervision and creative design, he apparently has transformed Ola’s through rearranged furniture, dimmed lighting, and music into a place where AFC Richmond can celebrate their win without feeling crowded by strangers. You’re secretly grateful, because clubs are not really your scene. You’ll get all dressed up, sure, but you never know what to do with yourself once you’re there.

Speaking of getting dressed up, you were feeling yourself. You had a light blue mini dress, with an asymmetrical neckline and a single puffed sleeve. It was more a-line than bodycon, but hey. You like a little bit of a twirl when you spin. Your absolute favorite part though was that you were wearing two-inch silver block heels, with straps around your ankles. The dress plus the shoes made your legs look magical.

You and Jamie are in the bathroom getting ready, you fixing your makeup and him fixing his hair. He half-turns to you and points to his hair with a questioning look. “Lookin’ good,” you smile, and he smiles back.

“Oh, babe,” he says, tweaking his hair one final time, “I left my sunglasses back at the locker room, and I was wonderin’ if you’d be ok getting them with me before we head to the party? I just don’t want Bumbercatch stealing them.”

“Why would Bumbercatch steal them?” you ask.

Jamie shrugs. “Something about ‘no name, fair game.’ That’s how Jan Maas lost his favorite socks.”

You shudder. Why Bumbercatch would want Jan Maas’ dirty old socks, you have no idea. They must be really amazing.

You reply, “Yeah sure, I hate being too early to things anyway,” as Jamie absentmindedly kisses you on the forehead with a “thanks babe,” as he heads downstairs.

—

You don’t live far from the Richmond pitch, so you’re walking across the dark parking lot in no time.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Jamie says.

He’s swinging your hands as you walk. He looks nice, the sleeves of his cream shirt rolled up. Nice pants, nice shoes. Nice ass.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, momentarily distracted by the fact that this man is going to get laid tonight.

“No, I mean you’re always down for what-fuckin-ever, and you just let things bounce off you. And you like me, for my personality for some fucking reason? And I think about you all the time, when I’m gone or when, like, I have early training with Roy. And you make laugh because you stopped being afraid to be yourself around me. I just like you. And I meant what I said the other day, I do want to be with you forever. Not to freak you out or whatever.”

He’s stopped right at the doors and he looks so uncomfortable and earnest in a way that you’ve never seen before.

“I’m not freaked out, Jaim,” you say. “I love you, and you know I’m in it to win it with you. Now, let’s get those sunglasses and for the love of god, please don’t act this weird tonight.”

This elicits a chuckle, and he nods in concession. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The halls are dark and quiet as you walk to the Richmond locker room. It smells clean, for once. Like lavender. There’s a faint glow coming from the doors and Jamie pushes open the doors to the most magical thing you have ever seen.

There are candles on the benches and twinkle lights strung across the lockers. There’s a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the room and as you turn to Jamie, awestuck look on your face, you see him kneeling behind you, small black box in hand.

“Jamie,” you say.

“Yes, love,” he replies.

“What are you doing.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it comes out more wobbly than you’d care to admit.

He cracks a smile. “Eh, I hope it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

You can feel a fucking tear forming in your eye and you will it to go away. You refuse to have streaky foundation.

“Love of my life,” Jamie begins.

“Yes,” you say.

“Oi, you’ve gotta let me finish.”

“Right, sorry, as you were.” You think your face is going to split in half with the size of your smile.

He takes a breath then continues, “there’s no one else I’d rather have shitty 3am breakfasts with, no one else I’d rather beat at MarioKart, and no one else I’d rather do life with. Will you m-”

He’s cut of by you kissing him like you have never kissed him before. After a moment, he pulls away and asks, “Is that a yes?”

You can’t help it, the furrow in his brow gets you every time so you laugh and reply, “Of course it’s a yes, you dummy!”

Jamie smiles and then yells, “Lads, she said yes!” and the blinds go up from the coaches office as the entire AFC Richmond team storms into the locker room. Dani and Richard are spraying champagne in the air as people hug you and slap Jamie on the back.

You find his hand amid the chaos and squeeze it.

“Can’t believe I were so nervous about this,” he says into your ear.

“Can’t believe you think you beat me at MarioKart,” you respond.

“Oi, we are not getting into this again-”

“There’s only one way to settle this.”

Jamie looks at you, then to all your friends celebrating, then back to you. “Think they’ll even notice we’re gone?”

You shake my head. “Nah,” you say, “let’s get out of here.”

Jamie smiles at me as you slip through six different lynx scents out the door. “You’re going down, Mrs. Tartt.”

“Only one of us is going down tonight, Mr. Tartt, and I can assure you it is not me!”

“You can say that again.” Jamie sticks out his tongue and wiggles his eyebrows at you, and your laughter echoes up into the night sky.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Hands

Plot: Y/n and Joel work to escape the ambush with their lives, sharing an unexpected tender moment after.

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.4 spoilers, language, graphic description of injuries, canon-typical violence, death, blood, guns, knives, insinuated a**ault, (16+)

A/N: THERE WAS ONE BED. Sorry, I’ve been waiting five days to say that. Anyway, this one was super fun to write. As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be tagging anyone unless your age is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Enjoy, and good luck to all going into tonight’s episode 🙏🏻

——————

June 6th, 2002. Austin Texas.

Summer in Texas brought a brutal heat, but once the sun set, it was bearable to a point of enjoyment.

Y/n’s fingers drummed anxiously against her steering wheel as she drove to the fairgrounds. If she’d been nervous about her first date with Joel, this was worse. If she couldn’t fit in with the family, there was no point in them going any further. The night had to go well.

She pulled into the dirt parking lot, taking a deep breath before switching off her car. Sarah and her had already gotten along when she’d driven her home. And Tommy already felt like an old friend. Everything would be fine…probably.

Tommy, Joel and Sarah waited at the front of the fair, the latter two peeking through the sea of people for one specific person.

“Can’t tell which one of you’s more excited,” Tommy chuckled, looking between his niece and brother.

“I’m excited,” Sarah replied, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look, “Dad’s nervous.”

“I am not nervous,” Joel stated, his fiddling thumbs over his pockets contradicting his words.

Before Tommy could get in a jab, the three of them spotted Y/n’s head bobbing through crowd. Sarah and Tommy waved wildly, Joel tried to keep his restrained.

“The yellow rose of Texas,” Tommy cheered, beating Joel to give her a hug.

Y/n laughed as Tommy spun her around. “Nice to see you too,” she grinned.

Sarah jumped forward, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Hi, Y/n!”

“Hey,” Y/n greeted her, unsure whether or not she was supposed to hug her or if it was too much or-

Her excessive thoughts died in thin air as soon as her and Joel’s eyes met.

He sheepishly walked forward, hoping it didn’t seem like he wasn’t enthusiastic about her being there. He was just so fucking nervous.

“Dad,” Sarah piped up, “Doesn’t Y/n look pretty tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy added, taking Y/n’s hand and twirling her around, “Better make a move before she realizes she can do better.”

Joel nodded along, “Alright, alright,” he took Y/n’s hand, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled, all her anxiety suddenly seemed worth it.

“Should we get this show on the road?” Tommy asked, slapping his hands together and pulling Sarah along with him.

Joel and Y/n’s fingers stayed interlocked as they walked in.

“She’s been bouncing off the walls all day,” he admitted, “Couldn’t wait to see you.”

Y/n forced a laugh, “You’re doing wonders for my anxiety…”

Joel laughed, sneaking a kiss to Y/n’s temple while his family’s backs were turned.

The night, however, ended up going better than either one of them expected. Sarah was glued to Y/n’s side all night, barely acknowledging her uncle or Joel. She insisted that Y/n sit with her on all the rides, even grabbing her hand on one of the coasters. Y/n made an effort in between attractions to find out Sarah’s interests, finding common ground in music mostly. Joel’s daughter was witty, smart and a downright joy to simply be around.

Joel watched the whole thing, his heart bursting with affection for them both. Under the glow of the carnival lights, he wasn’t sure what he had been so worried about. He had the two most incredible girls in his life and it was crazy to think they wouldn’t get along.

They’d walked nearly the entire fair before Sarah spotted the ferris wheel. “We haven’t done that one yet,” she said, “Y/n?”

“Well, if your dad’s recovered from the tilt-o-whirl,” Y/n shrugged, smiling smugly at Joel.

Joel pointed a finger at Y/n, “Don’t even mention that death contraption.”

The four of them made their way through the line, zigging and zagging. Somewhere along the way, Sarah drifted behind Joel and Y/n to walk alongside Tommy, forcing the two of them together. They filed up the steps and into the cart, expecting Tommy and Sarah to be right behind them.

“Oh,” Sarah put her hands to her stomach, “I’m not feeling great.”

Tommy grabbed his niece’s shoulders with great concern, “Oh, no. Maybe we should go sit you down.”

Joel, though already barred in his seat, tried to stand up. “Sarah, I-“

“You guys go ahead,” she waved her dad off, “I think I just need some water or something.”

“Well, no,” Y/n said, trying to push the bar up, “We can just-“

The wheel creaked to life and began to lift Y/n and Joel up into the air.

“Well, fuck,” Joel muttered, frantically looking around as if he could somehow stop it in motion, “I wonder if it’s somethin’ she ate.”

Y/n peered down, searching out Tommy and Sarah’s forms. She chuckled when she finally spotted them. “Something tells me she’ll live,” she tapped Joel on the shoulder and pointed downwards.

There, back in line for more greasy carnival food, was Sarah, nearly bouncing beside her uncle as they watched Y/n and Joel.

Joel threw his head back in relief and laughter, blindly seeking out Y/n’s hand.

“Your daughter might just be an evil genius,” Y/n smirked.

“She’s diabolical,” Joel replied, turning to face Y/n with a lovesick grin, “She loves you.”

Y/n folded her other hand over Joel’s, “She’s magic. Just pure sunshine.”

“No, I mean,” Joel sat up straighter, “She’s never taken to anyone like she has you. It’s just been us and Tommy her whole life and the way she’s accepted you is just…”

Neither one needed to say it, they could both feel it. Sarah had taken Y/n in like she’d always been there.

“I’m honored,” Y/n beamed.

Joel felt like he was locked in a tractor beam, Y/n’s eyes drawing him in further and further. The two of them startled when the ferris wheel creaked again and they stopped moving, having reached the top of their climb.

“So,” Y/n started, “Did I pass the Miller family test?”

Joel took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulders, dragging her frame closer to him till they were pressed against one another. Y/n interlocked her fingers with his, her stomach nearly in her throat from the closeness.

Joel knew that the next seconds were crucial. If he kissed Y/n, he was signing away his future. There would never be another woman his eyes followed across the room. The room would empty as soon as she walked in. There would never be another first date, sweaty palms and racing heartbeat accompanying. The nerves would morph into different firsts, ones of far more significance. If he gave his heart fully to this woman, it would never again be his.

Joel rubbed a thumb against Y/n’s shoulder and smiled, “Flyin’ colors, Rosebud.”

Y/n was practically glowing, relief radiating out of her. She knew that Sarah was the final puzzle piece to her and Joel, and it had all come together gloriously. There were no more obstacles, there was only them.

Joel’s eyes flickered to Y/n’s lips, the signal that meant something beautiful was about to happen. She held firm, not wanting to move and upset the electricity of the moment. Joel’s head slowly drifted forward, his nose gently sliding against Y/n’s. She couldn’t hide her shaky exhale as their skin finally touched.

Joel allowed a few seconds, for the possibility of her backing out, before letting himself lean in fully and kiss her.

The pure relief that ran through their bodies paralyzed them, their lips pausing as if the commit the feeling to memory. The shock wore off and Y/n pushed her lips deeper against his, seeking out the second kiss. Joel met her, bringing his free hand up to hold her cheek in place. His fingers spread across the side of her face, two brushing against her jawline. It was nearly a lazy kiss, like they knew this was just the first of a million and they could take their time with it.

There, above a sea of noise that faded in their ears, Y/n and Joel felt their uncertainties turn to stone. They were each other’s future.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

The crash could have been worse.

“Ellie?” Y/n panted, reaching blindly behind her.

“I’m okay,” Ellie grabbed hold of Y/n’s arm.

“You’re not hurt, nothin?” Joel asked both of them, his eyes frantically scanning them for injuries.

Ellie shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Y/n confirmed, checking Joel’s face and hands for blood.

Inevitable gunshots began to hit the truck, sending them ducking for cover.

“Belts off,” Joel shouted, “Fast!”

They unbuckled and Ellie crawled out her side of the truck, Y/n and Joel following. Y/n had the good sense to grab her backpack as she slid out. They crouched down behind the truck, Joel reaching back in to grab Y/n and his shotguns.

One of their assailants called out to them, “Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you make it through this! I promise!”

A lie.

Y/n and Joel loaded their guns in preparation. They could fight, but Ellie couldn’t.

Joel spotted a hiding spot through the wall. “Hey,” he caught Ellie’s attention, “You see that hole? Can you squeeze through?”

A couple warning shots caused them all to flinch, Y/n throwing an arm over Ellie’s body instinctively.

“When I say go, you crawl through that wall,” Joel instructed, “And you squeeze through, and you don’t come out until we say, okay?”

A bullet flew through one of the truck’s windows, the shards of glass raining around them. Y/n was directly under its stream, her adrenaline blocked the feeling of the small cuts.

“And they’re not gonna hit you,” Joel kept going, Ellie was already turning in concern towards Y/n, “Look at me!”

“Ellie,” Y/n urged, “Listen to him.”

Ellie turned to Joel, he drove the promise home. “They’re not gonna hit you.”

Another bullet came too close for comfort.

“You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet,” Joel instructed, trying to give her as much information as possible in an attempt to soothe her fears.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded, Y/n squeezed her hand for reassurance.

“Okay,” Joel said, looking over to Y/n. The two of them had to be perfectly in sync for the plan to work. Y/n gave a confidant nod and he returned it.

“GO!”

On cue, Ellie began to belly crawl across the floor while Y/n and Joel got to their feet. When one of them took a shot, the other would stay down. They timed their reloads so that someone was always up and firing.

While crouched behind the truck, Y/n glanced over at the hole in the wall, the only thing left visible was Ellie’s leg being pulled through.

“She’s in,” Y/n told Joel, popping up as he went down and firing a shot at one of their attackers.

Joel was making up their escape route on the fly, trying to find a place safe enough to take cover behind. “Come on,” he muttered, leading Y//n behind a large piece of equipment.

Y/n crouched beside Joel, her mind racing with grim possibilites as the crunching of glass came closer. Joel was the better shot, without question, but her fear for Ellie’s life made her much quicker to the trigger. Joel motioned for her to stay down, he would take the shot.

Waiting for their attacker to be in perfect position, Joel rose to his feet and fired a deadly bullet.

Joel exhaled, he’d been holding his breath as they’d lay in waiting. He offered Y/n a hand, which she took, and pulled her to her feet. He went to reload the shotgun, but it had become jammed.

A body burst through the door, barely leaving Joel and Y/n time to react. Joel smacked the butt of his gun into the assailant’s, the almost-fatal shot hitting the ceiling instead. Y/n backed up and took aim, but the man swung around and knocked the shotgun out of her hands. Joel was trying to draw him away from Y/n, but as she went to attack him, she was thrown into Joel and they were backed up against their shelter. They struggled against the man as he tried to shove his gun against their throats.

Even though there were two of them, he quickly overpowered them and pulled them to the floor. He pinned Y/n and Joel down, the rifle big enough to dig into both their throats.

“Now you’re gonna pay, motherfuckers,” he threatened, “What you fuckin’ did, you killed yourself, motherfucker!”

Y/n and Joel began to feel the oxygen drain from their lungs, both of them kicking wildly in a sad attempt to free themselves. The sounds of Y/n’s struggles cut right to Joel’s heart, making him fight harder.

Y/n tried with her remaining strength to push the gun away from them, but without her and Joel at their best, it was fruitless. She gagged, her eyesight was beginning to blur. Their journey couldn’t end here, not like this…

Desperately trying to comfort her in what was assuredly their last moment, Joel’s hand, that was barely brushing Y/n’s, fought to slide a finger over hers. If they were going out, they were going out together.

And then suddenly, the weight lifted from them. Y/n fell onto her side, Joel landing up against her with an arm resting against her convulsing abdomen. They sputtered for air, coughing and hacking as it refilled their chests. Y/n held onto Joel’s arm as she wheezed, gripping him for traction as she tried to draw a true breath.

Joel forced himself up onto his arm, turning around and seeing their salvation came in the form of Ellie and a pistol. He should have known that she wasn’t going to listen…

“No, no, no, no, no,” Joel and Y/n’s attacker cried as Ellie took a step towards him, “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore.”

Finally gaining enough oxygen to see straight, Y/n leaned up, coming face to face with Ellie. Her heart broke at the sight of her, so young, having been forced to make an irreversible decision.

“I’m gonna go home,” the guilty promised, “I’ll tell everyone you’re good,” he began to cry, “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work.”

Joel’s protective arm remained around Y/n the whole time.

“My mom isn’t far,” the man continued to bargain for his life, “If you could get me to her.”

Y/n tapped Joel’s hand, shrugging his arm off as they got to their knees. Joel looked down at their hands, blood smeared on both their palms. The slow stream was coming from the back of Y/n’s hand, the spray of the truck’s glass window had cut her up good.

“We could trade with you guys,” the man tried to reason with a teary-eyed Ellie, “We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan, I’m Bryan. What’s your name?”

Joel and Y/n helped each other up, steadying one another as they got to their feet. The sound of their assailant speaking, trying to be friendly to Ellie set Y/n off. She took a threatening step toward him, Joel had to hold her back by her hips.

They turned to Ellie, who looked like she was somewhere between relieved and tortured. Joel held out a hand, silently demanding the gun still shaking in her palm. She handed it over without hesitation.

Bryan had begun to weep behind them, as if that made any difference to the people whose lives he’d been ready to steal. Joel turned slowly, stuffing the gun in his jacket pocket and pulling out his own pistol.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bryan sniffled, picking up the knife he would have most likely killed Y/n and Joel with and dropping it at their feet, “You can have it. It’s a good knife.”

Joel bent over to pick it up, turning to Ellie after. “Get behind the wall,” he growled.

“No, no, no, no,” Bryan cried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, please, we could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m-“

Ellie looked between him and Y/n, who nodded towards the hole as a back up to Joel’s order. Moving mechanically, Ellie hurried back through the hole to the others side of the building.

Bryan continued to beg for mercy, something Joel had been short on for twenty years. Y/n, usually the more reasonable of the two, stood over the sniffling young man, seething. He’d been ready to kill them like they were nothing. He’d have killed Ellie, or worse, taken her and allowed his friends to commit unspeakable acts to her. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

Joel didn’t bother asking Y/n for her opinion as he stalked forward. He ignored Bryan’s pleas, the shrieking cries for his mother. As he brought the knife down on him, Y/n turned away, desiring justice but unable to watch its delivery.

When it was over, Joel looked over to Y/n, who was turned towards the wall. He didn’t have time to feel any guilt over causing further damage to their past selves. He made his way over to her and took her hand into his, examining the bloody cuts.

“Window,” she choked out, pulling away from his touch, “I’ll clean it later.”

Joel nodded, there were no other options. “Ellie,” he called out, “We gotta get in there. We can’t fit through.”

“There’s some stuff against the door,” she replied.

“Well, can you move it?” Joel asked.

Y/n and Joel hurried around the back of the laundromat and to the side entrance to the building Ellie was hidden in. They leaned their collective weight against the door, the screech of a desk sliding on the other side. They burst through together, slamming the door shut after.

“Let’s go,” Joel hurried to help Ellie, “Fast.”

The three of them slid the desk back against the door, barricading themselves for the time being. It left them with nothing other than the reality of what happened sinking in on them.

“I’m okay,” Ellie was quick to say, reaching for her pack, “I’m good. I, uh, got some food in here still, and I got your light still.”

“What now?” Ellie asked.

“We go up,” Joel answered, already on the move.

“To get a better look?”

“Hopefully we spot a clear route out,” Joel opened the door that would lead them outside, “Stay close.”

Ellie nodded, “Got it.”

The three of them moved through the back room of the building, daylight greeting them as they found their way outside. Joel led them along the alley, finding cover behind an old car. They could hear the attacker’s calls for Bryan and the subsequent ones of terror when they found his body.

Joel cut across the street, shining his light through the opposite building’s door. Deeming it safe, he gestured for Y/n and Ellie to meet him. They ran through it, closing the door quietly behind them.

“Stairs?” Y/n asked, pulling out her pistol while Joel manned the flashlight.

Joel led them through the dark, the three of them flying up the steps in order to try and seek some vantage point. When they couldn’t find one, they headed back to the first level.

They snaked through holes, doors and carefully across streets, always avoiding whatever noise was just a few blocks over.

Eventually, they landed in a bar with newspapers plastered against the windows. It was the quietest street they’d found yet and safe for the time being. Joel monitored the city through the small chunk of exposed glass as sounds grew closer, watching as trucks and tanks rolled down the street.

Y/n was seated at the table, the first aid kid open and her hand stretched out. There were at least a dozen small shards of glass stuck in her skin, blood slowly trickling around them. It was going to be a bitch getting them out.

“They’re not FEDRA,” Ellie recounted the discussion they’d just had, “They’re not Fireflies. Who are they?”

“People,” Joel answered as he continued to watch.

“Are we okay in here?”

“Yeah, for now, but we gotta keep-“ Y/n’s gasp interrupted her sentence as she poured rubbing alcohol across the back of her hand. “We gotta keep moving,” she strained.

Joel’s attention was drawn away by Y/n’s cry of pain, but he made sure to look back through the window one more time. “Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first. But they’ll be comin’ through these places soon enough.”

“So we zig when they zag,” Y/n stated, sanitizing her pair of tweezers.

Joel got up and Ellie took his spot at the window, he moved towards the table.

“There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away,” Ellie reported.

“Yeah, saw it,” Joel replied.

“So that’s the one?” Ellie asked.

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck,” Joel said, “We move. Fast as we can.”

Joel came to sit across from Y/n, watching as she carefully began to pull pieces of glass from her skin. She was trying her best to hold back tears, her lip trembling as she bit down on it. His fingers practically twitched to help her, telling himself to hold back as much as he could.

Y/n’s hand began to shake as she reached for another shard, whimpering when she accidentally nudged it deeper into the cut.

“Here,” Joel offered, though it was more an order. He held out a hand for the tweezers.

“I’ve got it,” Y/n mumbled wetly, speaking past the lump in her throat.

“I know you do,” Joel replied softly, the softest tone he’d taken with her in twenty years. He looped his fingers through the vice-like grip she had on her tool, gently pulling it down to the table. “Here.”

Y/n was in too much pain to fight, and she knew Joel would get it done quick. She allowed him to take her injured hand into his, the sensation of his touch against her palm sending a jolt through them both.

Joel worked with precision, carefully pulling each shard out of each cut. Y/n would let out a small whine every once in a while, but he didn’t stop to look at her. The faster he moved, the faster her pain would end.

Y/n tried to focus on anything, anything other than the pain. That thing ended up being Joel’s hands. The rough callouses against her wrist, the occasional brush of his knuckle as he worked, the length of his fingers in comparison to hers. In the heat of misery, she couldn’t see what a dangerous place her mind was in. All she could see was Joel.

Once he was done, Joel collected the bloody shards in a piece of gauze and stuck them in the first aid kit. They couldn’t leave any trail. Y/n reached into the box and pulled out a bandage roll. Joel placed a large gauze pad over the back of her hand and unrolled the spool. He pulled Y/n’s hand closer to him across the table, lifting it up as he wrapped it in the material. He handled her with all the delicacy he could muster.

Y/n watched him wrap her hand, thinking of the last time he’d been this soft with her. For as rough around the edges as Joel had always been, there was a tenderness that had only ever been reserved for her and Sarah. To feel it again was to travel twenty years into the past, to feel their fingers intertwine as they laid in bed or walked down the street…

She almost forgot about her anger, just for a moment.

Joel secured the bandage and gently set her hand back on the table. They peered up at one another, the cautious look in their eyes saying more than their lips ever could.

“Thank you,” Y/n muttered.

Joel simply nodded, retracting his hands back into his sides. Reintroducing the feel of Y/n’s skin was dangerous, muscle memory was sure to seek out and seek more and more of it. He balled up his fists and set them in his lap.

Settled, Y/n glanced over at Ellie, who was seated against the wall with her knees to her chest. With a minute of calm on their side, they were all trying to deal with what had happened after the crash.

“Are you guys okay?” Ellie asked.

Y/n held up her bandaged hand, one side of her mouth twitching upwards.

“I’m all right,” Joel answered, looking anywhere but at Ellie as he struggled, “Are you…all right?”

“Yeah,” Ellie mumbled quickly.

Joel fiddled with his hand, there was a duality to him he didn’t know how to properly function out of. Twenty years of burying your feelings could leave you severely impaired by the time you needed to access them again.

“Thing is, I didn’t hear that guy comin’,” he sighed.

“Neither of us did,” Y/n looked up, her and Joel’s eyes meeting again in mutual guilt.

Joel turned back to Ellie, “You shouldn’t have had to…you know.”

“Well, you’re glad I did, right?” Ellie asked, needing reassurance that she’d done the right thing.

Good and bad were so muddled, post-pandemic. Y/n was glad she’d kept her life, but it came at the expense of another piece of Ellie’s innocence. What was she supposed to say?

“Thing is, you’re just a kid,” Joel said for the both of them, “You shouldn’t know what it means to…” he diverted his eyes, desperately searching for the magic words to make her feel any better, “It’s not like you killed him. But shootin’ or…” he sighed, “I know what it’s like, first time that you, uh, hurt someone like that.”

Y/n stayed quiet, unable to watch Joel’s painful attempt. She knew the moment he was referring to, and it hadn’t been the dick in the bar all those years ago.

“If you, uh,” Joel tried, stuttering on consonants after, “I’m not good at this.”

“Yeah,” Ellie numbly agreed, “You really aren’t.”

“I mean it was my fault,” Joel rushed out, glancing over to Y/n, “Our fault. You shouldn’t have had to,” he made sure to look in Ellie’s eyes, “And I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Y/n added, her throat nearly clogging up.

Ellie soaked in their words, hurriedly wiping away at the tears welling in her eyes. It only made Joel and Y/n feel worse about their mistake.

“It wasn’t my first time,” Ellie spoke up, not looking in either of their directions.

While they were both emotionally guarded, Y/n was the more available between her and Joel. Her heart still beat for those in need. She got up from the table and came to Ellie, sliding down the wall until she was sitting next to her. She didn’t reach out, she just wanted Ellie to know that she wasn’t alone.

Joel’s way of showing he cared bled through in the way he protected. If he could ensure his people were safe, he could breathe easier.

He got down on his knees in front of Ellie, unloading her pistol from his pocket and handing it back to her.

“Show me your grip,” he said, “Finger off the trigger.”

Ellie held up the gun, barely concealing her joy at finally getting to learn.

“Now who taught you that?” Joel asked.

“FEDRA school,” she answered.

“Figures,” he muttered, Y/n scoffed alongside him. He maneuvered Ellie’s fingers, “Your thumb over your thumb. Left hand squeezes down on the right.”

Y/n reached out with her good hand, tucking one of Ellie’s stray fingers in. “Pinkies in,” she smirked, “There’s no princesses here.”

“There you go,” Joel sat back, “Look it.”

He tugged on the gun, trying to pull the gun from Ellie’s grip, but it held. She giggled as he yanked her forward.

“Okay?” Joel said sternly.

Ellie nodded, a smile still painted across her face.

Joel loaded the cartridge back into the weapon and safely handed it back to Ellie, who went to stuff it in her pocket.

“Uh-uh,” Joel shook his head, “You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.”

Y/n turned her head away and snickered, still not wanting to give Joel the satisfaction of getting a laugh out of her. Joel got to his feet and extended a hand out to her. Y/n begrudgingly took it and let him pull her up.

Noting that outside had gone quiet, Joel nodded towards the door. Him and Y/n headed over and began ripping off the rotten wood boards nailed over the entrance. They had one clean shot at the high rise, they couldn’t make any missteps.

They paused when Ellie approached, both of them wanting her to trust that they’d get her to safety.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Y/n said, trying to make herself believe it too.

“I know,” Ellie muttered, the levity of the past moment having disappeared.

Joel and Y/n’s gazes met, neither one sure of what there was to say. They were developing their language through their silence, the nail biting seconds between safety and risking their lives. It was a level they had never connected on, because there had never been a need.

“Let’s go,” Y/n said softly.

Inhaling, Joel opened the door and they filed out into the empty street, bolting for the building they hoped would shelter them…

—————————

The journey to the high rise didn’t go as easy as they’d hoped, having to dip and duck into abandoned shops and restaurants. With the dark having blanketed them on the way, their arrival felt like an even bigger win when they got there.

There was the small task of getting in to the building.

Joel, Ellie and Y/n stared up at the vent that would grant them access to unlock the door.

“Alright, short stack,” Y/n announced to Ellie, “You’re up.”

Ellie, eager to be a part in any way she could, stepped forward. Joel nabbed a loose piece of wood resting against the wall and handed it to her.

“We’ll brace you,” Joel said, “Be careful going through, could be a long drop.”

“Got it,” Ellie nodded.

Joel bent down, locking his hands together. “You’re just gonna put your foot there,” he instructed.

“Okay,” Ellie breathed. Y/n was standing by, waiting to be needed.

“One, two,” Joel counted before lifting Ellie up.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” the girl said, panicked. Y/n jumped in and steadied her hips.

“Straighten up,” Joel directed, “I got you.”

Ellie stiffened her body, getting traction in the safety of Y/n and Joel’s arms, and rammed the wood into the vent. It clattered to the building’s floor. Joel and Y/n helped thread her through the hole, dusting off their hands after.

“Okay, I’m in,” Ellie called.

“Take a look around first,” Joel told her, the sound of her sneakers hitting the floor defiantly, “Ellie!”

“Come on,” Y/n grumbled, following the clattering noises Ellie made straight to the door. It swung open.

“Where would you be without me, huh?” Ellie asked proudly.

“By now, Wyoming,” Joel replied as he and Y/n walked through.

“Oh, yeah,” Ellie admitted, “Walked into that one.”

They carefully made their way through the mess-ridden building, it looked like it had once been a loading dock. A stray car, multiple signs on the walls with instructions and packing materials scattered across the floor.

“All right, we’ll make our way up,” Joel laid out the plan, “And come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.”

Y/n walked ahead and pushed open the door that led to the stairs, Joel shining his light behind her.

“We’re going up 42 flights?” Ellie asked.

“45,” Joel answered, flicking the light upward to reveal the dauntingly tall structure, “But no, not all the way.”

“How far then?” Y/n asked.

Joel heavily sighed, “As far as I can make it.”

Ellie laughed while Y/n rolled her eyes, their fate was to be determined by Joel’s knees.

The cockiness should have been saved for later, or ignored entirely.

After the tenth flight, Y/n was huffing and puffing along with Joel. Years of fighting and manual labor hadn’t been kind to either of them, but the day’s exhausting circumstances weren’t helping.

“Not so easy, is it?” Joel quipped, following Y/n’s panting, hunched over form.

“Fuck…” Y/n drew a deep breath as she turned another corner, “You…Miller.”

“Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt?” Ellie asked, changing the subject, “How did you guys know it was an ambush?”

Joel and Y/n paused on their respective steps, feeling weight drop on them for different reasons.

“I can’t speak for him,” Y/n answered, drawing a breath, “But when I made my way up to Boston, there were all sorts of people trying all sorts of things. Stories get through the QZ too. People saying that they lost loved ones to raiders…” Y/n shook her head, “It’s a fucking disgusting business.”

Joel almost grimaced, resting against the railing. How the hell was he supposed to answer now?

“I’ve been on both sides,” he admitted, “It was a long time ago, we did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” Ellie asked.

“And the people we were with,” Joel continued, not knowing which bit of what he was about to say would affect Y/n more, “My brother, too.”

Y/n was braced against the railing, gripping the bar so tight she knew her knuckles were white. Joel was different now, a completely transformed man from the one she’d known. She had watched him kill, torture and separate entirely from his heart. But much like when he beat up the FEDRA guard back in the QZ, there was a part of her that didn’t want to believe the man she’d loved was fully gone.

Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe no one could stay pure in a world of bloodshed.

“Did you kill innocent people?”

Ellie’s question gave Y/n the burst of energy she needed to get up the next flight of stairs and she fled the conversation

The thing about knowing someone better than you know yourself is that the connection is forever. No matter how many changes either person goes through, no matter how much life beats them down and time rusts them…there are inherent pieces of their personality that remain the same. In each footstep that carried Y/n up the stairs, Joel felt the shame of his past choices ache a little more inside his soul. Somewhere, six layers underneath her bitterness, lay the heart of a woman who wouldn’t naturally hurt a fly. And here he was, having undergone a hideous transformation that could have given fairytales a run for their money.

If Y/n was a gentle sweep of rain, Joel was a hurricane, bringing death and destruction wherever he went.

“C’mon,” he said to Ellie, the only answer he could manage.

They climbed a little longer before Joel called out to Y/n, one flight above them. “Stop.”

Y/n paused, reluctantly descending to meet them where they were. Joel opened the door to their designated floor, out of breath and willpower.

“Holy shit,” Ellie breathed, short on oxygen, but better than Y/n or Joel.

Joel backed up against the wall, sliding down to the floor in exhaustion. “Yeah.”

“Thirty three floors,” Ellie continued cheerily, “That’s good.”

Y/n was bent over, bracing herself against her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

“It’s gonna have to be,” Joel panted.

Ellie extended a hand to him, “Come on.”

“Gimme a minute,” he complained, he wasn’t even sure he could move.

Ellie wasn’t having any of it, she knew what would motivate Joel. “Get up, you lazy ass.”

Y/n snorted, earning a glare from Joel. She didn’t shy away from staring back at him.

Joel reached up and took Ellie’s outstretched palm, “Lazy ass,” he grumbled, walking past both girls, “Fifty six years old, you little shit.”

Ellie laughed, Y/n patting her on the back as she walked past.

Joel grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and rammed it into the glass door of one of the apartments. He let Y/n and Ellie in first before entering himself.

“Oh, sweet,” Ellie exclaimed, dropping her backpack in the middle of the room, “There’s a couch.”

“Hallelujah,” Y/n replied, setting her bag down as well, while Ellie began rounding up the cushions.

Joel pulled out a drawer form one of the cabinets, carefully collecting the glass shards he’d created and shaking them across the floor. Y/n acknowledged it was a good idea, a makeshift alarm system, while she helped Ellie build their beds.

“Joel,” Ellie called, confused as to what she was watching. He didn’t reply. “Joel…”

Y/n spoke up, “Joel.”

He turned quickly, “What?”

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleepin’,” he explained.

“Oh,” Ellie elongated, “I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?”

“Of course I’ll hear it,” Joel replied, impatiently, “That’s the damn point.”

“Okay,” Ellie said, laying down on her couch cushion bed.

The dilemma Y/n faced was simple: two beds, three people. The easiest thing was to share with Ellie, which she was on her way to do when Ellie starfished, blocking any extra room she had.

“Come on,” Y/n urged, nudging the bottom cushion with her boot, “I’m exhausted.”

“There’s a perfectly good bed over there,” she nodded towards Joel’s section of the floor.

The ex-lover’s eyes met, panic in their gazes.

“Absolutely not,” Y/n stated, turning back to Ellie.

“Why?” Ellie replied, faux innocence in her tone and a smirk on her face, “Shouldn’t be a problem if you two are getting along.”

Every part of Y/n’s body wanted to jump through the apartment’s window and take her chances leaping to her death. Anything was preferable to sharing a bed with Joel again.

Joel felt the same way, he didn’t need to feel any more confused around Y/n than he already was. Laying beside her again would just be another punishment from some higher power.

“I’ll take the floor,” Joel reluctantly offered.

“What, so we have to listen to you complain about your back all day?” Y/n replied, “No, I’ll take the floor.”

“You’re gonna be fuckin’ miserable if you do,” Joel brought up, “And you’ll slow us down.”

Y/n paused, taking a deep breath, trying to get over herself enough to realize Joel was right. They both needed rest.

“Fine,” she conceded, “Back to back.”

Joel nodded, the two of them kneeling down beside the cushions and balling up their jackets.

It was an awkawrd dance, trying to maneuver themselves onto the narrow bed without touching too much. Y/n had to wiggle around, clinging to the edge of the cushion so she wouldn’t fall off. Inevitably, the entirety of their bodies ended up pressed together like magazine pages. Twenty years ago, it was the moment where one of them would flip over and wrap their arms around the other as they drifted off to sleep. Now, they lay stiff as boards, trying not to set off any memories or sensations.

“Well, goodnight,” Ellie said, comfortably curled up in a ball.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Joel grunted.

“Goodnight,” Y/n was facing Ellie and her smirk, “You little shit.”

Joel shut his eyes, trying to force himself to fall asleep quickly. But there was an unfinished part of his day that he couldn’t let go of.

“Ellie,” he called.

“Yeah?”

“When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people,” he recalled, “What did you mean it wasn’t your first time?”

Ellie stiffened, rolling over onto her back, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Y/n watched the girl’s countenance change, for as much as they’d gotten to know each other the last few weeks, they didn’t actually know anything. There was blood on both their hands and Ellie wanted the dark of night to hide hers. Y/n couldn’t blame her.

“All right,” Joel conceded, only for a second, before rolling over on his other side. Y/n could feel him shift and knew he was trying to face Ellie. She flipped onto her back so he could see across the room.

“You don’t have to,” Joel continued, trying to keep his body as compact as possible, “Just sayin’…it isn’t fair, your age…havin’ to deal with all this.”

Y/n tried to steady her inhale, Joel’s warm breath fanned over her face, setting her nerve endings alight. The window idea was looking better and better…

Ellie turned her head to face the adults, “So it gets easier when you get older?”

“It never gets easier,” Y/n spoke up, attempting to release some of the pressure inside her from her own sins, “It just…you shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff yet.”

Joel’s eyes traveled over Y/n’s face, seeing all the pieces of her he couldn’t recognize. There were two decades of her life he had been absent for. Just as he carried stories and scars earned over time, she did too. It still hurt to see her hurt.

“The reason I asked whether you’d hear the glass or not,” Ellie flipped over to face Joel and Y/n, “Is ‘cause I’ve noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side. Is it cause you were shot there?”

Y/n twisted her head to get a look at Joel’s ear. She’s gathered enough information to make an educated guess, but years of fighting had taught her that it took more than one bullet to take out someone’s hearing.

Joel glanced down at Y/n, their breaths mingling in the small space left between them. It would have been so easy to lean down, or even just touch her cheek. Such intimacies belonged in their past life, but Joel could feel his resolve slipping with each second he spent in bed with her.

Y/n felt the draw too. She felt weak for admitting that through her anger, she was still as drawn to Joel as she had been the night they’d met. He may have changed in every way conceivable, but with the small taste she was getting of his body, she knew his firm frame was the same as she remembered. Something about that tortured Y/n more than if he’d completely transformed.

They were wading in dangerous waters.

“Probably more from shootin’,” Joel answered, swallowing hard and turning back over on his side, “So if you wanna keep your hearin’, you stick to that knife.”

The action of moving brought Y/n out of whatever trance she’d been in. She felt fucking weak, feeling any sort of attraction to the man who’d broken her heart. Rolling back onto her side, she shut her eyes and tried to calm her body down.

“Joel,” Ellie said softly, “Y/n.”

They answered at the same time, “Hm?”

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

Y/n carefully moved the sleeve of her jacket to block her twitching mouth.

Joel barely turned over, “What?”

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, “It runs in your jeans.”

He twisted to get a look at Ellie, who was smirking at them both, and fell back onto his side.

Y/n was desperately trying to contain her giggling, practically holding her breath.

Facing away from them, Joel smirked and muttered something to himself. A whisper of a chortle escaped him. “That is so damn stupid,” he admonished.

“You laughed, motherfucker,” Ellie giggled.

“I didn’t laugh,” Joel shot back.

“Yes, you did,” Ellie replied.

“I’m losin’ it.”

“You’re losin’ it big time,” Ellie grinned.

Y/n snorted, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I knew it would work again,” Ellie exclaimed, lording the two-time award winning joke over Y/n’s head. It was the only one in the book that got her to crack.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” Y/n laughed, digging her entire face into her jacket.

All it took was hearing the sweet melody again, and Joel was pushed over the edge. He had been on pins and needles since meeting her again, naturally waiting to hear Y/n laugh again. In their life, circumstances didn’t occur often that gave you the opportunity to find humor. He’d accepted he may never hear it again. And now, with her back shaking against his, he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.

As soon as Joel’s shakes being to reverberate off her body, Y/n felt a wave of grief and relief come over her. To hear his giggles, a sound only she’d ever been privy to, felt like coming home after a long day. She wanted to fight it, to rage against all pleasant memories of him, but she wanted a moment of peace more. She wanted to laugh.

Ellie was the loudest of them all, reigning victorious over Joel and Y/n’s stubbornness. It was so needed after the day they’d had.

“Go to sleep,” Joel said, his chuckle contradicting his order.

“You go to sleep,” Ellie laughed, rolling on her bed.

“Both of you go to sleep,” Y/n snorted, her voice lighting up the darkest parts of Joel.

There were two more rounds of giggling, one started by Ellie and one by Y/n. Joel couldn’t stop from joining both. It was the first moment of joy, true joy, that he’d felt in twenty years.

——————

At some point in their sleep, Y/n and Joel inevitably turned over. Y/n had been keeping her hands close to her chest, cradling the injured one. And somewhere in the timeline of the evening, Joel had unconsciously reached over and placed one of his hands over them both. How he blindly found it, how he knew she was trying to protect it, those answers belonged to the blanket of night. But Joel’s fingers wrapped around her bloody fist, protecting her even in his sleep.

He had also rolled over on his good ear.

“Y/n…Y/n.”

Y/n jumped at the call of her name, looking down at her and Joel’s intertwined hands and pulling back. She twisted onto her back, jumping back at the sight of the child standing over her, pointing a gun at them. Her peripheral vision caught Ellie with her hands up in surrender and a man with his own weapon aimed at her.

“Joel,” Y/n raised her hands, kicking her ex in the shin, “Joel!”

He startled awake.

——————

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lostfracturess · 2 months

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【 ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 】 8

x PAIRING gojo satoru x fem!reader (main); megumi fushiguro x fem!reader x WORD COUNT 10.2 k x SUMMARY you never wanted to become part of the world of jujutsu sorcerers, yet fate had other plans when the one and only satoru gojo took you under his wing at jujutsu high. as the lines between student and teacher begin to blur, hidden powers surge to life, and a deadly target is set on your head. x WARNINGS + NOTES this story contains partly abusive and possessive behavior, explicit content, graphic depictions of violence, injury, combat and angst. you can also read it on wattpad or ao3. pls like or repost if you enjoyed ♡

➸ ch 1; ch 2; ch 3; ch 4; ch 5; ch 6; ch 7

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈.

You barely raised your blade in time, the impact of Satoru's iron fist nearly jolting it from your grasp. You did your best to stand your ground. But that's easier said than done against the strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

Sweat trickled down your forehead, stinging your eyes. You and Satoru had been at this for what seemed like an eternity. Your arms ached. Your lungs burned. But you wanted it that way. You told him not to stop unless you told him to.

You had sparred before. But today was different—there was an intensity in his eyes you hadn't seen before. It made you wonder if he'd always held back when he was training you.

In a blur, Satoru seized your wrist—a sharp yank, and your katana clattered away. He kicked it aside, eyes locked on yours. Then came a low, sweeping strike, targeting your legs. You jumped back, barely evading the strike, pain shooting through your ankle. But you forced yourself to stay upright.

"You think too much," Satoru said. "Clear your mind. Feel the flow of my cursed energy. Concentrate on me. Not my attacks."

"It's a bit hard when you're trying to kill me," you shot back.

"You wanted this," he reminded you.

Okay, you did tell him not to hold back, but for God's sake, you've lost count of how many times you've been hit today. And he seems to be enjoying this a bit too much.

Without warning, Satoru lunged forward again. Your body reacted on instinct. You dodged to the side just as his hand sliced through the space where your head had been moments earlier. The rush of air against your cheek the only reminder of how close you'd come to a direct hit.

"Too slow," he scolded.

Satoru reset his stance, poised for the next strike. He was merciless. You gritted your teeth. You barely managed to block and dodge his attacks, feeling the rush of air as his strikes narrowly missed your skin. Your own counterattacks always a split second too slow. The sand beneath your feet shifted with each movement, challenging your balance.

"Come on, focus," he urged.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Gradually, you found yourself driven back, each step taking you closer to the water's edge. The waves lapped at your feet, their cold touch startling against your heated skin. Your breathing grew heavier, each inhale torturous. Your muscles ached.

Suddenly, Satoru feinted to the left but struck from the right, catching you off-guard. You stumbled backwards, lost your balance and fell onto the wet sand.

Before you could straighten up, Satoru stood towering over you. His silhouette etched against the sky. "You need a break?"

You lay there for a moment longer, chest heaving, grains of sand clinging to your skin. "No," you managed to gasp out.

"Then stand," he commanded.

You rolled onto your side, struggling to stand up. You wanted to vomit.

"You're reacting based on what you see," his eyes narrowed. "That won't give you control in a fight. You need to sense my next moves, anticipate my attacks."

"Easier said than done when you have the six eyes," you retorted, finally standing upright.

"You don't need the six eyes to do that."

"And how the fuck am I supposed to 'feel' your attacks?"

"You just—" Satoru made a vague, sweeping gesture with his hands in the air. "—feel it, like—"

"Satoru, has anyone ever told you you're a terrible teacher?"

"Ouch," he shook his head with a smirk. "Let's try something different then."

He stepped closer, his hand delving into the pocket of his training pants, searching for something. "You trust me?" he asked.

"Depends."

He moved behind you, his breath hot against your neck. "Why so cautious, love?"

Darkness enveloped your world as he placed his blindfold over your eyes, securing it with a firm tug that drew an involuntary gasp from you.

"Don't tell me I don't know exactly what you need," his words brushed against your ear. He pulled at the blindfold, tilting your head back, his lips grazing the side of your neck ever so slightly. "—know exactly where to put the right amount of pressure."

Your heartbeat quickened. But no—not now.

"Satoru, are we training or are you trying to fuck me?"

He gave a soft chuff, his lips curling into a smile, "Depends."

He released his grip on the blindfold. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The cool breeze from the sea gently brushed your face, carrying with it the faint scent of salt as you stood still, waiting for him to continue.

"Focus," he said, his presence circling around you. "Let your other senses lead you." Gently, he lifted your hand and pressed it against his chest. His heart beats steady underneath your palm. "Feel my cursed energy," he pressed your hand even tighter against his chest. "You don't need to see me. I want you to feel me."

You bit your bottom lip in concentration. The sensation of his cursed energy was like a pulsating force, a rhythm you could almost grasp. You vaguely understood what he was trying to teach you. You focused, trying to attune yourself to its flow, to understand its movements and intentions without the aid of sight.

"Good girl," he brought your hand to his lips, placing a quick kiss on your knuckles. Then he stepped back, and suddenly the air around him shifted.

"I won't hold back," he declared.

"Alri—"

Before you could finish, Satoru launched into action. His fist hurtled towards your face with lightning speed. You pivoted, narrowly dodging. But he was quick to follow up. Another attack came from the right, catching you off-guard. It sent you stumbling backward, coughing from the impact. The taste of iron filled your mouth.

He was serious.

He gave you no time to think, only to react. You felt another strike, pushing you even further back. You barely managed to avoid his next move. You held your breath. Dropping to the ground, you dodged a high kick. It was a close call.

Fuck.

He was dead serious.

You tried to focus on the rustle of his clothes, the shifting sand beneath his feet, and the pulsing flow of his cursed energy. But he was so fucking fast. He unleashed a flurry of strikes. You managed to block the first few. Then they started landing, each more painful than the last.

"Focus," he paused for a second. Then lunged at you once more.

You blocked his fist, feeling a brief sense of achievement. But it was fleeting. In a swift move, he seized your ankle. Suddenly, you were airborne. You crashed into the ocean, the sudden biting cold shocking you to the core.

You gasped for air, struggling against the crushing waves. In an instant, Satoru was upon you, pressing you down under the water, his hand tight around your throat. His fist drew back, then shot forward. You jerked your head aside at the last moment. His fist slammed into the sand, inches from your face.

He was for real trying to kill you.

Another wave crashed over you, stealing your breath. Water filled your lungs. In desperation, you slammed your knee up into his midsection. He released his grip and staggered backward. You surfaced, gasping sharply for air.

You struggled to get up, your clothes drenched and heavy. Your left side hurt awfully. Probably a broken rib—a slow heal without Shoko's aid. Blood dripped from the corner of your mouth. You wiped it away and stepped out of the water onto the beach.

You could feel his presence, circling around you like a predator around its prey. You had to pivot constantly, tracking his every move. You could hear the faint sound of his breathing, the light touch of his feet on the sand, feel the movement of his cursed energy. Guiding you—turning you to face him each time.

With a quick movement, you ducked under his next attack, feeling the air shift as his arm swept overhead. You struck back, his cursed energy guiding your arm. Your hand grazed fabric, a near miss, but it was progress. A small smile tugged at your lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he cautioned. Then his cursed energy flared.

It was a warning.

He launched a punch, his fists burning with the blue hue of his cursed energy. You twisted away just in time, the heat of his cursed energy rushing past you.

Is he for real—Is he for real using fucking cursed energy now?

You cursed under your breath. Then, you spotted your katana, a faint trace of your own cursed energy subtly marking its location. It laid a few feet away—behind Satoru.

You lunged towards him, even as he charged towards you. Satoru swiped his leg up, aiming to knock you down. You ducked and rolled under his leg, emerging on the other side. Your hand closed around the katana's hilt, lifting it just in time to counter his next assault. You channeled your own cursed energy into the blade, pushing back against his force.

"Stop holding back!" Satoru yelled. "Fight like you mean it!"

He moved again, his movements a blur. In an instant, he was upon you. His fist jabbed towards your chest. You sidestepped, feeling the air shift as his strike missed. Your katana arced through the air, aiming straight for his head.

Satoru reacted instantly. He spun, dodging your blade. The katana sliced only air. He pivoted, launching a kick. You barely blocked it with your right forearm. The impact sent pain shooting up your arms, but you stood firm.

"Fuck, Satoru, what are you trying to do here?" you gasped, your defenses wavering.

"I'm teaching you a lesson," he replied.

Satoru kept up the pressure, each move sharp and forceful. You were constantly on the defensive, retreating step by step. The soft sand of the beach gave way to the firmer ground as you neared the house.

You backed onto the driveway, but there was no break in his onslaught. Each parry and dodge took all your effort. Suddenly, with a powerful kick, Satoru sent you hurtling backwards against his parked car. The windows shattered instantly upon impact.

The cold metal frame bore into your back. Slumped against the car's hood, you gasped for air, spitting blood. Your vision blurred. But then, something within you shifted. Your senses sharpened, adjusting to Satoru's every move. You felt the energy pulsating from him. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Now, even blindfolded, you could sense him closing in—could sense what he was about to do.

The air around Satoru seemed to thrum with cursed energy. He didn't hesitate. You barely had time to raise your katana in defense, the blade glinting in the fading light. But it was in vain for what was to come.

He aimed at you and unleashed a Black Flash. The surrounding air twisted, his cursed energy darkening to an inky black. The world seemed to slow down.

Your katana collided with Satoru's attack, unleashing a shockwave. It tore through you like lightning, reverberating through every bone. The force pushed you brutally into the car. The metal creaked under the immense pressure until it broke. The ground underneath fractured, stones splitting. You clenched your teeth, fighting against the onslaught.

Was that still part of the training?

Or had he gone mad?

He might just fire a purple hollow at you for good measure.

His fist bore down on the blade, pushing relentlessly even as his flesh sliced through the blade. Another sharp pain shot through you—perhaps a second rib had succumbed to his force. Satoru's eyes burned, never leaving your gaze.

"Fight!" he commanded.

That was the breaking point, the thin thread of control snapping. Your instincts took over. Harnessing your own cursed technique, you reached out to the coursing energy of his attack. You had reversed it once; you could do it again. His cursed energy writhed and twisted, resisting your control, but you held firm.

Then, with a defiant cry, you redirected the Black Flash back at Satoru, pushing the blade against him. His eyes widened in shock. The reversed attack struck him with a force he hadn't anticipated, forcing him backwards.

His feet dragged through the sand, leaving deep trails as he fought for balance. But it was in vain. He crashed into a nearby tree with such force that it splintered instantly upon impact.

Seizing the moment, you leapt into action. Your body moved on pure instinct. Spotting an opening, you feigned a move to the left, then swiftly struck to the right with your katana. The blade found its mark, slicing into Satoru's shoulder—sending a surge of cursed energy through him. He stumbled back, a rare look of surprise flashing across his face.

For a brief moment, everything was still. The only sounds were the heavy breathing of you both and the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore.

You tore the blindfold from your eyes, your gaze immediately found Satoru. Blood oozed from his shoulder. Panic rushed through you. Quickly, you withdrew your katana, the blade slick with blood.

Why didn't he use his infinity?

"I'm so sorry, Satoru, I didn't mean—" Your apology was cut short. In an instant, Satoru closed the distance between you. His hand gripped your neck, pulling you into a sudden, violent kiss. His lips set your skin immediately on fire. Burning away the fatigue and pain that had you felt seconds ago. Making you forget the cold of your drenched clothes.

"Satoru, wait—" you tried to speak, your eyes catching a glimpse of the still-bleeding wound on his shoulder.

"Shut up," he breathed against your lips. "I need you—now."

His hands grasped your waist. In one swift motion, he lifted you up, not once breaking the kiss. You wrapped your legs around him as he moved towards the house. Your fingers weaved through his hair, drawing him even closer, responding to each of his intense kisses with equal fervor. A hunger for more, a need to feel every inch of him, skin against skin, overwhelmed you.

He pushed the door open and kicked it shut behind you. In an instant, he had you pinned against the wall beside the door. Your mouths collided again, taking the breath straight out of your lungs. You didn't care. You didn't need it anyway. All you needed was him.

His fingers worked hastily, peeling away layers of clothing. With his bare chest now exposed, you could see the wound on his shoulder slowly closing. Oh, how you wished you could use reverse cursed technique yourself.

He spun you around, your chest pressed against the wall. His hand found your throat and gripped tightly, a gasp escaping your lips. His other arm stretched above you, palm against the wall, enclosing you in his embrace. You could feel his arousal through his pants pressing against you. You arched into him, rubbing up and down against his bulge. A low moan escaped his lips.

"I swear to God, you could make me come with just that," he murmured before his mouth trailed down your neck, sucking and biting, his breath hot and wet against your throat. Heat floods your body in an addictive rush, setting every inch of skin on fire as you felt how hard he was for you.

"Fuck, I need you so bad," he breathed out. Effortlessly, he lifted you and carried you to the couch, throwing you down. Quickly, he removed both your pants and his.

Leaning over you, he speared his fingers through your hair, forcing your head back. "Open your mouth," he commanded and you complied, your tongue instinctively responding. Spit escaped his lips and fell against your tongue. Then his tongue plunged into your mouth again, sliding against your tongue to mingle his spit with yours.

You moaned into his mouth, hands roaming over his back, fingers digging into his skin, feeling the play of muscles beneath, all your pain suddenly gone. Now there was only desire. He closed the gap, pressing his bare chest against yours.

He groaned your name against your lips, sliding his hand between your thighs. He slid the fabric of your underwear across your clit, expertly using it for friction. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, yearning for more. "Fuck, Satoru," you gasped, your voice laced with longing. You could feel him smirking against your lips.

He pushed your legs further apart to have better access. Satoru hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, smoothly pulling them down. Without a second wasted, he slid two fingers inside you. Deep. Slow. Painfully slow.

Your eyes fluttered shut, a choked gasp escaping your lips as he plunged deeper, his fingers skillfully finding and hitting your core. You clenched involuntarily around him. He smiled, pleased with the reaction he had on you. "God, you're already dripping," he said. "I barely did anything."

"Shut up," you managed to say, stifling another moan. The feeling of his fingers moving deeply within you was overwhelming. He swirled them, pressing against your inner walls. Your need for him grew intense, a craving for more—faster—harder.

You tried to push your hips down to pump his fingers in and out of you, but he stopped you before you could move an inch. A groan of frustration escaped you. "Stop playing around, Satoru," you said breathlessly, staring at him with pleading eyes that sent all the remaining blood in his brain south.

"Oh love, I haven't even started yet," he whispered before his head also went south. His cock already painfully straining against his boxers, but he wanted to devour you whole before he had his pleasure. He lifted your leg over his shoulder, planting kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Then, he grasped your hips, adjusting you for a better angle. He pressed his mouth to your clit, his tongue alternating between gentle licks and intense, drawn-out pulls. The sensation was overwhelming. Your hand found its way into his hair, gripping tightly as he pushed two fingers inside you once more. His movements of fingers and tongue in perfect sync. A tight coil of tension built rapidly in your core, teetering on the edge of release.

He forced himself to maintain a slow pace, drawing out each of your cries and moans before gradually increasing the pace and intensity until your arousal dripped down his hand. "God, you taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice vibrating against you.

Then, replacing his fingers with his tongue, he delved deeper, his hand pressing on your lower stomach. The sensation of his tongue moving inside you was intoxicating, causing you to squirm beneath him. "I'm so close," you whimpered, feeling the tension building relentlessly.

"I know," he said, his warm breath against your clit drawing another moan from you. You almost teared up, crying out his name in pleasure. "Come for me, love," he encouraged. You tried to stifle your loud moans with your fist, gripping the fabric beneath you with your other hand. Then, as the tension finally broke, your body shook around him, waves of your climax making you shudder uncontrollably.

Breathless, you tried to regain your composure as Satoru continued to gently lick and tease your clit, making your legs twitch. "You get so fucking tight when you come," he said, then meticulously licked you all up.

Satoru wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, savoring the taste of you. His blood pounded with arousal, visible in the strained fabric of his underwear.

"What the fuck did you do to me," he said, pulling you towards him and onto his lap. You slowly began to grind against the hard bulge beneath, feeling his desire palpable against you. His hands found your hips, guiding your movements. He tilted his head back, moans escaping his throat—fuck, he was so hot when he moaned.

"I won't last long if you keep doing that," he warned breathlessly.

"You don't have to," you whispered, trailing kisses along his neck.

"Oh, I do," he groaned in response, his words punctuated by moans. "I want you to fucking feel it, every second of it." He pulled down his boxers, his erection springing free, thick and visibly pulsing with need, pre-cum glistening at the tip.

You wanted him, all of him, inside you—an overwhelming need that eclipsed everything else.

He lifted you by your waist, positioning you right above his tip, holding you there. Your arms rested against the couch, finding support as you subtly moved your hips back and forth over him. A soft wince escaped him, his eyes fluttering shut before his mouth found yours again. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue, blending with the flavor you had come to crave.

Yearning to feel him all inside of you, you tried to lower yourself onto him. But his hold remained steadfast. "Fuck, Satoru," you exhaled, "—just fuck me already."

"Where's the fun with that, love?" he teased, his lips brushing against yours. He then allowed you to sink down just slightly, just enough to feel him at your entrance. It was alluring and frustrating all at once. You moaned, feeling him stretch you just a bit. You craved more, needed more.

"Just the tip," he whispered close to your ear, making your mind reel. He controlled your movements with precision, guiding you up and down in a torturous rhythm that allowed only the tip to slip in and out.

His lips found solace against the curve of your neck, trying to stifle his own cries of pleasure. His breath, heavy and ragged, synchronized with yours, reflecting a shared desperation. You couldn't take it any longer. "Fuck, Satoru, who's torturing who now?"

"Ha, you're right." In one swift motion, he pushed you down entirely onto him. The sudden fullness made you gasp, clawing at his neck. His pace was slow, maddening, each thrust deep and consuming, hitting just the right spots to make you moan uncontrollably against his neck.

"That's it," he moaned. "Take every inch, just like that. You take me so good." His words were punctuated by his deep, hard thrusts, each one driving you closer to the edge. You cried out, your mind emptied of all thoughts except the sensation of his cock pounding into you.

He pushed you back onto the couch, your back arched under him. Satoru's fingers dug into your throat, applying just enough pressure to intensify the sensation between your legs as he continued his hard thrusts.

Your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the growing tension within you, but they snapped open as he tugged sharply at your hair, tilting your head back. "Open your eyes," he commanded. "I want you to look at me while you come."

His grip on your throat tightened, his fingers fitting perfectly around your neck, terrifyingly perfect. "I want you to see exactly who's making you feel this way."

He quickly lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle—making it even better. Your skin grew hotter as he increased his pace, thrusting into you with such force that you would have slid up the couch if not for his firm grip on your throat.

Suddenly, your second orgasm overwhelmed you. Your back arched into him, nails digging into the skin of his back as your body tightened around him. "God, you're tightening—so—fucking—much on—me," he gasped, struggling to get the words out under the intensity of the sensation.

At that moment, Satoru reached his own climax, spilling inside you with a sharp hiss of pain. His eyes remained locked with yours, allowing you to witness every detail of his expression—the furrowing of his brows, his mouth agape, his hair damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead.

Satoru remained motionless for a moment, both of you catching your breath. Breaking the silence, he leaned in for another kiss, gentle and soft. Gradually, he lowered his head to your chest, his breath warm against your skin. He adorned your skin with soft kisses and licks, savoring the salty taste of your skin.

"You did so good," he said as he pulled out, his cum dripping down your legs. His gentle voice was at complete odds with the feral way he'd fucked you. Satoru glanced up at you, his eyes smiling at you, his satisfaction written all over his face. He continued to gently caress you until your breathing returned to normal.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"A bit late for that question, isn't it?" you raised an eyebrow.

His mouth twitched with amusement, though his eyes remained heavy-lidded with desire. He then stepped back, beginning to collect the clothes scattered around the room.

"Did I hurt you?" you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow, your eyes tracing the faint line on his shoulder where your blade had made its mark.

"It's fine," he replied nonchalantly, tossing your clothes in your direction. "But it's strange, my reverse cursed technique doesn't heal me from your attacks as fast. Might be something about your cursed technique."

"Then why'd you lower your infinity earlier?" you asked, catching the clothes.

"Lower it?" He let out a light chuckle. "Not when you're coming at me like that."

"What?"

"You pierced through it. Wasn't that on purpose?"

"No, I—I mean, I wasn't really thinking about it."

Pulling on his pants, Satoru paused. His jaw might just hit the ground.

"You—What? You just redirected my Black Flash, intensified its power, found a flaw in my defense, broke through my infinity and outpaced me—all without even realizing it? I couldn't even track your move with my six eyes, and you're telling me it was just instinct?"

"Yeah, it all just kind of happened."

Satoru started to laugh. He walked over to you and gently cupped your face in his hands. "God, you've become so strong," he said, his voice soft with admiration. His lips met yours in a tender, loving kiss. "I fucking love you so much."

"But you need to learn to control it, not just rely on instinct," he added.

"Is that why you tried to kill me?" You tone suddenly cold.

Satoru flinched slightly at your words. "You know as well as I do, it's the only way to really push your limits. You wouldn't have attacked me like that if I hadn't done it first."

Yeah, what to answer to that.

But it was him. The Satoru you fell in love with. He probably did not know any other way to train you—just brute force or nothing.

He was so different from Megumi.

"When will I be able to face Mahito?" you asked.

He considered for a moment. "You've likely already surpassed Kugisaki and Itadori, maybe even Fushiguro. But you can become even better. You just need more time."

More time. The very thing you did not want to spend. You didn't want to hide, to bide your time. Your gaze drifted away.

"Hey, look at me," Satoru said, guiding your chin back towards him with his hand. "You're strong, you can beat him. Training, taking your time—it's not a weakness."

His piercing blue eyes held yours, almost overwhelming in their intensity. "Okay," you simply said.

"Good girl," he stood up. "Want some coffee?"

"No, I'm good," you replied, rising to dress yourself.

Slowly, the adrenaline wore off, leaving you painfully aware of the injuries the fight had left you with. Everything hurt so awful. You walked over to the glass front of the living room and peered out. Each step painful. It was already getting dark outside.

Carefully, you touched the side of your ribs, assessing the damage. Even the slightest pressure sent a sharp pain through your body. Satoru moved to your side, his gaze lingering on you.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's fine," you said, trying to downplay the pain. But a sharp flinch as you probed your abdomen betrayed you.

"Let me," he said, carefully lifting you onto the countertop of the kitchen. Despite your elevated position, he still stood taller. His hands moved gently over your skin, searching for injuries. As he found each bruise and cut, his movements grew more urgent, his brows furrowing.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, as if he only now fully grasped how deeply he had hurt you. The sight of your pain struck him deeper than any physical wound ever could.

Frantically, he rummaged through a drawer and returned with disinfectant and bandages. Opening the package with a quick tear of his teeth, he carefully began tending to your wounds. Each touch was gentle, but his hands trembled. You winced as the antiseptic stung the cuts.

Suddenly, Satoru's composure cracked, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "If only I could use my reversed cursed technique to heal you—or fuck at least teach it to you—,"

He wiped the back of his hand hastily across his eyes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," he repeated.

Your blood ran cold at his sudden vulnerability, seeing the man who always seemed untouchable, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, now laying bare before you. He looked so young right in this moment. So broken.

"Satoru," you said softly, but he didn't really hear you.

Silence followed. The soft rustle of clothing and the distant lapping of the ocean waves the only sound. Satoru's touch was painstakingly gentle as he wrapped bandages around your abdomen, as if he feared causing you even more pain. He avoided meeting your eyes.

"Satoru, it's okay," you repeated. He did not answer.

"Satoru—," you said again, this time reaching out to grasp his arm, halting his movements. He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and looked up, revealing his red-rimmed eyes—a sight you had never seen before. It nearly made you cry. You never wanted to see him so broken ever again.

"It's okay," you said, holding his gaze. "That's what we do. We fight."

Your words were meant to comfort, but you saw the subtle tension in his jaw, the catch in his throat that betrayed his inner turmoil.

"I hurt you," he said, as if he couldn't really believe it himself.

"You did, and it hurt," you said, cupping his face between your hands to calm his trembling. "But I asked for it. I told you not to hold back, because I need you to train me. It was my choice."

His eyes, usually so bright and playful, were so dark and unfamiliar. "I should have been more careful. I should be the one protecting you, not hurting you. I should—"

"Stop. Satoru, stop. You've always protected me, more than anyone ever has," you insisted, trying to ease his guilt.

He swallowed hard, the tension in his jawline still evident. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I'm fine, Satoru. You could never hurt me. No matter what you do to me."

His gaze lingered on you, searching for the lie in your eyes. He nodded after a second, but the worry didn't fully leave his face.

"And now get me some damn morphine, or I'll pass out,'" you added.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He rummaged through the drawers once more, his movements more composed now. Finding what he was looking for, he handed you a pill and a glass of water. "This should help."

As you took the medication, he resumed tending to your wounds, his touch more confident now.

"I think I may need a new car," he quipped, plucking a small shard of glass from your skin.

"Yeah, that's totally done," you said with a chuckle, but immediately regretted it as you felt a sharp pain again. You winced slightly.

"Easy, love," Satoru said, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before returning to tend to your wounds.

A comfortable silence enveloped the room. You turned slightly and gazed out the window, watching the waves crashing gently against the shore. "It's so beautiful."

Satoru looked at you. "Yes, it is."

"You know we could stay here," he eventually said.

You turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"

"No one knows we're here. We could leave it all behind. Forget the chaos." You could see the pain in his eyes. How much he wanted it. Just to be. Nothing more. Here in this house. As a couple. Away from all danger. It broke your heart to say it.

"That's not us, Satoru. We're sorcerers. We know nothing more than the fray, we deserve nothing more than that. That's our reality."

"I'd give it all up for you."

"No, you wouldn't, Satoru. I know that as well as you do. You thrive in the midst of sorcery, in the thrill of battle. It's as much a part of you as it is of me."

"Doesn't that scare you?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

"Does it scare you?" you echoed back.

"You're insane," he muttered.

"Perhaps," you said with a wicked smile. "But I wouldn't want to marry someone who didn't find sheer pleasure in killing curses."

His eyes widened a fraction. "Is that—are you saying yes?"

"Maybe," your lips curved into a smile. "But first, kiss me."

No sooner had the words left your lips than he was upon you, his mouth pressing fervently against yours, moving in perfect harmony. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, lifting you in a whirl of excitement. "Ahh, Satoru, that hurts," you winced, and he immediately set you down with care. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized quickly.

"I fucking love you," he said as he showered your face with kisses, repeating "I—love—you," with each gentle press of his lips.

You allowed yourself to be enveloped in his affection, savoring each kiss, knowing that whatever was to come was far from easy—far from pretty—far from safe. Dread lingered within you, the feeling that your time together was running out.

You should tell him. Tell him what you're going to do, but—

No.

You didn't want to destroy this moment. You wanted to hold onto this sweet haze a bit longer.

"I love you too, Satoru."

You meant it, more than anything.

****

𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

Megumi, Yuji and Nobara sat around a table in the bustling cafeteria of jujutsu high. Yuji was animatedly describing some absurd encounter he had earlier, flapping his arms for emphasis.

"And then," Yuji said, "the cat just—"

"Hi," a familiar voice from behind cut him off mid-sentence.

An immediate hush fell over the cafeteria. Every head turned in your direction. Satoru stood one step behind you.

Your friends were momentarily stunned, their conversation forgotten. Nobara's eyes widened as she leaped up from her seat, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug. "You're back!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the suddenly quiet room.

Yuji's face broke into a wide smile. "No way! How long has it been?"

"I can't believe it, you're really back," Nobara stepped back, her eyes scanning you up and down. "But seriously, what are you wearing?"

"Satoru had it custom-made for me," you said, giving a slight twirl to showcase the sleek, black uniform that clung neatly to your form. The material, lightweight yet impressively durable, shimmered subtly under the cafeteria lights.

Nobara's eyes suddenly darted to your hand. "No way!" she shrieked, her voice climbing octaves in sheer thrill. "No way!"

She seized your hand, her eyes fixed on the gleaming ring on your finger. The sunlight caught the jewel, making it dance with a spectrum of colors.

You leaned back into Satoru's presence, your smile widening. "You can call me Mrs. Gojo now."

Nobara's face lit up. Her eyes reflected the delicate sparkle of your ring.

"Seriously? This is huge!" Yuji joined in as he wrapped you both in a tight hug.

"Congratulations," Megumi said as you locked eyes with him over Nobara's shoulders. He smiled. Weakly, but he smiled. And you had never been so happy to see his smile.

Nobara, still holding your hand in hers, lifted her eyes to Satoru. "You better take good care of her, Gojo, or you'll have to deal with all of us."

Satoru smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Tell us everything," Nobara urged, dragging you back to the table.

Satoru pulled Megumi aside, his grip on his arm tight. "Megumi, I need a word with you."

Megumi's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"I need you to keep an eye on her." Satoru glanced at you, observing your chatter with Nobara and Yuji. "Something's off. She's hiding something from me."

Megumi followed Satoru's gaze. "You think she's in danger?"

"She's planning something stupid, I know it." Satoru's face hardened slightly. "I trust you, Megumi. Please, just watch out for her for me."

Megumi nodded. "You have my word."

With a nod, Satoru returned to the table, masking his worries with a practiced smile. As he approached, he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your cheek. You responded instinctively, your hand finding his cheek in a gentle caress. Then Satoru took a seat beside you.

"So, how long are you staying?" Nobara asked.

Your smile waned. "Not long. I came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Nobara echoed, her brows knitting. "What do you mean?"

"I'm here to kill Mahito."

The table fell silent.

"Kill Mahito?" Yuji repeated. His eyes flicked back and forth between you and Satoru, seeking some kind of explanation.

Satoru leaned back in his chair. "That has always been the plan."

"Then we're with you. You're not doing this alone," Nobara said.

You shook your head. "No, Nobara. This is something I must do on my own. Mahito is my responsibility."

"But—" Megumi interjected.

"I'm not weak anymore," you stated firmly, locking eyes with Megumi.

Yuji leaned in, his hands clenched tightly on the table's edge. "You can't expect us to sit back and do nothing."

"I need you to trust me," you insisted. "It's all settled anyway."

Megumi and Yuji exchanged uneasy glances. "What do you mean by that?"

"We left Mahito a message. He knows when and where to find me."

"Are you insane?" Megumi couldn't hide his alarm.

You shrugged. "No more than usual."

"I'm kinda getting scared. You sure this will work?" Yuji asked.

Satoru leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. His gaze fixed on you.

"I'm sure," your lips curved into a cruel smile. "Besides, I'm not the hunted anymore."

"It's them."

****

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐠𝐨.

"You and I."

"You and I," he repeated. "—against the world."

Satoru's blue eyes held yours in a gaze so intense it felt like falling into an ocean. His hand rose to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin in a tender touch. He looked at you, as if seeing you, truly seeing you, for the first time. As if he had just realized what love truly is.

Yuta's voice broke the silence. "Now, by the power vested in me by... well, let's say by the spirit of this unique moment, I pronounce you married. You may kiss now."

Then, as if drawn together by a force greater than yourselves, you and Satoru leaned in for a kiss. His lips met yours in a tender and gentle kiss. Yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that sealed your vows.

A promise of forever.

The world seemed to stand still as you kissed. The only reality that mattered in that moment was the feeling of Satoru's lips on yours, the warmth of his embrace and the unspoken promise of a lifetime together.

"I love you," he breathed against your lips.

"I love you too," you said.

Satoru's hand found its place on your back. Holding you in his embrace, he tilted you back. His lips found yours again in a deeper, more passionate kiss. His tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entry, and you eagerly granted it. You felt him smile against your lips.

Then Satoru gently lifted you back upright without breaking the kiss. He held you close to his chest, his heartbeat echoing the rhythm of your own. As your lips finally parted, you were left breathless.

You didn't have to turn your head to see that Yuta's face was red all over.

****

"I love you."

Satoru pushed you back through the door of the house. He began to hastily shrug his suit jacket off his shoulders as his tongue explored your mouth. Satoru's kiss was maddening, a clash of lips and tongues that spoke of a longing he had only for you.

You struggled to catch your breath between kisses. Still, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, letting him steal your every breath.

"I love you too," you said breathlessly. "But wasn't it a bit rude to kick Yuta out so quickly?"

"Yeah, we owe him an apology," his grin widened. "But that can wait for now."

Your pulse quickened. Satoru's hands moved under the fabric of your dress, running his fingers up over your hips, touching your bare skin, pressing you close against him. You hastily loosened his black tie and started to unbutton his shirt.

You bit your bottom lip as he skillfully found that most sensitive spot between your legs, sending a thrill through you. Your breath hitched. You grasped his hair, pulling so hard it must've hurt.

Satoru's strong arms enveloped you, lifting you with ease as he carried you into the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and hovered over you. He paused for a second, taking his time to look at you, intense yet caring, as he brushed a loose hair from your face. You reached out, your hand gently cupping his cheek as you held his gaze.

"I'm all yours," you whispered.

"And I'm all yours," he repeated.

Then he kissed you again, hard and demanding. His lips left yours, tracing a path down your jawline, leaving a trail of searing kisses in their wake. He nibbled at your skin, his teeth grazing your neck. Every inch of you marked by him as his.

Because you were his.

Forever.

****

"What's on your mind, love?"

You tore your gaze away from the window and met his eyes. "Nothing."

His fingers traced lazy circles over the exposed skin of your back as you lay side by side on the bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the open window, and a gentle early summer breeze from the ocean rustled the curtains.

Satoru propped himself up on his elbow. "Don't lie to me."

You hesitated for a moment. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"That you'll stop loving me."

"What do you mean?"

"What if I do something that makes you hate me?"

Satoru hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "You could never do anything to make me hate you."

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

Satoru gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gaze unwavering. "You can't choose which parts to love and which to leave out," he began, his voice a soothing murmur, "—even in all the dark moments. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. You are not perfect, but neither am I. Still, I choose you."

You bit your lip. It started to bleed.

"Hey, look at me," he urged gently, cradling your face between his hands. His eyes glistened in the moonlight. "We're in this together."

You wished you could believe it with all your heart.

He leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath caressing your skin. "My life is all yours. It was always yours to begin with," he whispered.

"And my life will always be yours," you repeated.

But the fear still whispered in the recesses of your mind. In that fragile moment, all you could do was cling to him, savoring the precious time you shared, clinging to the hope that love against all odds would be enough.

****

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭.

Somehow I believe that the greatest pain one will ever know is to wake up one day and realize that time has run out.

"You nervous?"

Satoru's gaze met yours. He had barely slept the night before, his weary eyes accentuated by dark circles. His cursed energy seemed to charge the very air with tension. Uncontrolled. Still, his senses were on high alert.

You didn't sleep either. Your mind raced. But it didn't matter anyway. It would either work or you'd be dead. So you remained outwardly calm, perhaps too calm for what was to come.

"No," you replied after a moment's pause. "Are you?"

Satoru smiled. "Nah, I trust you."

Silence fell again as you both waited—waited for the inevitable confrontation.

Ruins surrounded you. Remnants of the Christmas Eve battle. The city was so destroyed that the government had not even bothered to rebuild it. Buildings stood like skeletons. The streets were eerily deserted, their emptiness broken only by the whisper of wind stirring the debris.

It looked like a graveyard.

"They'll be here soon," Satoru said.

Your fingers instinctively curled around the hilt of your katana, reassuring yourself that it was still securely at your side. "Yeah, I can feel it."

He turned toward you, closing the distance between you. His hands gently cradled your face, lifting your eyes to meet his. "Don't do anything stupid," he implored, his concern etched in his gaze.

Your stomach tightened. "I won't."

Satoru's gaze lingered on your face for a moment longer, as if he wanted to remember every detail, as if this moment could be the last.

"What is it?" you asked, searching his eyes for any hint of what he might be thinking.

"You're so beautiful," he said softly, "—even when you lie to me."

The air suddenly grew colder.

"They're here," he finally whispered, his hands still gently holding your face.

"They are," you affirmed.

You didn't need to look to know. Their cursed energy was impossible to miss. You could almost sense the malice in their grins. And there he was, among them, just as you had expected.

"He's mine," Satoru declared.

"Mahito's mine," you countered.

A smile flickered across his lips.

"Kiss me, Satoru."

He obliged without hesitation. His lips met yours with a tenderness that betrayed the dire situation you were about to face. The kiss was soft, almost chaste, yet it carried the familiar fever you always felt with him.

Heat spread over your skin as his kiss deepened, and the world around you momentarily faded into a blur. Then, with a final, lingering kiss, he pulled away and placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

"I love you. Stay safe," he whispered, his breath warm against your hair. His eyes locked onto yours one last time before you both turned to face them.

Mahito stood in the center. His cruel smile seemed to burn itself into your memory. He looked at you like a predator eyeing his next meal. How foolish.

"Go," you said.

Without wasting a moment, Satoru burst into action. With lightning-fast speed, he charged towards them. His eyes locked on Kenjaku.

Satoru's attack sent Kenjaku spiraling backwards with a force that smashed him into one building and then another, causing the structures to collapse under the sheer impact.

This left Mahito alone in the midst of the battlefield.

"Finally, we meet! I've been so excited about this," Mahito taunted, his hand clawing at his face. His expression twisted into a grimace that seemed barely human. "You done hiding?"

"You're the one who should hide."

His response was a derisive laugh. Then, he advanced.

You didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, you surged forward, katana in hand. Mahito twisted grotesquely to dodge. But you were already pivoting, blade slicing through the air. With a surge of cursed energy, you unleashed a strike that sliced through everything in its path towards Mahito.

The ground shattered beneath you, a violent crack opening a gaping chasm. Mahito narrowly avoided it, losing his arm in the process. He tilted his head back. His manic laughter filled the air. "You've really gotten strong!"

"Nah, you're just weak," you wiped his blood off your katana onto your sleeve.

Mahito's laughter died in his throat. His face twisting into a mask of fury.

Your gaze locked onto his shifting form. He was a blur, constantly moving. He was everywhere, nowhere. He lunged, morphing into a grotesque, colossal figure. His massive punch came hurtling down from above.

You raised your katana just in time, blocking the blow. He shifted again, his arms morphing into bladed weapons. He slashed at you from both sides. You leapt, dodging the first attack, but he followed swiftly.

A second strike sent you flying backwards into the remains of a building.

Dust and debris swirled around you. You rose from the rubble despite the pain coursing through your body. You narrowed your eyes, focusing on Mahito's every move. You raised your blade when Mahito came at you again.

You parried his relentless attacks, each strike faster and fiercer. Suddenly, he morphed his arm into a massive, hurtling mass.

The blow connected, pushing you back and skimming the edge of the building. In the last seconds, you slammed your katana into the brick wall. You halted your fall.

Climbing up, you were met with Mahito's grotesque visage. He hovered above you. His foul breath was overwhelming. You had no time to react.

His next blow struck hard, sending you crashing to the unforgiving ground below. Pain seared through your body, leaving you gasping for breath. Your eyes darted around, searching for any sign of Mahito's presence.

Then, rising from the ashes like a devil, Mahito lunged at you once more. With a swift motion, you slashed your katana through the air, intercepting his attack before it could land. Mahito was hurled backwards and crashed into the ground.

Seizing the moment, you leapt into action. You swept your leg up, sending him reeling and slamming into a nearby wall. He crumpled to the ground, his grotesque form momentarily subdued.

In the blink of an eye, you were upon him. Your foot pinned him down, your katana poised, gleaming like a deadly arc of silver. With a swift stroke, you severed his arms, ensuring that he couldn't touch you. He gasped, his breath wheezing from his lungs.

"Where are the fingers?" you pressed, your voice cold.

Mahito's eyes widened. "Ha?"

"Where. Are. Sukuna's. Fingers."

Mahito seemed to consider your question for a moment, then he erupted into a shrill, mocking laugh. "Are you insane?"

You pressed your foot down harder. "You have them with you, don't you?"

His expression twisted into a sneer. "You talk like you want to use them, bitch."

"Save your breath," you snapped. "Just tell me where they are."

"You'd have to kill me first," he cackled, as if the idea amused him.

"You say that as if it's a hard thing to do."

Mahito's eyes turned pitch black. In an instant, his body began to transform, swelling grotesquely in size. Before you could react, you found yourself engulfed by his monstrous form, trapped within his flesh.

Darkness closed in around you, a suffocating void where you could no longer sense any cursed energy. Not even Satoru's.

Panic surged as you scanned the oppressive darkness that surrounded you.

You were trapped. The air grew thin.

You struck out with your katana, slicing through Mahito's flesh. But it held firm.

Shit.

Suddenly, a surge of energy rippled through the darkness. Light flashed. A face appeared, one you knew all too well.

"Yuji!" you exclaimed as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you free from Mahito's grotesque form. Together you tumbled to the ground, rolling through the dust until you crashed into a wall.

You coughed, dust filling your lungs. "What are you doing here?"

Yuji, pushing himself to his knees, looked up at you. "Mahito's here. I had to come."

You smiled. "Should have expected that from you."

He chuckled.

"Watch out!" another familiar voice shouted. You looked up just in time to see Mahito lunging towards you. Suddenly, you were being yanked backwards, barely avoiding where Mahito's fist slammed into the ground.

"Megumi??" you gasped.

"Long time no see," he replied, a wry smile on his lips.

Your hands hastily found Megumi's shoulders. "You shouldn't be here—not you. You have to leave," you urged.

Megumi's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

"Bad time for a reunion," Mahito sneered, his grotesque form lunging at you. But Yuji was faster. His kick sent Mahito spiraling sideways.

"Don't lose focus, guys!" Yuji shouted. You quickly turned to see Mahito rising from the dust. His shrill laughter reverberating through the desolate space. At the same time, your gaze shifted to a bright blue light in the sky—it was Satoru.

"Kenjaku's here too," you informed them.

"Kenjaku? Really?" Megumi exclaimed.

"Yeah, Satoru's handling him," you said. You turned back to face Mahito as he closed the distance with large, menacing strides.

Yuji and Megumi positioned themselves beside you, fists raised.

Shit.

Time for a change of plans.

Mahito split into three separate entities, each advancing towards you with frightening speed. You drew your katana, meeting Mahito's initial strike head-on.

The battle had escalated into a chaotic melee, with Yuji and Megumi grappling with their own versions of Mahito.

Mahito's relentless attack pushed you back, or perhaps you let yourself be pushed back. Who really knows.

"You're the original, right?" you asked, a sly grin on your face.

He sneered. "Eager for Sukuna's fingers, aren't you?"

"Just very interested."

You shoved him away with your blade. Mahito transformed again, his body becoming an arsenal of blades. He slashed through the air, each miss sending shockwaves that shattered the remains of nearby windows.

The shards flew like a deadly rain, cutting through air and skin.

You clenched your teeth against the pain. You moved through the storm of glass and steel towards him. Then, you saw your chance.

You made your move. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching out as you calculated your attack. Mahito's eyes widened in shock, realization dawning upon him too late.

His vulnerability exposed.

Your katana sliced through the air, aiming at his exposed flank. The blade struck with deadly accuracy, cutting through his flesh. Cursed energy collided with cursed energy. In that fleeting instant, time seemed to freeze. Mahito was immobilized.

"Ahh, there they are." You could feel the distinct cursed energy of Sukuna's fingers within Mahito's flesh. He must have hidden them in his stomach.

"You're insane," Mahito yelled.

He struggled against your attack, trying to morph and escape your grasp. But he couldn't.

You used your cursed technique to pin him down, preventing him from transforming. Why did you never understand this before—if you could manipulate cursed energy, you could also suppress it. So simple.

"Heard that a few times today."

You sliced open his stomach while he was powerless. Inside, wrapped in cloth, were the fingers. You pulled them out and stepped back. You watched as Mahito's form collapsed into a grotesque mess.

Black liquid oozed from his wounds. He stumbled, clutching at the gaping wound in his stomach, trying in vain to reform.

"Yeah, that's going to take a while. My cursed technique stops the flow of your cursed energy," you explained nonchalantly, examining the fingers in your hand.

Mahito was left writhing and powerless. His usual ability to regenerate and morph was crippled by your technique.

"What are you?" Mahito gasped, collapsing back onto the ground.

You turned towards him, taking deliberate, slow steps. You towered over him. "The wife of Satoru Gojo. What did you expect?"

Shock etched Mahito's face. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Yeah, whatever."

Without a moment's hesitation, you ended him. Your blade sliced through his flesh effortlessly. Maybe you should feel something. Relief. Shook. Anything. But you felt nothing as the light in his eyes faded.

Perhaps it was the influence of all the malevolent cursed energy you had been manipulating in training for the past few moths. You were so used to it that you believed it had already become a part of you.

The remaining Mahito duplicates, linked to the original, crumbled as well.

You secured the fingers in a side pocket on your belt.

Focus.

No room for mistakes now.

Satoru would soon notice what had happened.

Scanning the area, Yuji and Megumi weren't immediately visible. You moved toward the last spot you had seen Yuji.

"You did it!" Yuji exclaimed as he spotted you. His appearance was battered, but nothing seemed critical. Megumi, seen from the corner of your eye, looked similarly worn.

Yuji's eyes sparkled. You hated what you had to do.

"I'm sorry, Yuji," you whispered as you lifted your katana.

Megumi's voice attempted to reach you. But it was lost. It was drowned out by a high-pitched ringing in your ears. Your vision tunneled, focusing solely on Yuji's frightened face in front of you.

You hated yourself so much in this moment.

Then, out of nowhere, a sudden, brutal impact from your left.

A car, hurled as if from the hands of a giant, slammed into you, sending you careening to the side. For a disorienting moment, you were airborne, uncertain if you were still flying or had met your end.

You hit the ground hard. You reeled over and over until your body crashed violently into a building. Your head struck the cold stone. A sharp pain shot through your skull. You were momentarily disoriented. Lost.

With a groan, you pushed the car off you, your legs straining against its weight.

You struggled to stand. Your fingers slipped against the blood-stained wall, unable to find a grip. Your skull throbbed merciless. Your vision blurred. You couldn't see properly, couldn't make out where you were.

You coughed, a spatter of blood staining the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?" Satoru's voice cut through the chaos. You lifted your head, fighting to focus as you met his gaze.

"Did you just throw a fucking car at me?"

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Satoru hissed.

"You don't understand," you struggled to your feet, meeting his gaze. He looked so sad under all that fury. "I'm here to end this once and for all."

"It's over!" Satoru shouted. "Mahito's dead. Kenjaku's dead. It's done! Can't you see that?"

"It'll never be over as long as he's alive!" Blood spilled from your mouth as you screamed.

Silence.

"Don't make me hurt you," Satoru warned.

"Try it."

In a blink, Satoru was upon you. His leg swept towards your face. Your eyes widened, time seemed to crawl. You twisted your arm, drawing the katana to block. Flesh met steel. Pain shot through your arms. You gasped, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth.

Cursed energy crackled along your blade as you pushed Satoru back. He staggered but quickly regained his footing. He launched another attack. You managed to block it, then countered.

Satoru's leg came up in a swift kick to your ribs, hitting a recently healed, now likely re-broken, spot. He knew your weakness all too well. You stumbled back, pain flaring in your side.

That bastard.

"Why not use your cursed energy, Satoru?" you taunted, clutching at your side. Blood seeped through your fingers.

"I would be stupid to do so," Satoru replied with a wry smile.

He was on you again in an instant. A sharp blow grazed your cheek, sending a jolt of pain through your face. The taste of blood filled your mouth. You recoiled, slashing your katana through the air and striking the ground.

The impact created a chasm, splitting the earth so wide that Satoru was caught off-guard and fell into the void. You leapt back just in time to avoid the same fate.

Scanning the area for Yuji, you began to move towards him. You bit down on the pain that tore through your body.

But suddenly something grasped your ankle, yanking you back and sending you hurtling towards a building. At the last moment, you twisted and absorbed the impact with your feet. You heard the audible crack of a bone breaking.

Satoru quickly caught up. He lunged at you, a flurry of blows and counters followed. Sparks flew as steel met flesh. With a precise blow, you pushed him back.

He crashed into the ruins, a cloud of dust and debris momentarily hiding him from sight.

Your legs barely held you up. Pain shot through them with every movement.

Suddenly, you felt the wind caress your face and whip your hair behind you. Then, a bright red light erupted from the clouds of dust, hurtling straight towards you. The heat of Satoru's cursed energy burned your cheeks.

In the last moment before impact, you raised your katana, intercepting Satoru's attack. You struggled against it. The sheer power nearly escaped your control, but then you deflected it. The force annihilated everything to your side.

You collapsed, the world spinning as you lay there. You coughed. Blackness was everywhere. You moved your hand beneath your chest, biting down on the scream of pain as you pushed upward.

You felt the thud of Satoru's steps approaching.

Get yourself together. You're so close.

Then, Satoru stood before you.

"I didn't expect our marriage to be like this."

"As if we could ever have a normal married life," you replied, looking up at him. The words felt sharp in your throat, like knives cutting through your heart.

Satoru kneeled down in front of you, his hand gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. You forgot how to breathe as his intense blue eyes bore into yours. He looked at you as if there was still something in you worth seeing, worth loving, despite everything you had done.

"We could have that, if you would just let it happen. But you think you deserve nothing, so you ruin it. But listen to me, love. I want you, all of you-your flaws, your mistakes, your imperfections. I want you and only you. Despite everything you've done, I still love you with all that I am." His voice nearly broke. "It's not too late."

"This is greater than us, Satoru. Someone has to do it," you said, the words coming out choked and pained.

"You think I care about anything but you?" he countered firmly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your eye. "I could happily watch the world crumble to ashes, as long as you were there, standing beside me."

"You should hate me, it would be easier if you just—" you started, but he cut you off.

He silenced you with a kiss—a kiss so deep and consuming that it blurred the lines between where you ended and he began.

"I'm all yours," he whispered against your lips.

"And I'm all yours," you breathed back.

Pain.

Satoru's eyes widened in shock as he felt the pain.

He gasped, his body trembling, but he didn't fight it. His eyes remained fixed on yours. Tears streamed down your face as you held his gaze, your hand still clutching the dagger buried in his side, effectively stopping all cursed energy within him.

You stabbed him deep enough to make him unable to fight for a few seconds, but not deep enough to kill him.

That was it.

The End.

You had done what you believed needed to be done, even if it meant hurting the person you loved most.

You wished you had no heart.

➸ continue reading chapter nine (last one)

a/n: thanks you so much for reading and have a lovely day or night! ♡

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro #satoru gojo angst

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mixelation · 22 days

Text

(a)synchronicity - probably the very beginning

Tori was currently tied by the wrist to two other people, part of a chain of five civilians and one shinobi. They stood out in the rain, in a muddy field outside of Ame. Hanzo stalked back and forth in front of them.

Needless to say, Tori’s day wasn’t going the way she had planned.

“You are the absolute scum of the earth,” Hanzo wheezed out through the filter over his mouth. “You are traitors and usurpers. Did you really think we would let you get away?”

The Ame Tori knew– the one twenty or so years in the future– would have let civilians move out, if they could prove they needed to. She could have written herself a very compelling letter about having no familial or professional ties and no job prospects, laid out a plan for how she'd be so good at a job somewhere else in the country, and she would have gotten exit papers.

Apparently in mid-Civil War Ame, even civilians were under suspicion of joining the rebels. Despite being homeless for the last month, despite not having a single thing to her name because she was not even from this time, despite not doing a single thing for Ame or its wars, Tori was meant to stay in Ame even if she starved. That was giving your life to a village, according to Hanzo’s ongoing mental breakdown.

“I’d rather die here than live another day serving you,” the shinobi that was supposed to be guiding them out snarled. Then she spat into the mud.

Why, Tori thought. There was no talking her way out of this, not with that attitude.

“As you wish,” Hanzo answered. His hands rose towards his face. There was a shuffling around them as the Ame-nin holding their sad little group at sword-point pulled gas masks over their mouths and noses.

Why would sewing a piece of salamander into yourself do that? Tori wondered as she watched purple fumes pour from Hanzo’s mouth.

She didn’t have it in her to feel fear. She’d done nothing but squat in abandoned, cold buildings and beg for food for the past month. She probably hadn’t gotten properly dry the entire time. She didn’t even have the energy to feel angry. She was just annoyed and tired.

The poison made all her neurons misfire. Pain shot through random parts of her body, and her legs convulsed and knocked her over. She dragged down both the people she was tied to– or maybe they dragged her down? It was hard to tell. They were one twitching mass of limbs and shrieks of pain at Hanzo’s feet.

“Tell your filth friends when you see them,” Hanzo said, voice no longer distorted by the mask, “that I will not stop even when Hell is full.”

Tori knew she was properly dead by then, because the gnawing hunger of the Shinigami spread inside her, becoming a part of her, driving out her own feelings. If Hanzo was going to fill her stomach, why wasn’t he? Why was he wasting her time with this measly meal?

It almost felt good to be one with the Shinigami, who did not feel cold or tired, just hungry, always hungry. Except, today she also felt…

What are you? The Shinigami wondered. But gods did not have to experience time strictly linearly like humans, and it puzzled it together quickly. Disgusting, Tori thought of her own soul, and then suddenly had the very human instinct to vomit.

She could feel the souls of the five other people in her stomach. She could also feel arms cutting her hands free and then dragging her through the thick mud of the field. Her nerves twitched. This was probably just what corpses killed by Hanzo did, because the person dragging her didn’t react.

This is a vile feeling, the Shinigami thought. Or perhaps it was what Tori thought. How dare a human touch me?

Tori had to fight to stay limp as repulsion filled her. Then she was being dumped down a hill along with the other bodies.

Ah, the Shinigami-in-her-head thought. The carcasses after a meal. And yet I’m still hungry…

Tori had been dumped into a mass grave, on top of a pit of rotting human bodies half-submerged in mud. Bile rose in her mouth, but she fought it back down, flailing for the edge of the pit. She refused to look down or think too hard as the Shinigami faded from her brain.

It took a long time and many failed attempts to crawl her way up the muddy slope.

Tori allowed herself to splay out in the mud for a few minutes. The Ame-nin were long gone. She hated dying, but it was a convenient little trick.

The poison still had lingering effects, and she stumbled over her own feet several times as she headed to the forest at the edge of the field. Her vision was spotted. But she was alive, and she was getting the hell out of Rain Country.

xXx

Tori was still in Rain Country. Travel was… challenging. Rain Country was at war with itself and its neighboring countries. Ninja occupied towns and roads and would randomly show up and kill you for no reason, or perhaps confiscate your supplies if you were lucky. The ninja came from every country, having made Ame the stage for their stupid Third War.

She had money now, though, at least. Ninja here weren’t any better at not getting tricked than they were in her timeline.

“What do you mean, kill them?” the farmer’s wife said. “They’re ninja!”

“They’re not even conscious,” Tori countered. She pressed the knife at the woman again. “They’ll die like anyone.”

The farmer’s wife seemed doubtful, her eyes nervously flickering over to her dining room where three young men sat slumped over their seats.

“Fine, I’ll show you,” Tori said, turning on her heel and marching back into the room.

It was nice of the farmer’s wife to let her stay with them, curled up in the dry hay of her barn. The ninja had been here since Tori had, because she’d stalked them here.

The farmer’s wife had old medications prescribed to her husband, from before the supply shortages and before her husband had died resisting a ninja raid. It had taken very little convincing from Tori to get the woman to crush up pills into the food she served the ninja. And then it had worked, because ninja had a hard time believing non-ninja weren’t idiots. They hadn’t expected a young civilian like Tori asking a bunch of stupid questions to be a distraction for another civilian doing something dangerous.

Of course, there was a period between being drugged and passing out where the ninja had realized something was wrong. There were several kunai in the walls and a huge scorch across the wooden dining table from them freaking out. This was probably why the farmer’s wife had refused to enter the room, despite being gungho about the plan just an hour ago.

The drugs worked just as well as the warning label had promised, though. There were all out like alight, breath and limbs heavy

Tori hovered over the biggest of the three ninja with the knife. A Konoha headband glinted back up at her. It was funny. She’d always just assumed Konoha-nin would be kinder than everyone else, but they weren’t. They would barge into some lady’s house, scare the shit out of her kids, and demand free room and board, just like any other ninja. The farmer’s wife had no idea what village had killed her husband, and it didn’t matter. All ninja were ninja to someone like her.

Tori fiddled with the knife. She wasn’t… she didn’t… well. She didn’t mind the idea of killing someone with a knife, but she had no idea how to do it cleanly.

She ended up turning the knife on herself and making a little incision into the fatty part of her forearm for blood. It would take some extra time and finagling, but fuuinjutsu was almost always what she was most comfortable with. She patted the ninja down for a spare fuuinjutsu brush– a lot of them had them, even if all they knew how to do was re-ink storage scrolls– and set about making a seal that would disrupt the ninja’s chakra just long enough to kill them.

It took long enough that the farmer’s wife regained the courage to creep into the kitchen.

“You’re one of them,” she gasped at the seal Tori had drawn in blood across the table.

“Um,” Tori said, settling the third ninja’s hand into place on the seal. “No I’m not?”

She smeared the last character into place with her finger, to activate the seal. She’d drawn the seal imperfectly, as it was on a random table in blood rather than traditional methods, and a lot of very dramatic smoke escaped.

The farmer’s wife made a lot of dramatic, outraged spitting noises. She didn’t even seem relieved when Tori confirmed all three men were dead now.

She kicked Tori out, although she did nothing but stand around and accuse Tori of being a lying bitch while Tori patted down the corpses for useful things. Like more pocket change. Or travel supplies. Or– gasp!– sealing ink and a bunch of blank tags!

“Which village sent you?” the farmer’s wife demanded, waving around another knife she’d picked up at some point. “Don’t you dare send any more of your freak friends out here!”

“I suggest burning the bodies,” Tori told her and she packed up her new goodies to leave and wiped the table clean of evidence. She didn’t need any shinobi getting wind of her fuuinjutsu. “Or anything else to hide their identities.”

Of all the villages, Konoha was most likely to send people to investigate random disappearances. They liked tracking where their bloodline limits ended up. Or, at least, that’s what the Iwa-nin that Tori had failed to convince to go engage a Konoha team had said as his excuse.

The temperature was dropping as she hiked away from the farm. Maybe there was a way to use fuuinjutsu to temperature-regulate her tent… no, that seemed like it needed a lot of testing to make sure she didn’t set it on fire in the night…

Tori’s hands balled into fists as she walked. Why was even finding a warm bed impossible? Or someone to just be nice to her, without suspicion and threats?

****

TORI KILL COUNT: 3

#asynchronicity #my writing

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laguezze · 11 months

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PAC: Summer Predictions

it's almost June and I feel like summer tends to be an exciting time for a lot of people! In case you are wondering what are some things summer will bring to you here's a Mamma Mia! Themed PAC for ya.

Minors DNI as one of the piles is a little PG. Please don't. Listen to me. Don't interact!

Here are the piles!

Pile I

Pile II

Pile III

Pile IV

Ready? Let's go!

Pile I

Song channeled: Waterloo

"I was defeated you won the war." "Finally facing my Waterloo."

There's an energy of waiting and release. I'll explain. You've been waiting for something to happen, you've been making moves in the past and nothing came out of it. So now I'm sensing you're just defeated and decided to let go of it. You have learned you can live without this thing happening. And it's when you let go that it happens. Or for some of you, something better comes out of it.

Letting go is a powerful thing, it can bring new things, it gives you peace of mind. And although it's painful sometimes, the sense of release is better than anything else.

So basically, this summer I see you becoming more chill with others and with yourself. You're done waiting and expecting things from people and opportunities, you're done. So you're letting go, learning how to breathe and that will be rewarded.

Things I'm seeing could happen: meeting a promising connection, learning a new skill, getting a job offer, learning how to love yourself.

Hope it resonates! 💕

Pile II

Song channeled: Dancing Queen

"you are the dancing queen, young and sweet"

"you're a teaser you turn em on"

I'm seeing you wanna have fun this summer. I mean, you chose this dancing pile, so it makes sense.

And I'm not here to blow your fun away. But i am.

So you want to go out and meet new people, get into that hot girl summer mindset. Maybe you've had a boring year or your experiences with summer have always been dull and not special.

I'm seeing someone scrolling on social media, looking at all the fun things people are doing on vacation, wishing that was them.

Well, I'm here to tell you that may not be you. And that's ok.

You're not at that point yet and that's fine. You can't expect to go out and meet people in a place where you know everyone. And if you can't afford to leave that place then it's going to be very difficult doing that.

It's alright to have a chill moment at home, you don't need to be out and about everyday in order for your summer to be exciting. You can meet people other ways, and you can get to know the people you already know better. Deepen some existing connections. Your deep desire of getting everything new is putting you back. You need to appreciate the things in your life before you get new ones. Including people.

Things I'm seeing could happen: finding a good friend, shadow work, journaling, exploring and finding new places in your city, picnic dates, taking care of animals.

Hope it resonates! 💕

Pile III

Song I channeled: I've been waiting for you.

"You're something I'd been pleading for"

"And finally it seems to me, my lonely days are through"

Great energy here, pile 3. A lot of you have done the work and been introspective and learned how to love yourselves. I'm so proud of that. Some of you spent hours wondering why your FS wasn't here yet and used that to solve some issues within you. Some of you wondered why you didn't seem good enough for this new position, and you did the work and got where you needed to be.

Whatever this thing you wanted was, you've done the work in order to get it. So you will get it. This summer it seems like the universe is giving you a break and granting you a wish. I'm so happy for you guys!

Things I see could happen: meeting a soulmate, getting a new job, getting a pet, buying a new house, leaving home, traveling somewhere you were dreaming of.

Hope it resonates! 💕

Pile IV

Song I channeled: Our last summer

"Walk around the Seine, laughing in the rain"

"Memories that remain"

You guys will probably travel somewhere small, like a town no one has ever heard of. This might be home for some of you and you'll be going back after a while. I'm seeing this summer will be quite transformative. I'm seeing it will be peaceful and quiet, but that's exactly what you need. Although not uneventful. I'm seeing some drama might happen with old friends. But nothing major. Maybe you'll get a crush on someone or see your old crush again and remember.

This summer is full of nostalgia and old memories. You'll rethink a lot of your goals and values and discover yourself a little more.

Things I'm seeing could happen: meeting a new crush, making a song, fighting with friends, rekindling a romance, losing the v (iykyk), lots of firsts... (Iykyk), flower picking, reading, writing a novel.

If you're a minor reading this why would you do this to me, i told you to leave at the beginning like get off the internet and live your life.

Hope it resonates! 💕

The End

#tarot readings #free readings #tarot #tarot blog #free tarot reading #pick a card #tarot pick a card #tarot pick a pile #pick a pile #pick a gif #pick an image #pick a picture

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norris-lando · 8 months

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where did my baby go?

Charles Leclerc x reader

based on the song Coney Island by Taylor Swift

warnings: angst, breakup, fighting, character death author’s note: I’m actually really happy with how this turned out and I kinda love the twist at the end. So, I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this! word count: 4.1k

You and Charles had been together for four years. And sometimes you couldn't believe the half of it. The way you treated each other left people to wonder why on Earth you even stayed together when it seemed so painful for you. It was like you couldn't breathe. Like everything was always just the wrong shade of grey. Nothing ever working out the way you had expected it to. All the while you just couldn't stay away from each other. It was pathetic.

Break my soul in two looking for you

But you're right here

If I can't relate to you anymore

Then who am I related to?

A touch here, a sigh there, something always got on one of your nerves just enough to start a fight. It didn't matter where you were or who you were with, when the ball started to roll, there was no stopping it. Spiteful words were being exchanged, causing the poor people around you to be horrified when they heard the way you spoke to each other.

Nevertheless, you couldn't imagine your life without Charles. It didn't matter you couldn't understand anything about him anymore, like he had become a total stranger to you in a blink of an eye, in a matter of seconds. Still, it was always his eyes you searched for in a crowded a room. It was Charles who was your first thought each morning when you woke up and each night you let yourself be pulled to sleep. If you couldn't be with him, who would you even be? It was like you had lost your own identity and now you didn't exist without him.

When you first started dating in 2019, you were happy. You could picture your life with Charles from start to finish. You were in it for the long haul, you both were. Neither of you expected it to end any time soon, hell if ever. You found each other and simultaneously the two of you decided that, this was it. This is where the search ends. This is the end game. You were blissfully unaware of how far from the truth you really were.

And if this is the long haul

How'd we get here so soon?

Did I close my fist around something delicate?

Did I shatter you?

It didn't take long before you had your first fight. It was over something small, comical even. It was something you would laugh over later that same evening. Oh, how silly we were to be fighting about something like that, you would recall later as you thought it over. Maybe you should have seen the signs then? Or maybe they weren't there yet? Maybe it really was just something small. Something every couple would go through, only to grow stronger from it as a result. Maybe you were supposed to grow stronger from it, too, but just didn't know how to.

Later on in your relationship Charles would let his mind slip back to that fight again and again. Going it over in his head, wondering if there was anything he could have done or should have done differently. Would his actions had steered the ship in a different direction? Maybe avoiding a head on collision after all. Or maybe there was nothing to be done. He cursed under his breath each time he went over that first fight. He blamed himself for a lot of it. Honestly, he blamed himself for the most part. Maybe, he often wondered, you were just so delicate and he suffocated you. He would have to come to terms with the fact that he would most likely never find the answers to his burning questions. No matter how hard he searched.

You couldn't bring yourself to move from your seat. It was cold outside and you had far too few clothes on your back to stand the ruthless winds. Still, something forced you to stay. You looked around the park for nothing in particular. A part of you was hoping you'd see something that would jolt you awake from this dream-like state that had trapped you in. Mind spinning but still managing to focus on one thing and one thing only, you couldn't help but wonder what had happened to you and Charles. It was like a carousel in your mind that you were forced to stay on. Like a broken record, it never stopped spinning. Only playing the same painful memories from your past relationship over and over again.

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island

Wondering, "Where did my baby go?"

The fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go

Sorry for not making you my centerfold

Over and over

'I'm sorry,' you said to no one in particular as you stayed frozen in the same spot.

There was a sickness in your stomach and tears forced their way to the corner of your eyes. A child was running with a big smile plastered on his face right in front of you and you couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if you and Charles had worked out. If you would have been able to work through your differences and maybe start a family of your own. What your life would be like if it was your child sprinting in front of you.

But that wasn't in the cards for you. Not with Charles anyway. Maybe not with anyone ever.

Charles had dnf'd in the race and he was, rightfully so, angry. At himself, at the competition, at everything that stood in his way as he walked through the Ferrari motorhome, stomping his feet like a little child. You followed steadily, trying to keep up with him while trying to find words of encouragement. You knew there was nothing you could do or say to make him feel better but you had to try. It was a mistake but you came to learn that too late yet again.

Lost again with no surprises

Disappointments close your eyes

And it gets colder and colder

When the sun goes down

He slammed the door to his driver's room just before you could sneak in after him. The sound of the door hitting the frame at such a high speed made you jump. You knew what Charles was like when he was angry but it still always took you by surprise. A part of you had still not really gotten used to his behaviour when he was like this.

The anger felt always unnecessary to you. Like it was a little too much. It was like a cloud that swallowed him whole and held him tightly in place before it had had enough and it washed over him.

You tried to knock on the door, barely making a sound as your fist came in contact with the material. There was no answer. No ‘come in’, no ‘leave me alone’, nothing. Just silence as you were left to stand there as you mustered up the courage to walk in to the room. If someone had seen you, standing there alone, they probably would have found the sight sad.

The door opened with a creak and you peaked your head in. Charles was on the bed, sat down with his head in his hands. You couldn't see his face, leaving you unable to read his expression.

A sort of fear crept down your spine. You had been in a similar situation with Charles before so you knew full well how this could, would end. But you still held high hopes that you wouldn't go down that path again. You didn't want yet another weekend to end in shouting match between the two of you. For once, you wanted to end your weekend on a happy note. You wanted to be able to walk out of the paddock as a happy couple, your bodies intertwined together. Not so that one after the other, you held your heads down as you avoided the cameras, embarrassed that the situation had yet again turned to that.

But it was too much to ask. The sight of you in his driver’s room was enough for Charles to tip over the metaphorical cliff he was standing on. And as he fell, he took you down with him.

Sometimes Charles spent his nights going over everything that ever happened between the two of you. He went over the moments, step by step, reflecting where'd been at in his own life at the time. He'd reflect his own feelings now, when it was too late. When he could almost picture you so clearly as if you were right there in front of him, happy and moving on. Sometimes he thought it was all real and it was your way of getting revenge on him.

It was during those nights, when his memories were his worst nightmare, that he turned to his unhealthy habits. Maybe he would have one drink too much. Maybe he would speed just a little too fast on the empty highway. Whatever it was, it was his best attempt trying to stop the pounding in his head get louder and louder. Maybe, sometimes he thought, it was his way of trying to escape the empty void you had left behind when you walked out on him that night.

The question pounds my head

What's a lifetime of achievement

If I pushed you to the edge

But you were too polite to leave me?

During those nights he realised no matter what he achieved in life, it would all amount to nothing if it meant losing you. It just wouldn't be the same if he didn't have you by his side to celebrate. And it was during those nights when he first started to wonder, if he was just stupid. Maybe there had been warning signs. Maybe you had, in a way, tried to show him when enough was enough. Maybe you were too polite and couldn't dare to leave him in the hopes you could actually change him for the better.

But Charles also thought about how maybe it wasn't your job to save him. Maybe you shouldn't have tried to change him but instead, maybe you should have tried to accept him as who he was. Maybe. But he also knew you never meant to hurt him, not intentionally. So whatever it was that you did or tried to do, or said or tried to say, it was all to help Charles. To guide him, of sorts. If only he had realised it sooner.

You couldn't help but miss him after all. No matter how bad he made you feel half the time, no matter how toxic you two were to each other, you missed him. You missed him and his stupid laugh and his stupid smile and his stupid dimples and his stupid face. You missed the man he was when he was with you and you missed who you were when you were with him. Through the good and the bad.

Do you miss the rogue

Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

Will you forgive my soul

When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

When you broke up for the first time, you stayed away from his world. You left it all to him. Even though it meant you couldn't see your friends, the friends you had made through Charles. It broke you and you hated it but it felt like the only chance. If you wanted to get over him, you had to cut all ties to him and everything that reminded you of him. Because it was so easy for you to fall back into that toxic cycle of breaking up and getting back together. You had been there too many times already and the two of you grew tired of it. Each cycle lasting a shorter period than the last, even though each time you promised each other this time you would be better. This time you wouldn't hurt each other. But just like each year the first fall of snow comes around, the same way you and Charles fell back into your old habits, again and again.

And yet again, even though you had vowed to yourself that this time you were through, you somehow found yourself back together. Your breakup ending up to last only a few weeks. Long enough for the two of you two think you’d made it through the hardest part of moving on but not long enough for the two of you to not miss each other.

At some point after you had gotten back together it all just started to feel like the beginning of a bad joke. Bad habits, right, you'd chuckle to yourself when it happened, though you knew all too well it was a toxic cycle that didn’t do any good to either of you.

It wasn't hard for anyone to miss why you would always fall back into the same endless cycle. You and Charles together, had it worked out, were like one of those cheesy romance novels. Where no matter the hardship, the two main characters that were destined to be together, would find a way to work. Had your relationship worked out, you would have been the love story of your century.

'Cause we were like the mall before the internet

It was the one place to be

The mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams

Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring

Over and over

But life had other plans for you two as tragic as it was. And because of those plans, more often than not the two of you were somewhere around the globe far away from each other staring up at the sky in the hopes that answers would pour down.

Would it be better to just breakup? For good this time. Is it right to keep missing one another? Would it be for the better to just stay apart? No matter how hard it might feel.

Does he miss me like I miss him?

Does she still love me like I love her?

Lost again with no surprises

Disappointments close your eyes

And it gets colder and colder

When the sun goes down

Charles hated to admit it but he spent days upon days going over everything that happened during the years you were together. He thought about were it all went wrong. He tried to find the reasoning behind it, tried to justify his actions.

There were times when Charles felt completely and utterly lost without you. You had been there for him for so long and suddenly you were just gone. The world felt cold without you keeping him warm. Anger turned to fury, sadness to despair. Even happiness was filled with melancholy.

In those moments he was filled with the feeling of not being himself. Yet again he came to the realisation that his life was not complete without you. Just like so many times before.

You had those moments too. A painful sting in your chest as you cried yourself to sleep. Why would life be so cruel? Why would anyone ever have to go through something like this? Why couldn’t you have just stayed home that night? Would you have worked it out or was this something that would have been inevitable no matter what?

Were you waiting at our old spot

In the tree line, by the gold clock?

Did I leave you hanging every single day?

Charles’ mind always going back to the time when you two were supposed to go out for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The two of you had been busy with work and life and had somehow you just let each other just slip by. Always finding reasons why it was so hard to make time for each other, even for one night.

Not tonight, though.

You had planned the perfect evening at a restaurant near your home. The same restaurant you had gone to on your first date. Charles had made the reservations for the two of you and you both had cleared your calendars for the evening, promising each other that this time you’d finally make time.

But something had stopped Charles that night. Some invisible force had put a pin in his plans. And now, in his mind, Charles could see you standing there. He could picture you in a beautiful dress that complimented your skin color, giving you a sort of glow. He could see you lift your head up in even intervals to stare at the clock. He could imagine how you hoped each time as you saw the hands of time that it was wrong. That for some reason the time that was being displayed wouldn’t be correct. There was a twist in his chest when thought about you being disappointed by him yet again.

It brought him so much sorrow when he realised, years later, just how much disappointment he had put you through by not showing up. And for a moment he wished he could have gone back in time and change everything. If he could have, he would have treated you better through every step of the way.

Maybe it had been your way of getting petty revenge on Charles’ for all the times he had ditched you. But had it really been necessarily the best way to do it? The thought of you not going to his birthday party still haunted you as the conversation between you and Charles played in your head.

Were you standing in the hallway with a big cake?

Happy birthday

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?

A universe away

“You promised me you’d be there.” Charles tried his best to sound tough, not wanting to show you how he really felt. But no matter hard he tried, you could hear the disappointment in his voice. Like a little child had been betrayed by their mother. Not really being able to comprehend why or how someone could such a thing.

What could you have said in that moment? ‘I’m sorry?’ Maybe. But in that moment the last thing you wanted to do was apologize. So you did what you had learned from Charles. You steered the conversation in a direction that would make him at fault.

After that it didn’t take long for you two to be in a screaming match. Both of you saying words you would know you’d later regret but not caring in that moment. Your night ending the same way they ended usually. With slamming of doors, one of you sleeping on the couch after you swore to each other that this was the last time. That morning come, one of you would be out the door for good.

And when I got into the accident

The sight that flashed before me was your face

But when I walked up to the podium

I think that I forgot to say your name

Neither of you could pinpoint the exact moment when it all fell apart. Sometimes it felt like it was a number of things combined, other times it felt like it was one specific moment.

Maybe it was the time Charles had ditched you at one of the many parties you attended during your time together. Maybe it was when you chose to ignore him when he really needed you after a bad day, when the only thing that would cheered him up would have been a hug from you.

To you, however, it was most boiled down to the 'podium incident' as you had began to call it.

Charles had won his home race in Monaco. And as he was up there on the podium celebrating, you were stood among the sea of people. Your eyes were fixated on Charles the whole time while he barely glanced at you. In that moment you felt like a plague — something that had to be avoided at all cost in order not to be swallowed by it.

There were so many people around you and it felt hard to hold it all together. To not break down.

That night as you went back home with Charles you were filled with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. You looked around your shared apartment and felt as if you were just a guest there. Like nothing belonged to you. Like you weren't even supposed to be there.

So you took off. The Monaco night feeling chill on your skin.

You didn't know where you were going or what you were going to do or if you were going to go back. You just knew you had to get out.

You drove and drove and drove until your eyelids felt too heavy to keep open. You figured that you'd close them for just a second. Just a teeny tiny moment and then you'd continue and find a real place to sleep in.

But something jolted you awake. There was a smell of smoke and everything was spinning. Flashes of Charles went around your mind. Flashes of memories playing on repeat as you tried to make out which one was which, all of them just being slammed together, not making any sense. You were confused, not sure where you were or what had happened. It was getting cold. So cold you were shivering relentlessly. And then it hit you.

Charles held your hand tightly as he wiped his tears away with his free hand. He felt guilty. Torn. Like it was just a really bad dream. He was certain that soon he'd wake up in a pool of his own sweat next to you. He didn’t want to believe that what was in front of him was real. Your broken and bruised body lay still on the hospital bed. But he knew better and the truth was like a slap across his face when your friends rushed into the room.

“Charles,” Carlos called out and tried his best to keep his composure. He didn’t want to cry but the sight of your lifeless body was too much for him to bear.

Lando was the next one to peak his head through the door way. An audible gasp left his lips when see what had happened. He couldn’t come in, not yet. So he turned on his heels and stayed behind.

Carlos sobbed out apologies to Charles as if it would bring you back. Lando fell down on the floor outside the room. Pierre and Daniel were silent and frozen. No one knew what to say or do.

“This is my fault.” The room fell silent at Charles’ words. Carlos was looking at his friend, trying to decipher how this could be his fault. He couldn’t find a reason. He couldn’t find words to make Charles feel better. He knew you and Charles had had a lot of troubles during your relationship but he still couldn’t connect the dots. Not until Charles poured his heart out and told him how you had gotten into a fight, yet again. How you had left in the middle of the night, yet again. How you hadn’t returned home this time. How you would never return home this time around.

Carlos began to understand Charles in a way then. He understood why he felt like it was his fault but he knew it was just the shock and sadness talking. He tried his best to console Charles but found the task almost impossible. Carlos figured the best thing he could do right was just stay there with him for as long as he wanted. To be there for him in case Charles needed him. The room fell quiet as no one said a word. Only occasional sniffles echoing around. It was a sad day for everyone involved, one that would take them all months to process completely.

But for Charles it was different. It was more intense and way harder than to anyone else. Your death had a left hole in him and he was certain nothing would ever be able to fill it completely. In his mind, Charles was certain there would always a spot in his heart that would be tainted by the loss of you. Because after all the rough times you went through, the constant fighting and living on edge, fearing what could be said or done without causing a scene, Charles knew that the love you shared was always real. And there was nothing that could ever take it away from him.

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #writingcl16 #writing wheredidmybabygo

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justporo · 2 months

Text

Revelations

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Chapter 10

As the joy and their love still echo through each other, Astarion sweeps up Tav for another dance - that makes them reminisce about all the things that might have been and be thankful for all the things that are.

Author's Note: Three months... It took me three months to get back to this - I am deeply sorry but life - you know. I have however this and four more chapters already drafted ready for you - and there's still more to come so I hope you're ready to jump back into this adventurous night with Astarion and Tav, start the night anew or maybe get lost in it for the first time? Anyways, I hope really hope you enjoy a chapter of a lot of emotions and banter - there's quite some more stuff to come!

Songs: Serenade for Strings in E Major - Antonín Dvořák (and also that's their second waltz)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: none

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER |NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

You could have just stayed like this for the rest of your days: Astarion’s arms firmly holding you while the world blurred around you completely with your head thrown back and you dancing together until the world would fall down.

Your vampire being your single focal point, the one thing to always return to, the only thing you really ever needed – while the rush of the dance and the prickling sensation of having drunk just a tad too much gave you a feeling of pleasant light-headedness. Life could be so easy, so beautiful.

The waltz went on forever with you and Astarion beaming broadly, drunk on love, champagne and each other. And yet the dance ended all too quickly.

When an enormous crescendo began announcing the end of the waltz you lifted your head up again and grinned broadly at Astarion who was still rushing with you over the dancefloor as if he’d never done anything else in his life.

His red eyes were so open, the smile on his face as genuine as you had ever seen. A look that could almost make you believe that it had truly always been like that: no two hundred years of torture, just this perfect, gilded vision of a happy life.

You both knew it wasn’t true – but for this moment it was more than enough.

Horns in the orchestra rose up for a grand finale. Astarion turned you even more eagerly for these last couple of rounds, an almost feral grin splitting his face. Just the pure joy of the speed with which you were almost tossed around, made you throw your head back once more. A joyous, wild, almost feral laughter escaped from your lips – caused by the simple but deep delight of feeling so, so alive. You saw it on your vampire’s face too: a power so strong his undead self might’ve been more alive in this moment than others were in their whole existence.

Astarion’s hand let go of yours and joined his other at your waist and you leaned back even more to enjoy the dizzying rush, your hands quickly moving to cover your lover’s while you were sure you had never felt this free in your life. Flying couldn’t have felt any better than this.

And the vampire couldn’t rip his eyes from his beloved, the corners of his mouth curled up so far it made his face ache as he beheld his soulmate experiencing some of the rawest, purest joy, he’d ever seen in anyone. It seemed one of the divine entities he’d prayed to had eventually answered his pleas by putting you in his way after all. Finally blessing him with a piece of paradise.

But not a single god could have even competed with you in this very moment as Astarion could barely believe the beauty of the love of his life. His feeling of wonder and glee not second to yours in this moment that felt almost detached from anything – your surroundings, your past, your future.

Truly a night and a moment to never forget.

With a beat of the drum the orchestra ended on a high note. Couples all around you broke into cheering and clapping while the other guests joined in. The volume quickly rising levels over what the musicians had just ended with.

But Astarion and you didn’t join in. His hands were still on your hips and his eyes on your flushed face full of happiness. Your chest was heaving heavily. Who could have predicted that dancing could be just as exhausting as going into battle (or indulging in other physical activities). Your earlier assessment had been quite right you felt like. Although of course the aftermath felt much more delightful and much less dreadful.

It did nothing to bother you though because wild, unbound happiness was still flooding through you. And you saw it mirrored on Astarion’s face as well in the way his eyes sparkled like garnets and you felt his hands restlessly squeeze and tap on your hips, his vigour barely contained.

He opened his mouth wanting to say something while around you people were still in a frenzy. But before he could get a word out you stepped forward, dragged him down by his face and crushed his lips to yours in a way you had never kissed him before. The urge to show him how your heart was flowing over with love for him in this very moment was just too strong to resist. You needed an outlet for the overflowing in your chest – your whole body!

The vampire let it happen, arms raising almost helplessly before he wrapped them around you and pulled you in closer, kissing you back with just as much force and emotion. And when you released him, detangling from his arms, his crimson eyes were wide with surprise. He almost stumbled back being released from your passionate embrace.

Astarion was flustered and obviously speechless.

It must’ve been an illusion of the low lights, but it almost looked like a slither of pink blush crossed over his face up to the tips of his pointy ears. He blinked several times while his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were still on you: as if he had perceived a miracle right in front of his own eyes. And maybe that was exactly what you were to him.

Well, that surely was a first.

Your giggle felt almost a little hysterical as you rode off the last waves of this incredible emotional high and wrapped your arms around Astarion as your vampire was still staring off into space in surprised but delighted bliss. Meanwhile around you the dancefloor emptied slightly while the thundering applause had drizzled out already.

“We need to do this again some time, love, if that’s your reaction”, Astarion murmured as he regained his wits slowly and reciprocated the hug slowly. You buried your face at his chest, still grinning almost maniacally, not ready to let the moment pass.

Some of the guests passing around you, leaving the dancefloor threw the two of you glances. Everyone had seen your display of heartfelt affection and that seemingly had warmed up the crowd to you. One or two people went as far as touching your or Astarion’s shoulder as you kept standing there: the very illustration of a happy, young fairytale couple.

As that thought crossed your mind you almost started to giggle again – your little ironic roleplay had maybe become just a little tad too convincing.

You lifted your face off Astarion’s chest who had let his thumbs wander softly over your arms. “Now, my prince, are you ready to get your white stallion and steal me away for our first night of passion before we get married, and I have no other task in life than bear your children and raise them while you go off to some war from which you’ll never return?” you asked him, rambling on and on with the newly found energy and placed the back of your hand on your forehead in a dramatic gesture.

The vampire’s eyebrow in the meantime had arched higher and higher the more you added to the cliché imagery of your fairytale. He grinned at you, eyebrow still raised, giving him the expression of seriously questioning your sanity in this moment. “Darling, I honestly think you’re getting just a tad too much into this,” he whispered while the party, the drinking, the chatter rose up around you again.

“Also you do know my stance on horses, sweetheart.”

You laughed and pinched one of his cheeks. You were definitely still feeling high of everything and were in a silly mood. Thankfully Astarion didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he could barely contain his own laughter as he answered you.

“But at least you put the night of passion before the marriage, at least it’s not a prude tale,” he continued, his voice taking on a sultry note while he inclined his head to you.

“But scrap the terrible, stereotypical ending, my love, I’ll happily stay right here with you for as long as we both want to,” Astarion closed, his tone now a lot more genuine again. You could only answer with a big happy smile, placing your head against his chest again.

The orchestra in the meantime had taken a short break, some of the musicians allowing themselves to indulge in a singular glass of offered champagne before they continued playing for what would surely be a very long night still.

You pulled back from Astarion a little with a sigh: “You’re right, I guess this is all going straight to my head more even than the alcohol. I guess once we’re back home I will have to spend a week in the Lower City and get shit-faced every night at Maeve’s until they let me sleep under the big bench on the floor. You know to ground myself again.”

“Ah see, there’s my little feral street cat that I love so much again”, the Astarion replied in a haughty tone – with a tinge of disapproval and teasing disgust.

You kicked him – but only slightly as you stood too close to him to get him properly. “Be nice, you prick!”

The vampire only laughed and while holding onto your slim shoulders pressed a quick kiss to your lips. The orchestra was now getting ready to start playing again. The conductor tapping his baton against his stand again to gain everyone’s attention. Another waltz was announced while you tried to kick Astarion again for being a meanie.

“You could give me just one deeply romantic moment once in a while, you know that, Astarion? Without ruining it with your sass!”

“I didn’t bring up getting drunk at this piss poor establishment someone even dared to call a tavern,” Astarion replied. You simply tried to swat his arm but the rogue took a half step back, dodging just out of your reach

“Did you really get so drunk at this forlorn tavern that they let you sleep it off on the floor?” he asked with mock worry on his face

“I won’t answer this question right now, Astarion,” you replied and let go of him to take a step back yourself while pursing your lips.

“Well then, darling,” he said and grabbed hold of your wrist before you could step away from him further. “Allow me another question then: will you join me for another dance?” The low, golden light of the chandeliers sparkled in Astarion’s eyes as he said that with his head slightly bowed to you. He was all of a sudden on his best behaviour again as you heard the musicians in the orchestra readying themselves for another piece.

In this in between moment you took a second to take your partner in again. You had been with him all night. You had seen him get dressed even but with how he looked at you right now you were just wholly smitten by him again. He looked like sin in a suit – and you were so ready to indulge again. Forgotten was the short insolent quarrel. But how could you stay mad at him for long when the look on his face and wide red puppy eyes spoke of nothing but adoration and deep affection for you.

So, when his smile and his offered hand promised you another round of exhilarating joy should you accept his offer, you didn’t even think before agreeing and grabbing his hand.

His fingers wrapped around yours as Astarion smiled happily at you and swung you around once more while the strings softly began playing a new piece.

Your vampire made you take one – or two – extra turns before he pulled you back in, arm wrapping firmly around you once more and then starting to twirl around the room again. It was a slower waltz now that fit well with how the mood seemed to have shifted from electrifying frenzy to something a bit calmer now. The dancefloor had emptied quite a bit. Many of the guests, as you noticed while turning your head around while Astarion made you glide over the polished wooden floors, were back to drinking, chatting, showing off and gossiping. And another thing you noticed: if everything had been highly polished at first, just like the gold buttons on most everyone’s doublets or the silver of amulets around necks, there was a slight general disarray noticeable. Some cravats and scarfs had been loosened, buttons opened up, lipstick smeared, and headpieces started to slide dangerously off people’s heads. All which was going hand in hand with a general air of tipsiness and derailment. At this point in the night, it might’ve been impossible to find just about one person not slightly stumbling from maybe having had one or two glasses of champagne too many.

And you were pretty sure you even spotted at least one hysterically laughing tiefling lady sipping directly from a huge, heavy-looking bottle – having to use her other hand to even get it lifted. When another turn took you around again, you spotted her once more – and realised that it was the woman who’d been involved in the group from earlier. Apparently, she had dodged her cheating husband for a good bottle in hopes of something less treacherous – good for her.

Your gaze snapped back to Astarion, trying to find out if he had spotted her as well. And you knew he had when you saw his wicked, almost vicious smirk as he pulled you in a little closer with his hand on the small of your back. He sighed abruptly and dramatically while his face formed to a mocking expression mimicking disappointment and compassion: “Seems not everyone can be as lucky, loving and harmonious as the two of us, my love.”

Apparently just for the timing of the punchline did your feet choose this moment to make you stumble and almost fall onto Astarion. He hissed at you.

Only his roguish quick reflexes grabbing you by the shoulders and counterbalancing you stopped you both from toppling over. He lost not a moment before picking up the pace of the waltz again while you were still recovering from the shock.

Astarion clicked his tongue in disapproval, lips pursed: “I stand corrected.”

You snarled at him and were just about to show him how ‘harmonious’ you could be when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Someone else that was familiar.

You craned your neck in hopes of catching another glimpse while Astarion kept scolding you for not paying attention and how you would cause the two of you to lose the image of the imposing, perfect couple if you tumbled over each other while dancing. But you were indeed barely paying attention and therefore ignored what your partner was blabbering about.

Another turn and then you saw them again: another couple enjoying the dance together. Maybe a tad slower than the two of you and a bit less fluently. And in one half of the couple, you recognised your lovely elderly lady neighbour. She was dancing with a man much taller than her small frame, elegantly clothed with long black hair, tied together at his back in a low ponytail. While they slowly and a bit sluggishly turned, you saw how young and devilishly handsome her partner was. She was beaming up at him. And just the huge, genuine smile took years off her aged face.

You couldn’t help yourself, your mouth fell open. Your gaze snapped back to Astarion once more, hoping again that he had observed what you had just seen. And surely, he had, because there was at least slight surprise and even a bit of admiration on his face – his downturned corners of his mouth and lifted eyebrows giving him away.

“Old lady still got it within her, it seems”, Astarion commented and hummed approvingly. You had to agree.

“I hope it’s not for her money or estate,” you replied. You felt how the vampire just shrugged under your hand on his shoulder. You craned your neck again to look at them. But when you saw how he as well looked at her as if she was the most precious thing, he’d ever come across you knew it wasn’t.

“I do wonder though. When they go to bed how well she’s taking it with the age differ-“, Astarion began with a wicked glint and a grin that made him look almost fiendish.

This time you stumbled fully on purpose. Causing Astarion to hiss at you angrily again.

“You’re one to talk about age difference, grandpa!” you hissed back and stuck out your tongue when he began twirling you around with more force as if he was trying to work the insolent attitude right out of you by force.

Had he called the two of you harmonious just moments ago? Apparently only if the harmony was accounted for by the way you both violently bickered with each other like an old married couple.

“Why am I even taking this from someone barely older than a child,” Astarion snapped angrily while his grip on you got a little firmer, trying to show you there would be no more slip-ups, not under his watch.

“Be happy, I’ve decided to take care of an elderly citizen, love,” you spat back but barely hiding a grin.

Astarion huffed. “You’re not simply after my money, are you?”

You snorted. “There’s barely any notable amount to speak of, is there?”

The pale elf sighed in mocking disappointment: “So you’re only in it for the love – how sentimental and very unbusinesslike of you, my dear.”

“Guess, we’ll have to do with the feelings we have for each other,” you sighed back. Astarion too gave you another dramatic sigh as well while you shared a deep look into each other’s eyes. Then you both started to laugh softly before the strings of the waltz became slower still and more melancholic, the bittersweet music making a feeling of yearning rise up in your chest.

You were focused wholly on each other again with only the music lulling you. The room, the party, the other guests swirled by in colourful but easily ignorable billows. With steady moves again now you let yourself be taken away by the feelings rising up within your chest and your vampire’s tender expression while you moved over the dancefloor once more with the elegance of water in motion.

“Have you,” Astarion began in a much more sombre and genuine tone now after a while of just gazing at each other, “have you ever wondered how it would have been? If we’d met under different circumstances? Happier ones, I mean.”

“You mean, if you hadn’t become-“ you awkwardly gesticulated around with your hand wrapped with his. He simply nodded. And you immediately understood what he was trying to say: would there have been a version of events where you had found each other without all the pain and the turmoil in between?

The way he looked at you in such a vulnerable manner now made your heart ache. You saw the cracks within him he usually did his best to cover up and hide – and that he only trusted you with to only ever see. If only there was a way to relieve him of this weight he felt.

A pained smile swept over your face: “I have.” You sighed. You had to look away for a single second.

“Although in every version I’ve come up with so far we would have crossed ways and probably would have only spared each other a spiteful glance – with me having grown up homeless on the streets and you being a magistrate with noble upbringing and everything”, you continued. And then you remembered something you had spoken about earlier that evening, your gaze snapped back to his. “And I would have probably left with your purse and laughed about how stupid you were.” A weak smile played on your lips with the weak attempt of lightening the mood again.

You saw some of the pain you felt mirrored on the vampire’s face. His gaze shortly slipped from yours as well as he seemed taken by his own imagination of an alternate meeting, another ending to your story. Then he offered you a small, slightly sad smile when he looked into your eyes again: “If only you were an actual princess, things might have turned out differently, my heart.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, isn’t it?”

Astarion shrugged and was prepared to move on from the topic, but now that he said it, there was something about it.

“Although,” you began, catching the vampire’s fleeting attention once more. He cocked his head slightly. “This might have not even the biggest ‘if’.”

Astarion’s interest was caught, his full lips forming a questioning “oh” while his eyebrows jumped up. Frankly, he seemed thankful for an opportunity to leave the territory of hurtful memories and regrets behind.

You cleared your throat, getting yourself ready to reveal something about your past you didn’t like to dwell on – at all.

“Well, I might have told you that my father was a pretty high-up elven noble, right?” Astarion bowed his head to you, waiting for the new piece of information in this, narrowing his eyes.

“Turns out, he’s actually the king of a small, mostly secluded living elven enclave in some Faerun forest – all this being part of the reason why my mother dropped me on the steps of some cloister after birth. A bastard child is one thing, but the bastard child of a king – unimaginable, not tolerable”, you burst out all at once like ripping the knife out of a wound. And just like a blade viciously pulled from flesh made blood gush from the cut, making it hurt more, you felt how a whole lot of emotions of long hidden away memories were about to wash over you.

You couldn’t hold the vampire’s gaze for a few long moments while you fought to not get swept away by hurtful, long stowed away memories. Astarion’s gaze at you softened, his thumb wandering over your entwined fingers. He didn’t fully understand what all this meant for you. But he surely knew and realised when someone was not willing to share further details about pain of the past.

If you wanted there would come a time and a place to talk more about this and what I meant for you. But the middle of a dancefloor during a big ball was neither for that.

You remained in silence for long heartbeats while you asked yourself why you had so randomly offered up this piece of information about yourself – something that you had neither thought about in a long time nor wanted to pay any mind to in the future. Where you came from meant nothing to you, only the present and the man that held you was important for you now.

After a while you had caught yourself again and you lifted your head to meet his gaze again.

“I guess that’s just what we are right now, Astarion, a vampire only having broken free from his master after two centuries and a former street kid that also barely made it as a thief”, you said with a small bitter laugh.

Astarion let his thumb wander over your entwined hands again while he pulled you in closer once more, both his hands on your back now as he still made you both turn around lazily, another waltz nearing his end.

“For what it’s worth, darling,” he murmured and offered you a genuine smile with wide, open eyes, “I’m sure you agree we would have both been happy if we hadn’t gone through everything we did to get here. But I am still very happy that I’m here now and that I get to share it with you, my heart. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His crimson eyes conveyed his love for you as he cupped your cheek and the strings drew out a single last mournful note. Slowly your lips curled into a smile and saw it spread over Astarion’s face too – two partners in crime.

What was it even worth to mourn something that could have never been?

And you had to agree with him. You were incredibly happy for the time since you had met him, if not for the circumstances. But luckily, from there on out, things had been looking up tremendously.

Your future, you thought, looked quite golden, and with a fair share of garnets strewn across.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please):

@spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear @wraithmaine @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @davenswitcher

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of fake smiles and hidden lies #tav #bg3

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moonstruckme · 3 months

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hi mae!! i saw ur anon earlier abt which characters u have reqs for rn and u mentioned not having any for tasm!peter, which i think is a crime, so i’m here to change that!

i looooved your marauders fic where reader came out as nonbinary (im enby myself) and i was wondering how that would go with peter? maybe during the stage where they both know they like each other, but haven’t officially started dating yet, and reader comes out to him as what they see as a “warning”. i’m openly enby but still present as very femme, so whenever there’s even an inkling of romance between me and a guy i’m always like “oh they dont know im enby. if i tell them they’re not gonna like me anymore, but also, this is who i am”. of course, no need to write this if you aren’t comfortable/not feeling inspired by it!! thank you love 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting! I'm always a bit worried about these because I can only really try to imagine the enby experience from my outsider's perspective, so please lmk if there are any inaccuracies and/or insensitivities :)

tasm!Peter Parker x nb!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re constructing your lego flowers at about half Peter’s pace. Peter’s a whiz with everything, and you thought you were used to it, but the way he’s leaving you in his dust is borderline humiliating. He barely even has to look at the instructions, while you’re turning them over in your hands, glancing repeatedly between the paper and the small plastic pieces strewn between you on the couch.

It might have something to do with your lack of focus. Which might have something to do with Peter being in especially flirty form today.

It’s no secret that the two of you have feelings for each other. You have for a while, and you’ve both been aware of it for almost as long. Until today, neither of you seemed prepared to do anything about it. But something feels different. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, quick glances through his lashes as he talks, or the way his friendly touches seem more intentional than usual, or the fact that he’d wanted to build lego flowers with you because he thought you’d like it, despite you never having exhibited any interest in legos in your life.

None of it is unwelcome. You want to enjoy it, but the escalation makes your palms sweat. It makes it seem like something is going to happen, some change, and you haven’t been honest with him yet. You feel like a time bomb. Or a mirage. Peter thinks he’s getting one thing with you, and then you lift the veil to reveal that you’re something else entirely. You feel like you have an obligation to clue him in before he makes any kind of move. And you’re scared of missing your window, but you have no idea when it’s passing.

“I think you’re missing this one.” Peter’s hand moves over your lap, depositing a lego piece.

You look up at him, returning his smile. “Thanks,” you say. “This is super unfair, by the way. You’ve got years of experience on me.”

“It’s not a competition,” he laughs, looking at you in that way again. Warm, sunny, and something else. He holds his finished product out to you, a plasticky snapdragon. “Here, add it to our bouquet.”

You take it from him compliantly, picking up the vase you’d dug out from your cabinet to hold the growing selection of plastic flowers. You can feel Peter’s eyes on you, and your hands shake a little as you arrange it among the others. If he puts on smooth jazz and starts lighting candles, you’ll bolt.

“You’re gonna have a whole collection by the time we’re done here,” he says, and you hum in affirmation. His smile fades a bit. “Are you hungry? I could make us some dinner.”

You aren’t, really, but you ought to be. You suspect your appetite’s just clogged up with nerves. “Sure, I could eat.”

Peter hops up, seeming happy to have something to do. “Okay, sick.” He starts going through cabinets, energy zinging off him in every direction. “We have frozen pizza! Or, uh, leftover thai food, or mac and cheese. Ooh, and we’ve got breadcrumbs! We could crust up the mac and cheese, if we’re feeling fancy.” He looks at you, raising his eyebrows comically high.

“We can be fancy,” you say, trying to imitate his teasing tone.

You don’t think you pull it off very well. Peter frowns and sets the boxed mac and cheese down on the counter.

“Hey, are you okay?” You must look startled, because he softens the question with a smile. “You just seem a little spacey today. Is…are you having fun?”

“I am,” you say, perhaps too quickly. Your voice is tinged with desperation. You try again, more sincerely. “I am, Pete. This is fun. I’m sorry, I’m just a little out of it.”

“That’s okay.” He makes his way back over to the couch, folding a leg underneath him as he sits. His eyes are earnest on yours. Reassuring, even though he doesn’t know what there is to reassure yet. “What’s eating you?”

You try to look casual, make your tone sound offhand. “Have I mentioned that I’m nonbinary?”

Peter blinks. “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

“Oh.” You grin, shrugging. Every move you make feels stilted and embarrassing. “Well, I am. I’ve just been thinking I should make sure you knew, just in case you didn’t.”

“Okay.” He seems a bit stunned, but he hasn’t broken eye contact with you. And Peter’s not looking at you like he’s seeing through the veil. He’s looking at you the way he always has. “Are you—is this your way of trying to tell me that you want me to use different pronouns for you?”

“What?” you laugh. “No. I’m not trying to tell you anything, just…I like you, and I didn’t want to, like, trap you in anything if you didn’t know.” The levity saps from your tone as you go on, until your voice is painfully quiet. “I understand if you don’t like me anymore. It’s cool.”

“What?” Peter repeats you, but the delivery is off. He sounds gutted. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug. You’re doing your best to look normal, but your face is burning something awful.

“You’re not—” he shakes his head. “You’re not trapping me in anything. Sweetheart.” Peter surges into your corner of the couch, crowding you as much as hugging you. Mindless of the viscous little plastic pieces biting into his knees. He smells like laundry detergent. “Thank you for telling me,” he says, face an inch from your ear, “but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. Sorry to disappoint.”

You laugh, the sound embarrassingly choked. He rubs your back roughly.

“I can tell this is you just trying to get out of things,” he goes on with impressive lightness, “and I really hate to tell you this, but you’re stuck with me. We have a lego bouquet now. Those are binding.” You laugh again, and Peter’s voice drops to a more sincere register. “Thanks for telling me though, really.” He releases you, or partly, hands sliding down your shoulders to rest on the crooks of your elbows. “I like getting to know you. I’ll take whatever new material you want to give me.”

“Thanks,” you say softly. You muster your confidence, taking his forearms in your hands and giving them a friendly squeeze. “I didn’t realize the lego flowers were a contract, though. I think I may want to renegotiate my terms.”

Peter blows out a breath, shaking his head. “Sorry, can’t help you. There’s no backing out now.”

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ave09 · 10 months

Text

wake up

indiana jones x wife!reader

note: the chokehold this man has on me. i watched all of the movies recently for the first time and i’m obsessed. and i’m also going through lots of personal issues and what better way to escape then to write about my new comfort character? and i will most likely write a whole heck of a lot more about my main man indy, also; this is set during temple of doom.

anxiety clawed at you.

this couldn’t be happening. it just couldn’t.

the thugees had stripped you of everything. they’d taken away your freedom, the boy who was like a son to you, and your husband.

your indy.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. you, indiana, and short round were to go on this adventure, retrieve the sankara stone, and return to shang hai.

and yet here you were, about to be sacrificed to a god who went by the name of kali.

clad in a white gown, you were wheeled off, where your untimely death would await.

imagine your surprise when you spotted your husband, standing tall alongside the thugees. your eyes widened at the sight.

indiana’s shirt had been removed, his back littered with wounds, no doubt from a lashing. but instead of his normal self, where he always seemed to have something up his sleeve, he seemed calm.

too calm.

what had they done to him?

“indy!” you shouted. at any sign of his wife’s distress, he’d have leapt into action immediately, taking out anyone who got in his way.

but he did nothing. absolutely nothing.

“indiana!” you were silenced by a deadly glare sent by mola ram. he was quite the scary man, and you wished to delay your death for as long as possible. the evil

man then gestured to indiana, a grin upon his face.

“come.”

you froze, panic taking over.

no.

you watched in horror as your husband obeyed, moving towards you, almost lifelessly. “indiana..” he didn’t acknowledge you, but he now stood before you, mindlessly chanting as he made sure the chains wrapped around your wrists were secure.

“indiana, wake up. wake up!” you begged, trying to keep the tears from spilling. you felt so helpless, you should be trying to save him, not be tied up.

“look at me, i am your wife. your wife! i need you to wake up now!”

and yet there was no emotion, absolutely nothing.

“indiana! please! indy! henry! junior!” you tried everything, anything to get him to respond but to no avail.

you couldn’t help the tears that slid down your cheeks. “please.. wake up.” the man before you lifted a large hand, placing it upon the side of your face. you felt a calloused thumb caress the tears away, and for a moment you wondered if he was somehow still there.

“indy?”

his hand became slack, falling to his side. he then moved away and rejoined the thugees.

panic seized you as you felt the care you were trapped in began to rise. “no! no no, please!” but it was too late.

it had begun.

you were suspended in the air, facing the floor as it opened, revealing a pit of lava. this was it. you were really going to die. you’d had so many close calls in the past, but never had you thought of this being the way you went out.

“oh God, please forgive me.” you muttered, the heat of the lava burning your skin the lower you sank. “watch over shorty, let him live.” you pleaded, squeezing your eyes shut.

but then suddenly, you stopped. you only assumed that something had happened up top. the only sound you could hear was the loud crackling of the fire below.

you could only hope that something good was happening up there.

it felt like ages had passed before you started to rise. a wave of relief washed over you. it wasn’t long before you were out, never feeling more relieved in your life. you glanced at indiana, who was waiting, short round beside him.

“indy? is it really you?” you asked as the man quickly unchained you, not hesitating to pull you into a tight embrace, “it’s me.” he whispered breathlessly, pecking your cheek lightly before placing a kiss to your lips, “don’t ever call me junior again.” he scolded before turning to shorty, “thanks for everything kid.”

of course it was shorty who had saved indiana. “your welcome dr. jones. i had to save you or the missus would be very upset.”

“damn right, shorty.” you replied with a grin. “now, as much i love reunions, we gotta get out of here, all of us.” indiana said. you nodded in agreement as your husband placed shorty’s hat upon his head, “let’s go dr. jones and missus!”

and off you all went, determined to escape this temple of doom.

#indiana jones #indiana jones and the temple of doom #indiana jones x reader #indy x reader #short round #harrison ford #harrison ford x reader #temple of doom #this ain’t my best work but it’s also my first time writing for indy so whateves

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sailorshadzter · 25 days

Text

we'll call this a warm up piece, even if it did take me all day to write lol

“I said I was sorry, what more do you want?”

She eyes him from across the room, arms folded across her chest. “I want you to mean it,” she hisses, every inch the frozen Northern queen she should have been. Never him, it never should have been him.“Forget it,” she says next, turning away, but he cannot help but to reach for her then, to draw her in as he always should have done. As he’s always wished to do. “Jon…” His name is soft upon her lips, curving then with the slightest of frowns.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he swears with a clutch of his hands, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the wool of her severe black gown. “I swear it, Sansa,” he continues with a nod of his head, forehead tipping down to touch hers. They are so close now he wonders if she can hear the steady beating of his heart. She doesn’t say it, but she can, making her wonder if he in turn can hear hers. “I only did what I had to do… To protect the North, to protect you…” Finally, he says the words he’s kept inside all of this time. That everything he’s done has been for her, for their home, but in the end… It was always for her. Every move he made, every choice he decided upon, it all led back to her. “You are the one thing in this world that means anything to me, Sansa.” He could live without Winterfell, he could even live without the North, but he could never live without her. “I love you,” he says these words without hesitation, knowing he should have said them ages ago, but fear kept him from speaking them to anyone but the gods themselves. He knows it to be wrong, to love her as he does, but he cannot stop the feelings. And truthfully, he’s not certain he wants to.

Her cheeks flood with color, but she does not pull away, not even when his hands tighten their grip upon her. This was the one person, the one man, she would so willingly allow to hold her, to touch her. “Jon…” She whispers his name, his confession running circles in her head, the meaning of his words sending chills down her spine. “You mean what you say?” She asks softly, daring to believe in him as she always has. Jon has never led her astray before, she supposes this time couldn’t be any different. In truth, she’s perhaps been too blinded by her own jealousy to see what was right there in front of her eyes. Despite the anger she once held so tightly to, she softens there in his arms, yielding to his touch, sinking into the warmth of it. He holds her as he’s never done before, the gesture speaking volumes; in his arms, she feels safer than she’s ever felt in all of her life. That realization strikes her and she comes to understand in that moment that it was not just in his arms that she felt so safe, it was simply the notion of being with him that made her feel such a way. To her, Jon was safety, Jon was hope, Jon was… Well, Jon was love.

“I’ve gone to war for you once, I am to go again, what more can I do to prove myself to you?” He asks with a good natured chuckle and she finds herself to be smiling. “I love you, Sansa.” She was his reason to live, his reason to fight, his reason for happiness. It was that very smile that he fought for, the thing he longed to protect was her happiness, her safety. He would fight any battle, any war, any foe if it meant keeping her safe.

“And I…” She begins softly, but he’s leaning in once more, so close now that she can feel the curve of his lips as he smiles. She cannot say the words, not yet, for she is so compelled to touch her lips to his- to kiss him as she’s never so willingly kissed any man before. He is warm and tastes of ale, the sweetened kind, bringing another smile to her face when she draws away a few moments later. “I love you, too, Jon,” she whispers and it’s his turn to lean in, to capture her mouth with a kiss of his own. There it was, the very truth she’s kept to herself all this time, since perhaps those earliest days at Castle Black. She knows it shouldn’t be, this thing between them, forbidden by the laws of the world, and yet… She must wonder how something so wonderful, so beautiful, could ever be wrong? Her hand traces the length of his jaw, his stubble rough against the pads of her fingers, yet gentle enough that she wonders how long it would take for his cheeks to rub hers red. “I am glad you’re home,” she murmurs, reminding him that he’s been home only one single night now, that there has been so much he’s missed, so much he’s been without. “You mustn't leave me again,” she adds and he laughs, tugging playfully on a stray lock of her long red hair.

“Even the gods themselves could not make me part ways with you now,” he swears and she knows he speaks the truth. She sinks back into his embrace, ever intent to never again separate herself from him.

This was where she was always meant to be.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #actuallyjonsa #my writing #i wrote this

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lillyfics · 5 months

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Soaring through the Skies || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations in the journey of your love with Aemond.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! College's kicking my ass

TW: swearing, sexual violence, angst, heartbreak, violence, child death, infidelity, death, references to smut

Chapter 4 (WC: 3,199)

You wake up, thinking you must have fallen asleep under your dragon because you don’t think you are physically capable of moving. Staring at the canopy hung over your bed, you wonder what went wrong. Was any of it even your fault? If not, why do you have to endure any of this? If yes, where did you go wrong, and can you even fix it? During your dwelling, you catch movement in the corner of your eyes. It’s not just you it seems, even your good mother seems like she is faring at her worst. Even though it seems impossible, you gain enough strength to evade her touch when she tries to pet your cheeks. She flinches, but you can also see the understanding in her eyes. You readjust your head and continue staring at the canopy. Tears (of sadness? Or dryness?) leak through the corner, sliding across your face and into your hair.

As much as you want to, you know you can’t avoid this any longer, you need to know what’s happening, nothing but the whole truth, and Alicent Hightower is your best bet. You choose to sit up and lean against the headboard, again refusing her help and reach for the water pitcher yourself to quench your parched throat. You know drinking water straight from the pitcher is unlady like but you don’t have an ounce of care anymore. Seems like your good mother doesn’t care either, as she doesn’t reprimand you. She looks at you with pity and sadness, and you look back at her eyes with despair and anger. Knowing that she can’t avoid you anymore, she talks.

“I didn’t agree to it you know, my father’s ideas. I have accepted you as my good daughter at the sept, and it was a vow that I wasn’t willing to break.”

“Oh, so you are only willing to break the oaths made to the king then?” you scoffed. Even in your delicate condition, your impatience had to take the reins. She chooses to not respond to your attitude, and instead just continued. “Aemond didn’t want to either, he loves you, every lie out of his mouth was to protect you.” You can’t help but be impressed by the audacity of this woman.

“How can I even trust any of you after this?” you questioned. It is the truth. You have given them all your trust and they have done nothing but misuse it. “Even if everything else was a lie to protect me, what about the bastard at Harrenhal?” You know that you hit the mark, as she plainly refuses to meet your gaze now, confirming your suspicions.

You could feel your heartbreak. You didn’t think you could lose anymore hope, but you just did. Even if Aemond had lied to you about the other things, you think you could have recovered. Sure, it would take a lot of effort and it might not go back to what it was but now, the life you thought you had just ended.

Alicent Hightower knows that she comes off as an awful person, but in this moment she knows she will always be on your side, even though she knows she can never make you believe it. After all, just like you, she was once a young girl who dreamt of a hopeful future only for it be crushed like a flower in the hands of a toddler who doesn’t understand its beauty yet. She reaches forward and clasps your hand tightly not letting it go despite your struggle to do so.

“Look, I am not asking you for your trust or support, knowing that I have lost the rights to it a far long time ago. All you need to know is that I won’t let anything happen to you, I only have three grandchildren now when I should have four instead, Jaehaera, Maelor, and the babe in your belly. You might not trust me, you might think I am doing this just for your babe but that is not it. Even after the babe is born, you will have my protection to my utmost capability. I will find a way. I will.”

Her eyes shone with sincerity. You want to believe her and gods what would you do to have at least one person on your side you could be true with, but you restrain yourself. You trusted one person and look what happened.

Titles are long gone. You don’t see her as the dowager queen anymore. She is just Alicent Hightower, a flower who withered. You on the other hand, are a flower who is steadily withering.

In that moment, something shifts between the relationship between you and Alicent. She starts spending time with you every day, whether it be alone or sometimes with the children she bring along. It soothes a little bit of the pain, but you know it can’t completely be cured. Your babe grows, and that is all what you have been focusing on lately. One evening, you sit by the fireplace, doing some light reading while munching on some apple pies, something of which you have been craving lately. However, your moment of peace was interrupted when Alicent marched into your chambers, with a worried look in her eyes. Taking a seat next to you, she tries to gage your feelings so that she can cautiously deliver some terrible news it seems. While you are worried about harming the babe, you don’t think any news she brings could cause you more distress than the previous news you have received. She moves to hold your arm, and you let her. “I know you were close with Jace…” she hesitates when she sees your eyes widen. You think you know what follows, but still you don’t want to believe it. “Just tell”, you stammer. “Jacaerys Velaryon was killed by the triarchy. His dragon was shot down.” You are in agony, but you still see that she has more news to tell, and you nod for her to continue as tears drip from your eyes. “The triarchy attacked when Rhaenyra was trying to send her youngest two sons away to safety on a ship-“ You don’t let her finish, immediately enquiring her about your younger brothers. Her eyes drop even more, and along with it your stomach does too.

“From our sources, Aegon was able to escape on his dragon, but…but…”

“But what?” you raise your voice. “Nothing is known of Viserys.”

Small, but noticeable sobs escape your lips. Alicent, in her motherly tone, tries to console you. “Nothing is set in stone about Viserys yet, he could still be alive, try to keep some hope up for your baby brother”, she says softly. How could you? How could you still hope for better things. Just when you try to accept that things can’t get more worse than this, it does. Viserys, oh Viserys, he was like you first child. You remember his small giggles. You try to remember how he tried to learn to walk for the first time. You try to remember how much he loved you, and how much you love him. And you can’t even grieve him properly now, could you? Some part of his grief is stolen by Jacaerys. Jacaerys, a sweet, honorable, noble, prince. Though he was young, he was one of the greatest people you have ever known, and the honor of being loved by him is something you will hold close to your heart forever. You can’t help but wonder if he hated you before he died. He gave you something dear to him, only for you not to accept it. Maybe that’s why you are suffering now, atoning for your sins.

Days now are a blend of repetition. Nothing unique. You sob. You grieve. You suffer. You are painfully aware that you are in no position to make any moves. Just a pawn. Bent to everyone else’s wills. The only thing that is able to bring you out of your pit of despair is your growing babe, and its movements within. Gods, your babe is so active. Is it because he is excited, or is it because he is struggling to get out of this cage of misery? You could never know, yet you still try your best to protect him. Him? Your mind wants you to believe it will be a little boy, however you still aren’t sure. In the beginning, you wanted a little boy like Aemond. Intelligent, honorable, and so much more, your Aemond was. Now, you aren’t even sure if he is your Aemond anymore.

Slowly pacing across the chambers, the only company being your good mother and your niece and nephew, you try to calm yourself from the discomfort you are facing, but from the look on Alicent’s face it is obvious you are failing to do so. “What are you feeling? And do you need anything? Some cakes perhaps? Maybe pies? Something to drink mayhaps-“ You stop her rambling, noticing that it has increased in the past few months- only to clutch your belly as a sharp pain spreads throughout your core. Wetness slithers down your legs. NO, NO, no-your mind is racing, knowing it is not time yet, how could it be? Your belly might look big, but it is only a few months along right? Alicent rushes to your side, helping you to rest nearby while the maids come in to rush the children out. She tries to get help, but she is unable to so as you don’t leave your iron grip on her. You need her to be by your side. Please, please. She is the only one to have shown kindness to you, even though it might not entirely be truthful. You don’t have your father by your side, you don’t have your sister by your side either. Neither are your brothers. Most importantly your husband, which breaks your heart. So, of course, you need Alicent by your side. And she does. As the midwives fill the chambers, Alicent helps you out of your dress along with a few maids, with nothing but tenderness etched across her face. She also undoes your elaborate braiding, only to replace it with a simple braid that keeps hair out of your face and causes no trouble laying your head back if the need arises to.

And it begins, the labour. Your lower body convulses with pain. You feel nothing besides it. Blood, sweat, and water coat you. You only realize now much time has passed, as the chambers have started to darken as the maids began lighting candles around. Nonetheless, you are still pushing. You are crying, screaming, howling out of your chest, hoping that any of it could possibly stop the pain. You just want it to be over and done with it. In the delirium, you didn’t notice someone arriving your birthing chambers. “Aegon, this is no appropriate place for you”, Alicent reprimands. He still doesn’t leave, instead choosing to sit on the other side and hold your other hand that is not held by Alicent. He hasn’t uttered a single word, just taking a cloth nearby and wiping your sweaty forehead. More time passes by, and both Alicent and Aegon has yet to make a move to leave your side. You take notice of the maester talking to both of them, but you don’t have enough energy to acknowledge what he is actually saying. You only know that whatever he said must have offended Aegon as he sent the maester out of your chambers in disgrace. Aegon moves closer, helping you sit up, and then takes his place his behind you so you could lean against his back. And he helps you push. His hands are on your stomach, pushing it forward as you are slouched down and screaming. Few more pushes and then, your screams were interrupted by new cries filling the crowded chambers. You blink your tears away in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse of your babe. “A girl! Princess, you have a baby girl!” exclaimed one handmaiden, whose name you can’t be bothered to remember. A baby girl. You have a baby girl. You reach your arms forward, trying to touch your child, afraid that she would disappear if you don’t. Understanding your emotions, Clara roughly wipes her and hands you her over to you. Placed upon your arms, she ceases crying, opting to stare at you instead. Her eyes, one purple, one brown, both so dark they are almost indistinguishable, glimmer with wonder. Her fat cheeks tinted red, thick silver strands curling upon her head. “She’s beautiful,” Aegon says behind you, reminding you of his presence. While a small part of you intrigued that he is here, taking part in a very intimate moment with you, you push it away as only the thoughts of your baby occupy your head now. Alicent, also next to you, asks what you want to name her. Aelora. An old valyrian name meaning “unexpected.” While it may not mean something grand, you think it fits her, as she is an unexpected boon to you in these troubling times.

“Aelora”

“Guess I will make the official announcement then,” Aegon exclaims before leaving, finally not being able to stand Alicent’s judgmental looks. Not just Alicent’s looks, but the maesters and the maids you notice. It was when he moves to leave you become aware that you were laying on his chest, and become aware of what it implies. You don’t know what to make of this new found predicament, but as you meet his eyes when he stands by the bed, you notice something familiar. A something familiar that you look at in the mirror every day these past several months. A feeling of loneliness. Guess he was trapped here too, and wanted to feel something. Anything. Even if it is a gruesome birth he had no purpose participating in. He nods at you, a flicker of understanding between the both of you.

You hold Aelora as she feeds from your breast. Even though she was scarcely a week at this point, she feeds from you like it her last meal. You could think that it was just yesterday Aemond held your hand and told you about how he killed Luke. Now, you are holding your babe in your arms. It has been nearly eight moons, not perfect but a near time for a babe to be born. Has it really been that long? You made a babe and the babe has taken its first breathe, yet still the war is going on, a war that was started on the night he she was made.

The birth of your babe has been a nice change, kept you lighter on your feet, and you took advantage of that. You stroll through the corridors, the courtyard, and the gardens more frequently now. Being trapped in your chambers with your babe is no good for either of you. The movement keeps you alive, and your babe is also looking at the world for the first time, with you to introduce it to her. One night, you were perched upon a balcony, showing the moon to Aelora. No, you were showing your Aelora to the moon. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” you hear yourself saying. You cherished these solitary moments spent with your daughter. You are alone no more, as you have your Aelora with you. While everyone else who loved you had their conditions, you knew Aelora held none. You knew it from the toothless grins she gave you. And you do the same. You love her unconditionally too. But you are not alone all the time now, as everyone seems to be excited about the new babe. Jaehaera and Maelor join you frequently, along with their grandmother sometimes. Alicent looks a juxtaposition of youthful, maternal, and exhausted these days. The war is keeping her occupied, you guess. But you don’t mind the solitude. You bravely march upon the court, with your concerns only existing regarding your daughter. Their looks and stares don’t bother you no more. It’s you and your Aelora against the world, not that any harm would befall you in court. At first you were convinced that it was Aemond’s love that was protecting you from any harm. Instead, it was Otto Hightower, wanting you as his pretty little bird in a cage so that Runestone wouldn’t go against the greens’ factions. Before, you would have been devastated that your safety wasn’t out of Aemond’s love but now, it doesn’t bother you much. Sure, it still stings, but he is no longer the most important person in your life. You do feel guilty of how easily you were able to discard him, but he was the one to do to you first, even more insulting is that it is with a bastard witch. While these thoughts drowned your mind before, now they don’t. Aelora is there to keep you afloat now.

The stars glitter across the sky, and Aelora can’t fall asleep, hence, you are wide awake too. She necessarily isn’t fussy, just content to be in your arms, with reasons of her own. Nights like these are when you think of your escapes. Would anyone even notice you making your escape. You can easily tie Aelora to your chest, make way through the secret passages and onto your dragon. No, it is too much of a risk, not just to you, but to Aelora too. Surely, they might have gotten more aware of the passageways since your father’s stint. Thinking of your father, you aren’t even sure how welcomed you would be from the other side. Surely your father wouldn’t have sent those assassins if he had at least a slight regard for your position, neither do you want to be part of a side that would kill children. What do you even do now? All you could do is be still for now. However, just because you are sitting still doesn't mean you are idle. You are always thinking. Plotting. You might be a glorified prisoner, but you are still the Lady of Runestone and that means a lot, doesn’t it? You just have to be patient.

The night gets colder, and right when you think Aelora is about to rest her eyes, you hear muttering outside the doors. “Is it a good time…maybe tomorrow…might be asleep…” Tomorrow what? You can never sleep now can you? Not without know what they are talking about. “What?” you commanded sternly as you open the doors. Even while just dressed in robes, the domineering tone of your voice and the sharp gaze of your eyes made them cower. It’s Clara, one of your maids and Ser Luther, one of your knights. It seems that they are both ashamed to be discovered, but you need to know. “JUST TELL ME!” you scream-whispered, taking note to not disturb your Aelora. Unable to meet your eyes, Clara has her head down while the good Ser gives you the news. “There are rumors your highness, rumors that your husband killed you father on top of God’s Eye.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond x oc

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kristannafever · 1 month

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Second Chances

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: Explicit (See tags) WC: 3163

Summary: It's been eight months since Anna's ex broke up with her in a brutal way. Her concerned sister sets her up on a date, and when she meets Kristoff, it does not go well. Afterward, upon getting an earful from Elsa, Anna realizes her mistake and goes about making things right. What happens between them afterward gives them each a second chance at love and the life they both want to have.

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

“Anna, I am breaking up with you.”

Anna nearly choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken. She stared at her boyfriend with wide eyes, not sure what she had just heard. “What?”

“It’s over.”

Panic began to well in the pit of her stomach. Her hands started to shake as she set the coffee mug back down on the table. “What do you mean?”

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “You heard me. We’re done.”

“Where is this coming from,” she pleaded, getting up and walking over to where he was standing in the kitchen. He’d just gotten back from his run. When he left the house, it was as if nothing was any different. And now he was telling her that they were done?

He rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Anna. We haven’t had sex in weeks. And when we do, you’re so…” he moved his hands around like he was fishing for the word, “…uninspired. I mean, you don’t even give good blow jobs.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. She had thought the problems they were facing were just a bit of a slump. Just the day before she’d gone out and bought some sexy lingerie to surprise him with after the romantic dinner they had planned for that weekend. Was that not happening now?

“Oh, and just so you know,” he said casually as he turned away, “I’ve started seeing other women. So I can get… you know… taken care of. You don’t even know how to kiss properly.”

Anna felt sick to her stomach, watching helplessly after him as he walked towards their bedroom to take a shower. Despite having said some mean things to her from time to time, what he had just said was downright cruel, and she felt ashamed of herself. She felt stupid and pathetic.

Wiping her eyes, she went back to the table and sat down slowly, staring into her morning coffee that she’d actually been enjoying only a moment ago, trying to figure out in her mind what had just happened. The long and short of it? She didn’t please him and he’d been seeing other women.

How had she not known this? She had thought everything was just… normal. He had never been a very enthusiastic lover, and he always met his end while Anna had to often take care of herself, and now she had to wonder if it was because she was just that bad at pleasing a man?

He'd been her first serious boyfriend. Her first real love. The first guy she’d ever moved out with. And now all that was coming crashing down around her. Three years of her life, gone, just like that.

Anna buried her head into her hands and sobbed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“This is a nice place, Anna.”

Anna didn’t respond, she just let her sister in without a word. The apartment had been his, of course she had to move out when he dumped her.

Her sister turned around at Anna’s silence. “You know I hate that man for what he did to you.”

“I know,” Anna said through a sigh. “I hate him too.” She told Elsa that he had cheated on her but she did not tell her sister the awful things that her ex had said to her. And they hadn’t ended in the kitchen that day. She had begged and pleaded with him for hours afterwards and was met with yet more harsh comments on what an awful woman she was.

Anna led them into the living room and poured them each a glass of red wine from the bottle that was sitting on the coffee table. She watched her sister as her eyes went around, taking in the small apartment before settling onto her gaze.

“So, have you been on any dates?”

“Elsa…” Anna sighed with frustration. “Why won’t you drop it?”

“Anna, it’s been what? Eight months? You need to move on.”

Anna was silent and looked down into her wine. She knew she needed to move on, but how could she do that? Apparently, she had nothing to offer a man. What possible hope did she have of making something work.

Elsa set her wine glass down on the table and turned towards her on the couch. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to get out here sooner. Work has been incredibly demanding, only now that I see you, I feel like that is a pathetic excuse.”

She frowned. Did she really look that bad? “It’s okay, Elsa. I know how important your job is. And you still call me almost every night.”

“I do, which is probably why you’re tired of telling me you need to get back out there. You have to see that it’s time to live your life again, don’t you?”

Anna did know that. And she wanted to, desperately. But what man would want her? She’d been hit on a few times only to brush the guy off knowing that she would end up disappointing him in the end. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t think she’d be able to stomach going through that again.

“Listen, Anna. I have a friend who’s fairly new to our firm who happens to have moved from here. She has a brother, and she says-”

Anna’s eyes went wide. “No way, Elsa. I am absolutely not about to be set up right now.”

“Please, Anna.” Elsa reached out and grabbed her free hand. “For me? Please? You can’t be afraid to start dating again.”

She pulled her hand away from her sisters and set the wine down on the coffee table as she got up. “No. Absolutely not.”

Elsa followed her as she walked into the kitchen. “Give me one good reason why you won’t?” her sister demanded.

Anna pursed her lips. She would never breathe a word of what her ex had said to her to another living soul, and that was giving her little option for an excuse. “I… don’t want to.”

Her sister put her hands on her hips. “It’s just one date. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe what you need is a night of hot sex to get back on the horse.”

Her face lit up with heat. “What the fuck, Elsa? I do not need to hear that coming from my sister.” Not only that, she did not need a reminder of how awful she was in bed. It was a constant source of shame that hung over her head.

Elsa gave her a gentle smile. “Sorry. I was just trying to make a point. You have to stop keeping yourself from things that make you happy. You haven’t even gone to the gym or hung out with your friends since you left your ex.”

“He dumped me, but yeah, I know I haven’t.”

“You need to start living again.”

Anna heaved a deep sigh. Perhaps it was time. She’d certainly seen plenty of men who she thought were attractive. Enough that she’d pleasured herself to the thoughts of being with a man again. That at least she knew she wasn’t bad at. In fact, she was practically an expert at getting herself off now.

“Can I tell my friend yes?”

Anna looked to her sister’s pleading eyes. “Fine. One date.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The bar was packed, making it hard for Anna to pick out the man that she was supposed to meet. She’d been given a general description. Tall guy, big build, blond… Anna had formed many mental pictures in her mind of what he might actually look like.

She was told that he’d be somewhere in the bar waiting for her, and every blond Anna looked at seemed to already be on a date or clearly out with a group of friends. The guy Anna was looking for was supposed to be alone.

She muscled her way to the bar where groups of people were gathered around the stools and talking, waiting on drinks. Then she spotted a blond man sitting at the end, surrounded by women. The guy was absolutely huge; his t-shirt stretched tight over his biceps and chest. And he was gorgeous. His rugged handsomeness was undeniable. That was why there were women all over him.

Thinking that couldn’t be her date, Anna went to turn away, when his eyes caught hers and widened with something like recognition.

“Hey, are you Anna?” he called to her over the music and loud conversations

She nodded, not wanting to shout back to him, and he got up from his stool and approached her. Every single woman he was surrounded by watched all of his movements with lusty interest.

His imposing height loomed over her. “I’m Kristoff,” he said, sticking out his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Anna responded, shaking it and thinking it wasn’t nice at all. Not after he’d been hanging out with all those stunning women while waiting for her to show up for their date. What the hell? Who does that?

“They’re super busy and wouldn’t let me grab a table until you showed up,” he said.

He already sounded bored. What the hell had Anna gotten herself into. “Okay.”

Kristoff shrugged and took off to find a table. Anna followed, kind of hoping they wouldn’t find one. The guy was clearly someone who could get whoever he wanted and probably often did.

Towards the back of the bar near the bathrooms, he spied an open table and made a b-line to it. Anna sat on the stool across from him and put her purse on the edge of the high table.

He smiled. “It’s quieter over here too.”

There was nothing but cool confidence behind that smile and Anna squirmed again thinking of how many gorgeous women had been salivating over him moments before. “You sure didn’t waste your time talking to the other ladies, I see.”

He frowned. “They were talking to me. I wasn’t talking to them.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Sure. A guy like you must just hate it when women hang all over him.”

His unhappy face turned into a scowl. “What are you saying?”

“Look, I agreed to go on this date, but not with a player, okay?”

Kristoff became emotionless. “Have me pegged, do you?” he asked evenly.

Anna could only shrug. “It’s not that hard to figure out. The reason a guy who looks like you is single, is that he wants to stay single.”

He stared at her, expression impossible to read.

“Lets just save us both time. I refuse to be a conquest, so you can just go back to all those ladies at the bar who can barely keep it in their pants.” Anna got up, keeping her eyes off his unreadable face, feeling relieved. She didn’t even want to go on this date in the first place. She was almost glad that this guy, as hot as he was, wasn’t going to work out.

Anna spared him a glance as she turned away and was a little shocked to see profound sadness in his eyes. It was almost enough for her to turn back around and say something.

Almost.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anna looked at her ringing phone. It was Elsa. She let out a long sigh and answered. “Hello?”

“What the fuck, Anna? Why the hell did you brush off that date last night?”

She groaned inwardly. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. “He wasn’t my type.”

“Bullshit! My friend talked to her brother and he told her what you said to him. That was pretty awful, Anna.”

She frowned. Had it been? She was only speaking the truth. “Well… you didn’t tell me the guy was a total player.”

Elsa huffed with frustration. “He’s not! He hasn’t been on a date in a year!”

“Elsa, he had women, and I mean gorgeous women, all over him when I arrived at the bar.”

“And he was what? Flirting with them?”

Anna thought back to the scene at the bar. One of the women had her hand on his arm and was talking his ear off, another one giving him fuck me eyes from his other side, two behind him waiting for their turn, and he was… sitting there. He was staring at something. Or was it nothing. Then he’d looked over and his eyes had widened… they kind of looked a little… well at the time it looked like recognition but thinking back, they seemed a little more… relieved?

Anna gasped. “Oh no, what have I done?”

Her sister sighed. “Anna, you might need to talk to someone. I don’t know what Hans did to you, but it was something. I have doubts that he was never abusive to you even though you assured me that he never was.”

“He said some mean things, Elsa. That’s all.” Anna would give her that much, no more. Not ever. No one would ever know of her humiliation.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat. “So maybe you said some things you didn’t mean to a nice guy because you are still so scared of putting yourself out there?”

Anna’s stomach rolled with unease to think about the hurtful way she’d brushed Kristoff off. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Well, at least you can recognise that.”

“Elsa, I feel terrible. Is there any way I can get his number? To apologise?”

“Well…I can ask my friend, although I have to warn you, she was pretty pissed that you treated her brother that way.”

“Please try, Elsa. I feel awful and I need to tell him that I am sorry.”

“Alright. I’ll call you back in five, okay?”

“Okay.” Anna hung up the phone and rung it in her hands. She could not believe she’d been so mean to someone and tears sprung in her eyes. It made her feel terrible to think she’d said something hurtful to someone. It reminded her of what her ex had said to her, and that Kristoff guy did not deserve that, even if he was a player.

Her phone rang in her hands and startled her to the point she almost threw it across the room. “Hello?”

“Okay, I got the number.”

“Oh, thank you, Elsa. Thank you so much.” She sniffed. “And tell your friend-”

“Anna, are you crying?”

She nodded and started to sob. “I feel so bad, Elsa. I was so mean to that poor man. Please tell your friend to tell her brother that I am so sorry and that he can expect me to contact him to say so that I can apologize and-”

“Anna… Anna!”

She sniffed and reigned in her emotions. This was insane. She needed to get a grip on herself. For all those months she carried all that hurt when her ex broke up with her and it was all starting to come out after treating someone else poorly. It was becoming a little clearer to her that there were some issues she was going to have to deal with, and soon.

“Anna?”

Sniff. “Yeah?”

“You need to stop beating yourself up about this, okay?”

“What if he doesn’t accept my apology?” Anna asked, wiping her damp cheeks.

“Well, then I guess you just have to live with it.”

She shoulders slumped, suddenly exhausted. “Yeah. I guess I made the bed I have to lie in it.”

Her sister was silent on the other end for a moment. “Whatever happens, Anna… it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. You’ll have plenty of other chances.”

Anna nodded to herself, steeling her emotions for the text she was about to send. “I know. Thank you, Elsa.”

*****

Kristoff looked at the text from the number that he did not know, and set the phone down in contemplation.

He knew it was coming. His sister had called him and given him the heads up she’d passed his number along to the woman who was so rude to him last night. To say he was conflicted was an understatement.

He hadn’t been hurt like that in a while. Which was weird because he didn’t know this woman. It was just that she passed him off so easily that it made him second guess himself a bit. In retrospect, he should have been ruder to the women vying for his attention at the bar. Why couldn’t this Anna understand that he had absolutely zero interest in them. Instead, she’d taken one look at him and decided he was one of those pigs that used women as conquests. And that fucking hurt.

That was why he’d agreed to be set up. Trying to meet someone on line or even in a club brought out all the wrong kinds of women for him. He had yet to meet someone that was looking for something serious, not just some fun fling or one night stand.

He sighed, and read the message again.

Hi Kristoff, this is Anna, the woman who was rude to you last night and who you wish you probably never met. I need to say that I am sorry for how I acted and what I said to you. Clearly! I have issues to deal with. I would hope you have it in your heart to meet me quickly so that I may apologize in person. If you wish to never talk to me again though, I completely understand. If I don’t hear back from you in a couple of days, I will assume I have my answer and delete your number. I am sorry.

It read like an email, and quite frankly a little bit of a cry for help. He certainly had his own issues, and he could not deny that her acknowledging her own had softened his attitude towards how she had treated him. It wasn’t like he was exactly innocent of never behaving poorly when he was dealing with things. When his sister had let him know to expect her to contact him, he just shrugged and assumed he’d delete the message and move on. Only having read it and its sincerity…

He started typing.

Hi Anna. Thank you for reaching out. Please don’t be too hard on yourself. If you would like to talk, we could meet for a coffee?

He read it three times and hit send before he changed his mind. He’d just set his phone down when it dinged.

He chuckled. “That was fast.”

Thank you so much Kristoff! Would tomorrow work? I could meet you at 11 at that coffee shop that’s just on the corner of 10th and Elm?

He typed back;

Sure. See you then

Anna immediately hearted his message and he set his phone down. He’d been watching the game on TV and he turned his attention back to it, only in the back of his mind he had other thoughts about how seeing this woman again was going to go.

---

Next Chapter

#cee wrote this mess #second chances #kristoff #anna #kristanna #kristanna modern au #listen this is p with a little bit of p #if you know what I mean #it is incredibly and unapologetically self-indulgent #and I'm not even sure what it is I just wanted to write something DIRTY #so it starts out angsty and then gets all fluffy and smutty #I've completed 8 chapters with the plan to leave it open ended so that I can update the smut when the mood strikes

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