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matts-k1tten · 20 hours

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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞

Pairing: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 & 𝐘/𝐧 𝐘/𝐥/𝐧

summary: The triplets and y/n are dangerous people who commit various heinous crimes. They complete all kinds of missions together, all of them playing a different role in it. Matt and y/n do all the work together being because they have fallen in love with each other because of the crimes they committed together. But one day they find a different kind of assignment that is very dangerous and takes a long time to complete but leads to a great life for all of them. Will they complete the mission?

warnings: foul language, kissing, mentions of murder, fluff. There’s not much but lmk if i missed anything.

a/n: I need to stop making new series before I can finish the other 3-4 series I already started. but i swear this time this one really won’t let you guys down! There is going to be more interesting parts this first part is just for background of the story so please stay tuned.

not proofread

ミ★

✫彡

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

“Two weeks.” Nick states as he slams a huge folder on the table. “This shit starts in two weeks.” Chris comes in the room with a pepsi in his hand. “Shit.” Matt whispers and lowers his head towards the table, his hands on either side of him on the table. He lifts his head and looks at me. “We’re gonna need more equipment and training for this one.” Matt walks towards me and sneaks one of his arms around me and places his hand on my lower back. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve been doing this shit since high school.” I smile as I throw my arms over Matt’s neck. Matt laughs lowly as he pulls me into a kiss. Nick and Chris make a gagging noise as Nick bangs the table. “Get a room you two.” Chris cringes while shaking his head and taking a sip of his pepsi.

Nick shakes his head as Matt pulls away. “Two weeks! Prepare! All of us!” Nick yells and pushes the folder towards us to read through. “I barely need to prepare, my role is the get away driver.” Chris laughs and takes another sip. Matt reads through the folder and laughs when he examines one part of the folder. “Ha! Looks like we don’t even need a driver this mission, you actually need to help this time!” Matt laughs and hands Chris his role in the mission. “Ah shit.” Chris sighs. I grab a packet that explains the mission and fold through it. “This mission requires all of us, we all need to train.” I say. “Looks like you have to train with us for the next two weeks!” Matt laughs in his face. Chris smiles and hands the paper back to Matt. “Yeah, yeah whatever.”

The triplets and I have gotten ourselves into bad situations when we were only 15. We became criminals, murderers, thieves. We dropped out of school and fled Boston, leaving everything behind in the process. We fled all the way to California, where we continued our heinous crimes. With Nick the manager who researches and gives us our missions, Chris usually the get away driver, and Matt and I the ones who do the crimes. We get it done fast. Chris rarely participates in the missions but mostly is the driver. Our missions are mostly stealing, murder, robbery, y’know the usual. But this mission…..this mission was different.

This mission has various objectives which needed skill, brains, slickness, and good equipment. It would also take a long time to complete, like a long time. As we read through the folders and the victims and objectives in the folder, something catches my eye. Matt and Chris were looking at the same paper as I pull out a separate file titled ‘Potential Dangers’. I flip through the file that had many warnings about the mission and potential dangers that could lead to failure. “Holy shit we get to go undercover! Awesome!” Chris yells as Nick and Matt laugh. “Guys look at this.” I speak and tap Matt’s arm and hand him the file. Matt takes it and reads through it with Nick and Chris.

“Holy shit” Chris whispers and takes the paper from Matt to read for himself. “Right, I forgot about that part.” Nick says and laughs nervously. I furrow my eyebrows and look at Nick. “What do you mean you ‘forgot’? Nick, there’s potential dangers that could lead to failure like look at this one!” I snatch the paper from Chris. “Dangerous people, killers, traps, tricks, etc.!” I read one of the potential dangers listed. “Do you know what this means?! We could get seriously hurt or even die Nick!” I shout again while shaking the paper in his face. “Woah Calm down baby.” Matt whispers and pulls me back a bit. “I’m sorry! It slipped my mind but this mission has a great outcome for us! We could live a great life together all of us! W-we could buy a house, start a business, whatever we want! We’re experienced, we know what we’re doing! We just need to train more trust me!” Nick says and holds my hands in his.

“It’s everything we’ve always wanted ever since freshmen year.” He whispers. I calm down a bit and breathe out. “We have to be careful Nick, we can’t just play with our lives like we’re in a game.” I whisper. Nick shakes his head. “Trust me y/n, we’ll be alright.” Nick whispers back. I smile as Nick pulls me into a hug. I squeeze him back then pull away after a moment. “Now can you explain this assignment?” Chris asks from behind Nick.

“Yeah hold on.” Nick says and grabs the main packet from the folder. He clears his throat before beginning. “This mission is a very important one and it is required that you have very good skills and strength, warning blah, blah, blah-“ Nick flips through the papers to get to the main page as Matt pulls me next to him by my waist, leaving his hand there. “There are multiple missions in this assignment such as going undercover, robbery, and murder if needed. The main goal of this assignment is to work for Mr. Moraunt while hiding our identity and stealing his fortune slowly.” Nick pauses and looks at us. He continues once we don’t say anything. “There is going to be many obstacles during this assignment in order for this task to succeed and for us to get what we need.” Nick finishes.

“So we’re basically supposed to steal a random man’s fortune while doing extra tasks?” Matt asks. Nick shakes his head. “Kinda but not at the same time.” Nick replies. “Elaborate” I say. “In order to take Mr. Moraunt’s fortune we have to work for him but Mr. Moraunt isn’t a normal man. He’s dangerous, he’s the leader to a mafia gang that has been going on for decades so stealing his fortune won’t be an easy task.” Nick says.

Chris nods, taking in the information. “How old is Mr. Moraunt anyway?” Chris asks. “84.” Nick replies. “Holy shit.” Matt whispers. “I’ve been waiting for years to finally do this assignment, he’s sick and will pass soon.” Nick breathes in. “Mr. Moraunt has no family and no one to pass him fortune to, so that’s why he is our new target.” Nick finishes. “How much is his fortune?” I question. Nick breathes out a laugh. “Millions even billions.” Nick replies. My shocked face is all Nick needs to see. “I told you, it’s been going on for decades, he started it all.” Nick speaks. Chris laughs and cheers. “Fuck yeah! We’re gonna be rich!” Chris cheers again.

“Yeah…but it’s going to take a long time.” Nick looks over to Chris who abruptly stops cheering. “Like how long?” Chris asks. Nick takes a deep breath in and shakes his head. “A year and if we’re lucky several months.” Nick replies. “Fuck.” Chris whispers. “But we also can’t get too excited yet, our success is a 50-50 chance we could still fail and get no money and possibly get our asses kicked.” Nick implies.

Matt sighs and lays his head on mine. Nick turns around to place the packet back in the folder and clean the rest of the papers up. “So we’re gonna need fake names-“ Nick turns to us again. “Y/n your new name is going to be June Walker, Matt yours is Sawyer Walker, Chris is Brody Walker, and I’m Vincent Walker.” Nick says and turns back to the folder and grabs something out of it. He turns back and passes each of us cards with our pictures and fake identities on them. I read the fake information about June Walker that was so convincing. Like my name ‘June Holly Walker’ DOB: 05/28/03. “June and Sawyer are married so act like it, well you already do.” Nick laughs.

“Wow how did you make these?” Chris asks. “It wasn’t easy.”Nick replies. “Engrave all the informations about your fake identity into your minds we’re gonna need it.” Nick speaks as he takes the cards back and places them all into the folder. “Training first thing in the morning! We’re gonna learn more about the medical field, more fighting techniques, lock picking, distractions, and whatever we need! I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning so get some sleep you’re gonna need it!” Nick shouts at us and closes the folder. “You’re all dismissed.” Nick says and walks off to his room. Chris also walks to his room as Matt and I also walk off to our shared room.

I shut the door behind us and Matt immediately attacks my neck. “M-matt-“ I gasp out. His hands grip my hips as he pulls me closer. His soft lips danced against my throat as his breath fans against my neck as he marks me. “You looked so fucking good.” Matt mutters in my neck. “Couldn’t wait” Matt groans and trails his lips up to mine. We meet into a heated kiss as my hands meet the back of his head, my fingers tangling into his hair. The sound of our saliva swapping and our whines filled the room as Matt walks me to the bed. Matt pushes me onto the bed and crawls on top of me and leans back in. I pull away and Matt gives me a confused look. “What?” He asks. I sigh and stare into his eyes. He blinks at me, waiting for an answer. “I’m just thinking about this next assignment, I mean it’s dangerous!” I say as I push Matt off me and sit up. Matt sits beside me and shakes his head.

“Baby we’ve been doing this since we were 15! Plus we’re going to train and learn more for the next two weeks!” Matt replies and rubs my back. I turn to him and stare at him but sigh and turn away and lean my head on his shoulder. “We can do this! We built this place when we were 17 and had so many successful assignments since! We have a solid foundation, we’re smart, and we know that we can make it happen. We’re a team!” Matt speaks and holds me while swaying us side to side. “We’re lucky that you and Chris knew how to turn on the water and electricity or else we’d be stuck in the dark and mildly dehydrated.” I say as Matt laughs. “Yeah it was fun building this place.” Matt responds. I smile, thinking of all the good memories of our journey.

“Matt?” “Yeah?” He replies. I take my head off his shoulder and look at him. “Do you remember when we first came here after we finished building our house, you confessed your love for me during an assignment when we were in a vent?” I giggle as Matt smiles at me and shakes his head. “Yeah, we were 18 and I was so madly in love with you.” Matt laughs and turns to look at me. “And I still am.” He finishes and stares into my eyes. I smile brightly at him and give him a peck on his lips. Matt smiles at me. “Look at us Matt, We’re 20 years old now.” I whisper. He nods as his eyes flicker up and down. “Do you ever…think about how life could’ve been if we didn’t leave Boston?” I ask out of the blue. Matt nods again and sighs. I blink at him. “All the time.” He mumbles. I take a deep breath in and stand up. “Let’s get ready for bed c’mon!” I say and pull Matt up. Matt towers over me and smiles sweetly down at me.

Matt and I brush our teeth and change and hop into bed. “I love you, Matt.” I whisper as Matt holds me to his chest. “I love you more than the stars baby.” Matt replies and kisses my forehead. I feel my eyes get heavy and I start to get drowsy. I feel my eyes shut and drift off to sleep, embraced in Matt’s comfortable scent.

— 𒅌𒋨

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mirrorhouse · 4 days

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idk how to word this in a way that makes sense to anyone but me. something about zane being the dreamer and the dream and not realising how much of himself he has reshaped and changed and erased and not knowing if he can even exist outside of the dream again

#i think it'd be funny if he thinks he's smart + in control + understands what's going on but really he's just as lost as alan in the spiral #in his own way in his own kind of spiral #he wrote himself out of existence and became nothing but a story and character.... a piece of fiction that can be altered #but still real at the same time maybe??? part of two worlds in a different way #★

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dbphantom · 10 months

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near doodles

playing with names... wildfire frenzy sounds [chris sabat vegeta voice] Mondo Cool. all criticisms have been preemptively denied its my story i think it sounds sick af

the gang did not expect to see a walking corpse today. unfortunately for them...

#why is echo in clocktower arc???#... crude oil flammable... ........ ok hes my fave character #also because him and the villain are two sides of the same coin but that's yknow whatever IT BURNS #Echo was part of the og 4 merpeople in that one story i had that 'became' Veneer so he gets special treatment okay ;-;#... no i still can't draw profile shots... not my problem anymore tho i already did the drawing now u have to deal.#i tried a different way of drawing his hair i think i like this version better bc it's less effort but still gets the shapes across #open to [con]crit on that tho #Leonardo James Bingham #Sarah DiAngelo #Chase Allen #Patty Lupine #veneer #julian diggory

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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months

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The Sun Eats the Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills the Moon

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name.

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place.

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now.

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client.

"Is everything alright?"

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke.

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired."

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited.

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics.

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention.

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice.

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps.

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face.

Nothing.

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next.

"I look forward to working with all of you."

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial.

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order.

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way.

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too.

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you.

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?"

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks."

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours.

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms.

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching.

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru.

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch.

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines.

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted.

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class.

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it.

"What?" Because you must have misheard him.

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official."

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours.

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop.

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine.

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore.

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

𖤓

It was something minuscule.

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always.

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey.

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her.

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out."

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life."

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger.

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru.

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help.

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that.

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break.

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing.

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator.

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!"

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle.

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you.

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him.

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that.

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him.

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back.

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down.

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it.

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares.

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything.

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend.

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg.

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open.

It's worse than anything you could think of.

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you?

This wasn't bullying.

This was abuse.

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired.

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

"Why?"

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group.

"Get lost."

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone.

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored.

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-"

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away.

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?"

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear.

"Anything, right?"

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek.

"Get on your knees."

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little.

"I-I-Gojo you-"

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?"

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru.

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk.

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him.

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh.

"Gojo I-"

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems."

You look down at the grass. Green, soft.

"Satoru."

His eyes flash in satisfaction.

"Open up, pretty girl."

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you.

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought.

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?"

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame.

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you.

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth.

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me."

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world.

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?"

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it.

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help.

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath.

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you."

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum.

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something."

You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him.

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair.

"My laptop...it's broken."

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it.

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you.

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his.

The sunset is pretty today.

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied.

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from.

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?"

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf.

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait."

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts.

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her.

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright.

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting."

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs.

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way.

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to.

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go.

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you.

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable.

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework.

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips.

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever.

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom.

"Thank-"

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me."

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself.

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too.

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him.

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons.

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?"

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment.

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken.

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours.

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now.

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action.

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone.

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can.

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch.

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you."

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock-

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing.

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you.

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?"

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again.

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust.

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper.

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl."

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar.

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious.

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him."

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock.

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch.

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need.

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt.

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration.

"I love you."

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh.

Fuck three weeks.

You needed to get out, now.

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there.

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours.

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out.

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there.

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room.

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction.

"You're off the clock, Fimo," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?"

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke.

The door shuts with a click.

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward.

You take one back. He puts his hands up.

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?"

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood.

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody.

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too.

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes.

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules."

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked.

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent.

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless.

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text."

His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake.

You go to move.

Satoru's faster.

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment.

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze.

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness.

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-"

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt.

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client.

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him.

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless.

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears.

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar."

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words.

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses.

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now."

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again.

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic.

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily.

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?"

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too.

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall.

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action.

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar.

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate.

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate.

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste.

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits.

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed.

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out.

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear.

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?"

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that.

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you."

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his.

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure.

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom.

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught.

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl."

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-"

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-"

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled.

"I'll make sure it takes this time too."

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea.

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb.

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine.

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness.

"I love you."

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran.

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me."

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given.

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation.

#yandere jjk #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark content #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru #reader insert #afab reader #bullying #harassment #forced relationship #tw: dubcon #tw:noncon

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 26 days

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✨Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal✨

IT IS DONE HOLY SHIT! Yeah, I had to change this fic 3 different times, I'm really sorry this one took so long. Hopefully you all like this one and thank you for your patience <3

Consider this a reward for kicking Vox's ass in this poll and declaring our short king the ACTUAL hottest character in Hazbin Hotel lmao

Edit: This is now going to be a multi-chapter story! Look forward to more! Thank you all for the support 💖

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer takes you dress shopping for a special night out, but for some reason he's been acting a little strange lately...

Warnings: 18+, smut, public teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v

Lucifer excitedly told you that he wanted to take you dress shopping today. It wasn't out of the norm for you two to go out on the town and indulge on some sort of spending spree together. Plus Lucifer absolutely loved buying things for you; whether it be precious jewelry, beautiful flowers, or brand-new clothes. But you had to admit it's been a while since you've gone out, what with Lucifer spending a majority of time at the hotel assisting his daughter Charlie. You were so happy that they were able to rekindle their bond after so many years of being apart. You were more than happy to help with the hotel as well! You found ways to help Charlie with whatever she needed, which somehow ended up being more than you initially thought. It was exhausting to say the least, but you enjoyed it nonetheless! You were very much looking forward to going out today with your beloved king. And of course he was taking you to one of the most esteemed shops in all of Hell, Vivacious by Velvette. He truly spared no expense when it came to you.

But for some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was…off about Lucifer today.

He didn't seem upset or angry or anything of the sort. More like, he was scared? Or perhaps nervous about something? You couldn't think of anything that could be making him feel this way. The hotel was doing great, Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship was better than it’s ever been, and you and Lucifer have been nothing but enamored with each other. You were just clothes shopping after all. You two had been dating for some time now; you remembered how Lucifer used to be all kinds of flustered during your first few outings. You thought it was adorable the way he stumbled over his words when he brought up the newest duck he had added to his collection or when he complimented every single outfit you’ve ever worn. He still did those things, of course, but he slowly became more and more comfortable and confident around you. But today was something you’ve never seen before. The wary smiles he’s been giving throughout day, the jitteriness of his movements anytime you approached him, his rapid speech patterns…was he hiding something from you? You intended to get to the bottom of it.

You walked down the streets of Hell with Lucifer by your side, his arm linked with yours. You stepped into the lavish shop, dresses of all kids hung from the racks: ball gowns, sun dresses, cocktail dresses; anything you could think of was there! Lucifer told you to take your time and to pick out as many as you wanted to try on while he waited for you by the dressing room. Despite the plethora of options at your fingertips, you only found yourself intrigued by a handful of dresses. Some with more material than others but you'd thought you'd give them a try regardless; you weren't shy when it came to your body.

You grabbed the three dresses that appealed to you the most and made your way towards the changing rooms. Just as he promised, you saw Lucifer standing at the end of the hall waiting for you. But he didn't seem to notice you at first, his attention was elsewhere. Next to the changing rooms was the most impressive collection of wedding dresses you'd ever seen in Hell and even on Earth, each more breathtaking than the last. You noticed Lucifer staring at the wall of dresses with an almost wishful expression, reaching out to touch one of the dresses' lacy sleeve, gently massaging it between his fingers. You smiled and quietly walked over to join him.

"They're really beautiful, aren't they?," you said, snapping him out of his trance and making him jump a bit. He smiled at you, his hand still holding onto the sleeve.

"Absolutely stunning," he beamed. Although, with the way he was looking at you, it didn't seem like he was referring to the dresses. You felt a small blush creep across your cheeks.

One of the employees walked up to you and directed you to an empty changing room. Lucifer waited outside patiently, smiling at you as you closed the sort behind you. The first dress you wanted to try on was a simple black sheath dress. Once you slipped it on, you reached behind of and attempted to grab the zipper. You can only manage to pull it up so far before it wouldn’t budge anymore, causing you to huff in frustration. Slowly, you opened the door to see Lucifer’s eager face staring back at you.

“I need your help, hon,” you admitted. “I can’t reach the zipper.”

Quickly, Lucifer stood up and followed you into the changing room. You turned your back to him and lifted your hair up and out of the way so the zipper couldn’t catch it. Lucifer placed one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your dress. You heard the zipper moving, but it only took you a second to realize it was moving in the wrong direction. Cheeky bastard, you thought to yourself.

“Up, Lucifer,” you said with a smirk, glancing at him over your shoulder. You heard a light chuckle escape him.

“Sorry, darling,” he apologized almost insincerely, peppering kisses down your neck, “can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Lethargically, he pulled the zipper up to the top, finally letting your hair fall back down. If he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to participate. Because you knew how to win. And just maybe, you could get him to admit to whatever he was keeping from you.

“I wouldn’t start something that you’re not ready to finish, sweet pea,” you threatened with a smug grin.

Before Lucifer could get a word out, you spun around and pushed him gently against the wall, eliciting a small yelp from him. You placed both of your arms on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. His eyes widened, sucking in a breath as he realized how vulnerable he was in this new position he had found himself in. His head and hands became flat against the wall as he looked into your now ravenous eyes.

“My love, p-please,” he began to stammer, “I-I didn’t want to-HNG,” you effectively cut off his meek pleas as your one hand traveled down below his belt. You maneuvered your hand up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. Nonetheless, you felt him start to harden underneath his pants almost instantly. You flashed a devious smile, but he didn’t see it, as he had screwed his eyes shut. Baring his clenched teeth, he tried desperately to hold his breath as to not make any lewd noises. You took that as a challenge, of course.

“So it’s only alright if you get to tease me, is that it, Luci?,” you questioned, leaning your head forward with your lips now pressed against his ear. “Now that doesn’t seem fair at all, does it?”

Lucifer gulped as you continued your teasing ministrations. “I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he looked at you doe-eyed. “P-Please don’t-mmph…don’t do this, not here. I won’t be able to hold back, not today…”

“Oh, I’m counting on that,” you retorted. “You know you’ve been acting out of sorts all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll show you some mercy.”

Lucifer audibly gulped at your words. "It's…it's nothing, angel, I promise, I just-fuck," you pressed your hand in harder against the growing tent in his pants, silencing his response.

"You hesitated just now," you told him. "If that's how you want it to be, so be it. You don't have to tell me. But you're not off the hook, not by a longshot." You pulled away from him, giving him a chance to breathe normally once again. You gave a quick glance to the mirror to finally get a look at the dress you had adorned. It looked nice! But it came off as something you would wear in an office setting; not really your style. You looked back at Lucifer who was instantly frozen in place from your gaze.

"I'm not feeling this one," you remarked, "help me with the zipper?" You turned your back to him once more, feeling his hand tentatively grab the zipper. "You can only touch the dress, understand? I'm off limits."

"M-mhmm," Lucifer agreed. He behaved and only tugged the zipper down halfway until you could reach it yourself.

"Good boy."

You discarded the dress quickly, leaving you in only your lacy black bra and matching black panties. Lucifer forced himself to look away from you, trying to reach for the door handle.

"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.

“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.

“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”

Lucifer could only shake his head.

"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, a pathetic little whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have a few more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"

"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.

You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress; a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You adjusted your bra straps and hid them under the sleeves for the time being. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.

"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.

"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power…but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.

"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.

"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.

Lucifer whimpered and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I…ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.

Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."

A low guttural growl erupted from Lucifer, not of anger, but of pure lust. His obedience hanging by the thinnest of threads as you removed yourself from his lap and stripped yourself of the purple dress. At this point, you couldn’t really care less about the dresses. This was much more entertaining.

The last dress you had grabbed was a form fitting strapless dress decorated entirely in ruby colored sequence with a long slit up the side. You held it against your body in the mirror, but something didn't look quiet right. But then in donned on you, and a devious thought had crossed your mind. You made your way over to Lucifer once more, noticing his claws were now digging into his thighs.

"Can you hold this for just a moment, dear?," you asked innocently. He looked up at you with his still crimson eyes, outstretching his hand silently. Once he was holding the garment, you reached around the back of your bra and unclasped it, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer's eyes became saucers, bunching up the dress in his hand with a clenched fist. Your soft and tender breasts were mere inches from his touch and yet he found he could only sit there motionless, writhing under each new temptation you threw at him.

"You…you are…" Lucifer began, finding it agonizingly difficult to steady his breathing.

You smiled and tugged the dress back from Lucifer's powerful grip. "The dress wouldn't look right with the bra on, silly! I should have brought one of my strapless ones, but oh well, live and learn!" You giggled to yourself and turned away from the fallen angel who's resolve was deteriorating with each passing moment. And with that final move, you had definitely won the game.

Or did you?

While you were mentally congratulating yourself on your perceived victory, you hadn't noticed that Lucifer had moved from his seated position, picking up every article of your clothing that you used to torment him. All you felt next was something wrap around your waist tightly. Was that…his tail?

"What the-AHH!," you tried to question, only to be pulled backwards through a portal that had been summoned, dropping the red dress in the process. The pale white dressing room vanished from sight and you were left standing in the middle of your bedroom. “Lucifer, why did you-" but you couldn’t finish your question. When you turned around, your lover was on his knees behind you, his demonic horns now on full display. He lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. "Oh, Luci…"

"Please forgive me, I-I'm so sorry, my angel," he cried, "I know I've been acting strange all day and I know that you know I've been keeping something from you. I swear on my immortal life that I will tell you, but I'm begging you…" you kneeled down with him, cupping his face with your hand, "no more teasing. P-please…I-I need you…"

You gave him a loving smile and brought your lips to his. He melted from your touch, grabbing at your hand that held his cheek. "You know I love you, Lucifer," you breathed as you pulled away, "I'm sorry if I took things too far back there, I never want to upset you. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready to do so. I can wait. But first…" You stood from your kneeling position and offered him a hand up. The way his demonic form had taken over from just your teasing had you desperate for him beyond belief. Not that your previous bouts of teasing him hadn't worked you up already. You needed him too. Now.

You laid flat on you back against the soft sheets, beckoning him closer with a curl of your finger. Lucifer finally flashed you a toothy grin and in an instant, snapped his fingers, completely removing all of his clothing. Normally he liked to make a show of his undress, but you were both too far gone to care at this point. His tail swished behind him as he excitedly climbed up to join you in bed. He stared down at your crotch, licking his forked tongue across his lips. Without hesitation, he removed your panties and spread your legs apart, taking in the sight of your completely drenched pussy. He leaned down quickly and began to leave sloppy kisses and nips along your inner thighs before stopping right at your entrance.

You chuckled lightly at his eagerness to please you. "Luci, you know you don't have to do this. Especially not after what I put you through today."

Lucifer, in response, let two of his fingers slide against your folds, earning a hardy moan from you. "Trust me when I say this, darling," his voice was low, dripping with lust, "I will never deny either of us this pleasure." You felt his steamy breath against your womanhood as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. "You may want to hold on, sweetheart."

Without another word, Lucifer ran his snake-like tongue against your cunt like a starved man. You arched your back in pure ecstasy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought you as close to his face as physically possible, digging his claws into your soft thighs and wrapping his tail around your calf. You realized what he had meant with his last statement and reached out to grip his devilish horns. Your grasp forced a moan out of him as he worked his tongue on your sensitive nub, circling it relentlessly. You knew how skilled he was with his mouth, but it never failed to awe you every time he used it. It wasn't long before you felt a different sensation, that of two clawed finger thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

"Lu-Lucifer, fuck, f-feels so good," you whimpered in between your heavy breaths, "right-SHIT… right there, d-don't stop, please don't stop!" Your pleas only fueled Lucifer’s hunger for you and his desire to make you come undone around him. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your knuckles were turning white with the amount of force you were using to hold onto his horns. You let one hand drop to tug at Lucifer's hair, another broken moan escaping him as you did. His fingers curled up into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly as his lips sucked on your clit with reckless abandon. That coil in your stomach was on the verge of snapping. "S-so close…gonna c-cum, fuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!," was the last thing you could utter before your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling yourself pulsate with waves of pleasure. Lucifer helped you ride out your orgasm while lapping up every drop that escaped your body as if it was the nectar of the gods. Once your body finally relaxed, Lucifer removed himself from your thighs, your mess glistening off his chin. He flashed you a wicked grin before using his tongue to clean up the remains of your essence from his face.

The King of Hell crawled up the length of your body until he was hovered directly above you. "I can truly never have enough of you, my queen," he praised. Through your lustful haze, your barely rational mind latched onto what he'd just said. Queen?, you thought, he's never called me that before. Not that you minded in the slightest, you loved it, in fact. Regardless, you clearly weren't in any condition to question his choice of words. Not when you were desperate for his cock to be buried inside you already.

Lucifer caught your lips, his tongue begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. You could still taste a faint amount of yourself on his lips as your tongues met in a fiery display of passion, twisting and fighting against each other as if trying to establish dominance of the other. You pulled his head closer as he devoured you, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His tail refused to recoil as it kept its grip on your lower leg. His hard on pressed against your thigh and you were becoming increasingly impatient. You whimpering against him and bucked your hips up, essentially begging for him to take you completely.

“Please…” was the only word you could force out once you pulled away from his lips. Lucifer smiled, pressing his lips against your ear just as you had done to him earlier.

“Your heart’s desire is my command,” he cooed as you finally felt that familiar pressure between your thighs that you so desperately craved. You felt the head of his cock finally press into your sopping wet cunt, slowing inching himself into you he bottomed out inside of you. You moaned together, now feeling completely whole. Together as one again. Out of nowhere, Lucifer’s wings sprang out behind him once he was fully sheathed inside of you, adding a bright angelic glow to his otherwise hellish appearance.

He was beautiful.

He laughed awkwardly, a hard blush spreading across his face. You reached up and captured his lips once more. He hummed into you, folding his wings around you, completely blocking the outside world. In that perfect moment, the only thing that existed was you and him. After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer finally began to shift his hips, pulling himself out only to thrust right back into you. Slowly at first, relishing every single mewl and whimper you let escape your throat as he rutted into you. But it wasn’t long until his pace quickened, the sound of your slapping skin driving him to the brink. He rested his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your loving gaze. You felt that coil in your stomach begin to clench once more, making it near impossible to form any coherent sentence, the pleasure his cock was providing was overwhelming you in the best way possible. He noticed this and brough his hand between you two and started circling your already overstimulated clit. You were not going to last much longer. And you could tell his composure was falling apart at the seams as well.

"Hng…fuck…me," Lucifer stammered, his breath hitching on every word "close…I'm close, g-gonna…c-ffffuuucckkk!" He resorted to latching his sharp teeth onto your shoulder, causing small patches of blood to flow out as he came, his hot seed painting your walls white. His wings twitched and spasmed when he finished inside you. His orgasm coupled with his hard thrusts and torturing of your sensitive nub pushed you over the edge for a second time, screaming his name as you clenched around his thick cock. Lucifer lapped up the blood he had drawn from you before he collapsed on top of you, his demonic form finally subsiding, as you both tried your best to catch your breath. You both laid there for a minute or two before even thinking about moving again. Besides, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you, it was comforting.

"Remind me to tease you more often," you joked, running your fingers through Lucifer's soft blond hair. He shot his head up and glared at you with a clear 'don't even think about it' look. "I'm kidding! Mostly…" Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully and planted a small peck to your lips. He finally found the strength to pull out of you and roll over onto his side, exhaling heavily.

"That…didn't really go as planned," Lucifer chuckled nervously. Up until now, you had completely forgotten what had even led up to this moment! You guessed you weren't getting a new dress after all, not that you minded, you had more than enough in your closet as it was. "What SHOULD have happened was you were going to pick out a new dress, I was going to take you out on a beautiful romantic candlelit dinner, and then I...I was…" he paused and gulped. "Oh, to hell with it!" He quickly sat up straight and turned to you, using both of his hand to grab onto yours. You sat up as well, your stomach filled with butterflies for a reason you weren't really sure of. "You were right, you know. I was keeping something from you. I am a very bad liar and I'm even worse at keeping secrets. Especially from you. You told me that I didn't have to tell you right now. But that was the problem! I was fighting with every fiber of my being to not tell you immediately! Because I love you with all of my heart and soul and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side and...and..." he exhaled harshly. With a wave of his hand, a small black velvet box appeared. "My love," he opened the box to reveal a ring, "will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my bride?"

You looked down at the precious jewelry before you. A golden snake for the band, with its body wrapped around a beautiful ruby gem in the shape of an apple. Your eyes swelled with tears, you couldn't stop them from flowing down your face. Lucifer panicked and started to wipe them away.

"I-I'm sorry! Please...please don't cry! I didn't mean to-HMPH!" His apologies were cut short when your lips found his. After you pulled away, you laughed, tears refusing to stop. Lucifer's mouth was agape.

"Yes, Lucifer," you bawled, "yes yes yes, a million times yes! Of course I'll marry you, I've never wanted anything more!"

Lucifer sat there in disbelief. But only for a moment before joining you in your crying, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of your sobs echoing throughout the room.

"You've made me the happiest person in all of Hell, my dear," he cried as he peppered kisses all over your face, clearing away more of your tears. "I love you, from now until the end of time. I promise to be the best husband I can possibly be."

"You're already the best person for me, my King," you smiled. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar."

"And I you, Mrs. Morningstar."

~~~~

Congrats on becoming the new Queen(s) of Hell babes 😘

Taglist: @alastor-deer-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #IT'S DONE IT'S FUCKING DONE AHHHHHHHHH #beat my word could by a fucking 1000 words lmaooooo #enjoy!!

1K notes · View notes

itadorey · 4 months

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𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x gn reader summary: rumor has it you're dating gojo satoru genre: fluff, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, humor(?) notes: i just think he's the type of dude to do this, sort of an au bc geto never goes rogue. HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOJO !! wc: ~1.8k

"hey, wanna go get lunch?"

you come to a stop when you hear a low voice, turning around just in time to see gojo approach you. his hair is styled, you note, white strands falling gracefully and framing his face in a way that you haven't seen since the two of you were in high school. his usual blindfold is nowhere to be seen, and your eyebrows furrow slightly when you notice a new pair of sunglasses perched on the slope of his nose.

"what?"

"do you want to join me for lunch?" he asks, leaning against the wall as you glance at the time on your phone. you tuck it back into your pocket before looking at the folder in your hand, turning to glance in the direction of your office before giving gojo a nod.

"sure! just let me drop this off in my office, yeah?" you say, smiling when he nods in agreement. "i'll be quick and on the way back i'll stop and ask shoko if she wants to join us."

you whirl back around to make your way to your office, only to be stopped when gojo clears his throat.

"actually, i meant you," he begins, shoulders tense as he motions to you with his hand before pointing to himself. "and me. just us getting lunch at that cafe you really like."

"oh! okay, yeah that sounds good," you chirp, feeling slightly confused as you give him a little thumbs up. he relaxes at your words, nodding slightly as he watches you. "i'll be right back and than we can head out!"

gojo's eyes never leave your form as you disappear down the walkway, and he takes a few deep breathes before turning around and slipping his phone out of his pocket before sending a text to shoko and suguru.

satoru: they said yes.

lunch at the cafe ends with you and gojo meeting up at the end of the day and getting dinner as well. it isn't until you're out of breath, laughing way too hard over a silly story gojo shares with you, that you realize that the two of you haven't hung out together in a long time.

high school is probably the last time you can recall going out with gojo alone. the difference in your skill levels meant that the two of you didn't really cross paths after graduating, especially with the way that gojo always seemed to be sent out on mission after mission by the higher ups. any and all hangouts were usually coordinated by shoko or suguru, and most of the time gojo wasn't able to have a full conversation with you due to having to take care of a more-than-tipsy suguru.

you can't help but focus on the way your heart seems to ache with longing as you watch gojo laugh along with you, and it's in that moment that you realize that you've missed the teasing, smug boy that you knew well before life became just a little bit more cruel. the way he looks at you after your laughter dies down makes you wonder if he missed you as well.

"here's your check!"

"oh, thank you," you say to the waiter, reaching over to grab the slim book. gojo's hand intercepts your path, snatching the check presents away before you can even attempt to stop him. "hey!"

"dinner's on me," he says with a grin, sliding his card into the clear sleeve before handing it back to the waiter. your eyes remain locked on gojo even as the waiter walks away, a scowl on your face as you stare him down.

"you paid for lunch," you state, your eyes darting down to his lips when they pull up into a slight smirk.

"yeah."

"so dinner was supposed to be on me," you argue, clamping your mouth shut when the waiter returns with gojo's card. he takes it from him with a smile, messily signing the receipt before sliding out of his seat. his lips part into a handsome grin as he holds an arm out to you, eyes sparkling as he waits for you to link your arm with his. you rise from your seat reluctantly, gingerly slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow and letting him lead you outside.

it isn't until he's holding the door open for you, watching as you cross the threshold, that he finally speaks once more, tilting his face down to let you catch a glimpse of the teasing glint in his eye.

"besides, what kind of date would i be if i let you pay?"

gojo seems to become a permanent fixture in your life after your shared lunch and dinner.

you can't find it in yourself to complain about the new development, especially not when you're standing in your kitchen and you feel gojo's hand press against your lower back as he squeezes past you, giving you a soft smile as he tries to steal a bite of whatever you're cooking. those nights usually end with you swatting at him until you push him out of the kitchen, rolling your eyes and ignoring the way your heart lurches when he wraps his arms around you in a loose hug in an attempt to tug you along with him.

hangouts with shoko and suguru also become more common, and the four of you often find yourselves meeting up for drinks or a movie night, sometimes joined by nanami when he deigns to grace you with his presence. it's during these times that your emotions get the best of you, seeing everyone talking and laughing so happily that it almost feels like nothing ever went wrong. like amanai riko and fushiguro toji never happened.

and when gojo notices your sudden quietness and wordlessly wraps an arm around your shoulders to tuck you close to his side, you feel yourself falling just a little bit more for the white-haired sorcerer.

you're not surprised to find out that somewhere along the way, you've fallen for gojo satoru. a part of you believes that it was inevitable; he's always shone so brightly, drawing people in regardless of whether or not they're aware of the fact. you just happen to be the latest victim.

although your heart yearns to be closer to him, you know that you're content with being nothing more than friends. satoru is someone who is easy to admire, and you're all too happy to admire from a distance, content to bask in the tenderness that accompanies every friendly moment you've shared with him thus far. his status as a special grade sorcerer also takes up a large portion his life, and you fear that attempting to be anything more than friends with him would only end in you being a distraction.

but that all changes three months after the dinner with satoru that started it all.

"you're both late."

"sorry about that!" you apologize, giving shoko a sheepish smile as you slide into the seat satoru had pulled out for you. his knee bumps against your thigh as he takes his own seat, and you feel your smile grow a little wider when he leaves it resting against your own.

"what? were the two of you too busy making out in his car or something?" suguru chimes in, stifling a laugh when he sees your eyes go wide. you don't get the chance to respond as the waiter approaches, and you're saved the embarrassment of attempting to stutter out your drink order when satoru butts in and says it for you.

suguru wiggles his eyebrows playfully as you give him a flat look, and your mild annoyance dissipated when you feel satoru take your hand in his as he begins to play with your fingers. easy conversation begins to flow, and before you know it, you're enjoying your favorite drink and teasing suguru for the things he drunkenly did at your last get-together.

"so," shoko begins once there's a lull in the conversation, eyes glinting mischievously as she lets her gaze flit between you and satoru. "now that it's been a couple months i gotta say, i didn't think satoru would ever actually work up the courage to ask you out to lunch."

"what do you mean?" you ask, missing the way satoru's hand freezes against yours.

"i just didn't think he'd actually go through with it," shoko says with a shrug. "but i gotta say, i'm glad the two of you are dating. you both seem a lot happier lately and it's nice to see."

"dating?" you ask, tensing up at her words. the entire table seems to freeze at your question, and you're met with confused expressions from everyone as you glance around the table.

"yeah," shoko answers cautiously, sharing a bewildered look with suguru.

"what?" you ask dumbly, blinking slowly before turning to satoru just in time to see him nodding. "since when."

"since," shoko says, pulling out her phone and scrolling through some messages. she hums when she finds what she's looking for, turning the screen to show you a message from satoru three months back saying "they said yes". "three months ago according to this text."

"what?" you repeat, shaking your head lightly to try and gather your thoughts.

"yeah," satoru says quietly, a soft laugh leaving his lips as he lets go of your hand. "i asked you out on a date."

"no, you didn't," you say in response, turning your body to face him.

"yes, i did," he insists, running a hand through his hair before pointing to shoko's phone. "three months ago. lunch at the cafe, remember?"

"you asked me to eat lunch with you. you never said it was a date!"

"oh, i didn't?" he asks, head tilting slightly to the side as he tries to remember.

"no!"

"oops!"

"what do you mean 'oops!'," you hiss, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms. "this entire time i've been dealing with my feelings for you only to find out that you've been telling people we've been together this entire time!"

"well is it too late to ask you to accept all our hangouts these past few months as dates?" he asks cheekily, grinning at your confession. you huff at his words, softening slightly when he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder. "please?"

"fine," you mutter, squeaking when he leans up to press a kiss to your cheek. the laughs from shoko and suguru remind you that the two of you aren't alone, and you feel your cheeks heat up when the realization that they've witnessed everything hits.

"well," you start, raising your gaze to finally address shoko's original comment about your (new?) relationship. your breath catches in your throat when satoru lifts your joined hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and earning a smug smile from suguru. "i gotta say, i'm also very glad that the two of us are dating."

satoru snorts at your words, and you roll your eyes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around you. his gaze doesn't leave you as he speaks, even though his words are also in response to shoko.

"yeah, i'm definitely happier."

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk imagine #gojo imagine #gojo satoru imagine

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blacknailsandheartbreak · 3 months

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Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko

AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.

SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1

Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)

KIDDIE FREE ZONE

Good Friends

That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.

But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.

As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."

The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.

Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.

Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.

The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.

It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.

#prince zuko #zuko #atla #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #atla fanfic #avatar zuko #grumpy x sunshine #fluff #smut #imagine zuko #imagine #x reader

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viennakarma · 1 month

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My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips.

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head.

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed.

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you.

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party.

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered,

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you.

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #formula one #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #brocedes #Spotify

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Do you like Kakashi's dogs? Let's talk about why there are eight of them.

another example of naruto's ✨cultural code✨

contents | the eight dog warriors chronicles · legacy · eight confucian virtues. also look at the cuties love them sm

Naruto Vol. 10 CH 90

[ one dog is wonderful, I'm saying as the owner of a sweet little york terrier. two dogs are good, they won't be bored together. three dogs? yeah, cool! how are you going to walk them though? four? yes... look, maybe we have to draw the line h- wha- EIGHT? Excuse Me!? ]

surely, it's worth starting with the fact that eight is a lucky number in Japanese culture — everybody watched Hachi. of course, this is not the only cultural detail where the eight is mentioned. I want to pay special attention to a thing that I didn't know about until I googled it, and this is clearly what Kishimoto was doing homage to with Kakashi's eight ninken.

The Eight Dog Warriors Chronicles

Better known as Nansō Satomi Hakkenden. and it's not just some kind of book, it's a novel, consisting of 106 booklets written by Kyokutei Bakin in XIX century. Hakkenden is considered the largest novel in the history of Japanese Literature. this is one of the main representatives of the gesaku genre, which includes works of a frivolous, joking, silly nature. further I will emphasize a few more times how damn popular this work is and how often it is reflected in culture.

here are some illustrations for these books

now let's talk about the plot. It's weird, but it's weird at samurai-dogs-story level so stay here.

In brief, the story tells about the commander Satomi Yoshizane, whose native lands were attacked by the army of a man, whose forces surpassed those of Satomi, and the samurai in despair swore to a dog named Yatsufusa that the dog would get his beloved daughter Fuse as a wife if he chewed that man's throat. surprisingly, the dog not only understood the owner, but also fulfilled his wish! after that the commander refused to keep the promise. however, Fuse, true to her word of honor, went with Yatsufusa to the mountains and became his wife. upon learning that his daughter was pregnant, Satomi, in a rage, sent a samurai to kill Yatsufusa and bring Fuse home. she stood up for the dog anyways and died with him. at that moment, eight pearls with hieroglyphs that denoted the foundations of Confucian virtue burst out of her womb. (...cheers for mythology, I guess)

Soon, eight dog warriors who were Fuse's spiritual children were born in different parts of Awa province. after going through hardships, they got together and became vassals of the Satomi clan, then won the battle, and soon reached peace.

some more illustrations made by Utagawa Kuniyoshi. from left to right: Inukawa Sōsuke (the dog warrior), Inumura Daikaku (the dog warrior), Princess Fuse (their mother).

the novel mainly tells about each individual warrior dog and his shenanigans in a funny adventurous way. huge fame has led to excerpts from Hakkenden being staged at the Kabuki Theater and mentioned in the anime and manga, such as Inuyasha, Dragon Ball, as it turned out, Naruto and so on. there's also a lot of films and video games.

The eight virtues

these are loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, love, honesty, justice, harmony, and peace.

they relate more to Chinese culture, but basically Hakkenden was inspired by it too. since I did not read the whole novel, I would still like to mention at least the values on which it is based, and which were embedded in the symbolism of this story. It's quite interesting to apply this to Kakashi's dogs. gives them more weight and depth.

It is also interesting to note that the reason why Fuse gave birth to dogs was also that her father was cursed earlier in the story in a way that his descendants would become depraved like dogs. in Japanese culture, dogs embody the duality of character: the same mentioned filth and depravity, and devotion and bravery. so as samurai. but this is a different conversation, more related to Kakashi and his dog poetry.

Did you get here? Here's an additional discovery for you✨

Pakkun's name (パックン) is derived from the Japanese onomatopoeia “pakupaku” (パクパク) which reflects the sound of munching.

Kakashi, that's very sweet of you.

thank you for reading this to the end ♡

#kakashi hatake #kakashi #naruto #naruto shippuden #Kakashi's dogs

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spider-stark · 19 days

Text

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

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lord-radish · 2 years

Text

So I just finished DanganRonpa. It was the only thing I was speaking about for a second there.

Honestly? Kind of fell apart at the end. Not entirely, I still had a lot of fun, but I began to fall off with it and the final Class Trial was a bit of a slog.

I'm really glad I didn't steamroll through to the end last night, because I was already beginning to hit a brick wall (and bc I was called in to work 2 hours early the next day, which ended up being like hellishly menial) and the way the game infodumps at the end was really exhausting. I was having trouble staying invested even after giving it a reasonable break.

I really enjoyed the game, and I'll be looking forward to the rest of the games and the anime. Probably gonna spoil the gaiden game for myself rather than play it. But it'll have to be after a long break, because that last trial broke my brain with the amount of exposition it had and how long the entire thing went.

It's a strong 7/10 - liked it a lot, but for how much it stands out, I don't think it's up there in my top 25 games or anything like that.

#DanganRonpa #on one hand I felt like I was picking up on a lot of what the game was putting down and it was exciting to be drawing those conclusions #on the other hand by the last two cases I felt like the game was weirdly easy. like the second to last one seemed super easy #and the last case... was suspenseful and stuff - but I also got a bunch of stuff right way before it became relevant #partially because - spoiler - people turned a vital part of the plot into a meme. or at least blew a certain character out of #proportion in a way that made the end of the game less impactful #the first two cases are really fucking hard to stomach for two different reasons. but they made me really sad #but as the game went on the cases felt more like formalities. I wanted to get to more of the story #(and I wanted everyone to survive which I know is unrealistic)#the game is very stylish and fun #and the style and excess of the game has aged very well #other parts of the game very much HAVEN'T aged all that well. I had to sit down and unpack some shit at one point #and I feel like it was due to a very kitschy and not very tasteful character choice on the part of spike chunsoft #and the ending dragged. like it just did #overall though I really did enjoy danganronpa a boatload. i had a great time. even got pretty good at the rhythm game part #so yeah. strong 7/10. I'll check out school mode but I dont think I can take much more of this one #only just outlasted its welcome. only just

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coralinnii · 7 months

Text

❋ You said what now? ❋

↳ He accidentally found out your feelings

feat: Ruggie ⭑ Chenya ⭑ Lilia ⭑ Epel

genre: fluff (uhh for the most part), humour,

note: no pronouns used with the reader, no explicit spoilers for book 7 in Lilia’s section, reader is referred as human in Lilia’s section, reader is implied to be a first year in Epel’s section, bad cat-related wording in Chenya’s section

Fun fact: while not obvious in the English translation, if you listen to Chenya’s Japanese voice lines, he likes to say “nya” at the end of his sentences.

Will I keep that fact in mind anytime Chenya pops up? Absolutely.

Also, I just started my college classes again last week (which is why I didn’t post last week). All of my classes are dense with text and quizzes so…I need to study real hard which will most likely eat up my time for writing. Good ol’ inconsistent me~

Although, I’m taking History and we focus a bit on the age of nobility and old kingdoms…so maybe some inspiration for my villain/ess!au series (or maybe not cuz history is weirder than one thinks…)

How it happened

Perhaps a little sneaky, Ruggie is someone reliable, resourceful, and fun to be around. You started to fall for him and even that sneaky side of his became endearing to you.

But bigger, financial priorities occupy the hyena beastman’s mind more than anything else. Unless he can make a madol from it or get a freebie, his interest in anything else is seemingly non-existent. It was rather easy to keep your feelings to yourself when the topic of love rarely, if ever, comes up.

So it came to a surprise to you when the shaggy-haired sophomore mentioned his coworkers at a part-time job he picked up in town.

He started ranting about how a duo at his workplace started an unlikely relationship a few days ago. According to him, the two were from two different worlds and didn’t appear to be either of their types.

“Doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” he mumbled, scratching his fluffy head by the sudden revelation at his job.

You nodded and hummed as he recounted his workday with you, but in all honesty, you didn’t share his confusion over the so-called sudden pairing. By the way Ruggie described the couple, it does sound like their personalities wouldn’t mesh well and would theoretically clash too much for anything to bloom between them.

But attraction follows no simple formula. No one can stop themselves from falling for someone. You yourself were an example.

“Love is never predictable, Ruggie.” you commented without thinking, perhaps too distracted by the cute love story of Ruggie’s coworkers or it could be that you’re drowning in the warm feelings from being so close to your crush that your mouth is running too comfortably on its own. “I mean, I never thought you were my type but I still ended up-“

You shut your mouth before you could finish but looking at the wide-eyed expression on Ruggie’s face, the effort was moot.

“You still ended up?”

…Shoot.

What happens now?

Colour him shocked. Ruggie never entertained the idea that you would like him, out of all people.

He could’ve pretended not to figure it out, or convince himself that it was a misunderstanding. But he knew when he saw your flustered embarrassment and your cute stuttering trying to come up with an excuse, there was no misunderstanding. You like him.

Ruggie has a good amount of ego and he wouldn’t downplay his boyish good looks (odds are it got him out of a few close calls), but in a school of celebrities, royalty, and guys with money coming out the wazoo? He knows when he’s outmatched.

To be honest, his brain froze for a moment at your slip up. He clutched his heart which stuttered out of beat, his ears and tail stood in attention like a meerkat. Jack was worried watching his upperclassman in such a daze while folding laundry, heck it even got Leona raising a brow over the uncharacteristic clocked out look on his shorter dormmate.

But, Ruggie is a workaholic hyena. Always planning his way to work up the ladder to earn some good madol. Even if he likes the idea of making a family of his own, romance wasn’t in his peripheral vision at the moment. Not while he’s working multiple jobs at once. He would honestly feel a little bad because he knows he’ll end up ignoring any poor soul stuck with him.

As bad as it is, he might at first think to pretend he heard nothing about your feelings. He couldn’t bring himself to make you go through that, to be in a relationship where work takes precedence over you.

But then he thought it wouldn’t be so bad…snuggling up to you during one of his rare free time. Maybe you’re the type to surprise him with lunch and he could rest on your lap while you brush his hair. Would you maybe rub his sore muscles after an arduous club training session? Having boyfriend privileges means no one can complain when he slides up to your side, keeping your attention to himself without having to share…

Screw it, he’ll figure something out. He’s a greedy hyena through and through

Shyeheehee! Better be ready for what you’re asking for. Once I’ve set my eyes on something, I’m not lettin’ it get away!

How it happened

This man is a literal magic trick, appearing and disappearing to revel in the shock of his unsuspecting audience. As elusive as he is, the times he does show up brings a shock of joy and excitement to you.

It seems that the purple-haired student has made it a habit to join the Heartslabyul’s unbirthday parties from time to time, enjoying the occasional chaos and keeping you company to your conflicted delight.

You didn’t know why but Chenya made it his mission to fluster you every chance he gets, with cheeky comments and sly touches as he leads you away from incoming mishaps such as a stray splash of paint or a flying slice of cake. You don’t know why but the cat-like menace has taken a shine to teasing you out of the blue. Sometimes he would suddenly whisper nonsensical riddles into your ear, or tap your shoulder to then poke your cheek as you turn. Small silly pranks that should annoy you but your body becomes filled with butterflies when he smiles that charming grin at you.

How maddening, you thought as you fell for another sneaky surprise from the impish beastman. Once again, Chenya appeared right behind you, smiling just over your shoulder which gave you and your friends a fright (for different reasons) to which he took pleasure in, judging from the mischievous grin on his lips.

Your shouting caught the attention of the other Heartslabyul students and recognizing the white jacket and castle emblem, their eyes boiled with competitive rage. An RSA student? On Night Raven territory?!

“Ah, looks like fun time is over. I’ll just show meowself out~” and like a mirage, Chenya’s figure disappeared as the NRC students failed to catch even a strand of his fur. Not even when he took a second longer to fade out just so he could teasingly tickle the tip of your nose with his fluffy striped tail.

The students kept on making a fuss, eager to teach the mischief maker a lesson for trespassing on rival territory. You sighed at the wasteful effort, assuming that Chenya would be smart enough to have left long ago.

“Why must my crush be such a frustrating person?” Angry hollers and Riddle’s commanding cease-and-desist orders overwhelmed your tired voice, and your soft words ended up softly carried off into the wind.

But your words caught the interest of a curious ear before it disappeared.

What happens now?

Curiouser and curiouser. He was not expecting such a confession. Though to be fair, he supposed you didn’t mean for anyone to hear it.

Chenya found joy being in your company. The shock in your bright eyes followed by your cute laugh sends a warm, giddy feeling in his heart that he just could not stop. He had a feeling he knew what these feelings could be but he was content with what he could get in the rare moments he can see you.

But now, when he realized what your cute reactions meant? That sends whole new exciting feelings within him. It’s fuzzy and warm as usual, but now also shocking and thrilling. The sneaky beastman is grinning for more than one reason now.

He won’t immediately confess back. Considering this wonderful predicament where you don’t know he knows of your affections, his playful nature compels him to milk the fun of this situation for all its worth.

If you thought his cheeky antics were bad enough, you haven’t seen his flirty side till now. Playful taps on the shoulders become sneaky grabs by the waist, and just when you think he’s gone, his signature grin would grace your vision as he fades into view, a little too close to your own face. Sometimes when he feels emboldened, Chenya would sweep you off your feet for a spontaneous walk along the sweet breeze.

When you’re finally at your wit’s end, when all his teasing and heart-fluttering gestures fills you to the point of combusting in flustered frustration, that’s when he’ll finally tell you his reciprocated feelings, perhaps while stealing a quick kiss when you least suspect it. All to see that terribly adorable look on your pretty face.

Every adventure requires a first step. I’m excited to see where we’ll go together from meow on~

How it happened

See, you thought he already knew. You swore he did. Why else would he tease you so much with his sweet compliments and flirty jokes? The mysterious senior spoke to you as though you were a naive child crushing on their older peer, which you supposed wasn’t entirely wrong.

The way he treated you with so much care and love that you wondered if he already suspected of your feelings and was being considerate to you. He listens to your rambles as though he has all the time in the world for you, compliments you on your achievements as though he’s genuinely proud of your hard work, and he jokes with you with that boyish charm of his. But the scarlet-eyed fae never pursued further with advances with you, which made you think that perhaps this was just who Lilia was, a strange but friendly man, unwilling to hurt your feelings. Were you grasping at straws and misconstruing his intentions?

With a heavy heart, you tried your best to give up your hopes but maintained a cordial bond with Lilia, not wanting to avoid the jovial fae so suddenly (well, without having to explain why anyways)

But one day, when you were walking with the smiling senior, he started talking about a souvenir shirt that Kalim had given him during their club meeting. It was a shirt patterned erratically with various colours and pictures of tiny bats littered about. It was an eccentric visual of fabric but it strangely fits the equally eccentric man.

“What are your thoughts? Would I not look absolutely adorable in this?” Lilia asked, holding the shirt in front in his uniform with a boyish smile, his fangs peeking out slightly. But you rolled your eyes as you sighed exasperated by this man’s antics.

“Don’t you think that’s unfair for you to ask me?” You looked at him with a pout, somewhat irritated at the mature fae you’re trying to get over. “Of course I’d said you would, considering how much I like you”

For a rare moment, Lilia turned wide-eyed at your words. “Pardon? Do you by chance… harbour feelings for me?”

Turns out, he didn’t know at all

What happens now?

Guess you can still surprise this old man. He had his suspicions but for all he knew that was how the youth were these days. He was fond of your shy expressions whenever he was around and he could hear the quickening of your heartbeat, but he didn’t want to assume. Perhaps you were just more on the skittish side.

In the centuries he lived, he saw love in many forms. In the recent centuries he lived, he got to experience some of those forms of love he’s seen, with the pain and joy that comes with it. To him, it couldn’t ask for more as he lives out the last few centuries he has left.

You however, were still vibrant like a freshly bloomed flower in its prime. Was that why he just couldn’t take his eyes off you? He couldn’t help but watch in admiration as you lived with almost enviable vigour. He felt pulled, entranced to be by your side for even just a moment, just to see that beautiful gleam of life (and love, he realized) in your eyes.

But Lilia felt a beat of guilt in his heart. Your life is so short in comparison to his own. You should be sharing your youth with someone as brilliant as yourself, not pining over an old soul like himself. Humans are fickle creatures but he supposed with such short lives, it’s best to be curious and experience all one can without regrets.

He would be honest with you, sharing his thoughts with you as though warning that your affections were better spent with someone that suited you better. It would be up to you to convince the stubborn fae that he was your choice, that you already decided he suited you just fine. All you’re asking from him is if he shared the same feelings as you did.

“I may have tried to get rid of my feelings before, but I’m choosing not to run away this time,” in your eyes, Lilia sees that same vibrant gleam that mesmerized him, almost breathing a new sense of life into him. “All I ask is if you feel the same way”

And he does. He’s lying to himself if he hasn't thought of a life with you where he could steal surprise kisses throughout the day, where he could bring you to soar through the night skies as he takes you to explore the world with him. He imagines a life of silliness but also a life of blissful content as he gazes at you like a beacon of light in his life, a new reason to live a bit longer.

Lilia feels ensnared by love once more, but the burning warmth in his soul is just too invigorating. He’s looking forward to this new chapter in his life, with you.

I do hope you’ve prepared yourself, my dear. Eternal love with a fae should not be taken lightly. But rest assured, I look forward to our new adventure

How it happened

You were Epel’s close friend and confidant, someone who he can share his achievements and woes with. Being so new to the college, the two of you depend on each other through thick or thin and along the way, you grew to see the lavender-haired freshman as more than just a companion.

He has a bit of a temper and is quick to the jump at times, but he was always there for you and even though he doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with them at times, he respects his seniors and takes their lessons to heart.

When he talks about how much he dislikes his height or his feminine features, you nodded along for his sake but you couldn’t tell him that you were actually in disagreement. You adore his fluffy locks that you occasionally got to touch with his permission and his light blue eyes felt like calming waves of the purest lake. Epel constantly swore to you that he’ll have his growth spurt and will even tower Leona in height, but you like how you could hold him close to you without issue.

You love all that he is, even if he’s not too keen on some parts himself

But you kept this all to yourself. You thought Epel had other priorities on his mind and you were scared that confessing would ruin the friendship you’d built with him. For now, you were content to be by his side for however long you can.

You were dead tired during a particularly harsh Flying class with Coach Vargas and you were barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open. It took everything you had to just nod along to whatever Epel was saying, something about some Savanaclaw students?

“Who they think they are, callin’ me cute like that? I outta rip off their yapper for underestimatin’ me.” You weren’t helping his point when you thought how cute his accent was as he grumbled about his day. You were falling in and out of consciousness but thought you should at least reply back to your friend…anything at all…

“I’m sorry…that happened…even though…I think…you’re really cute…”

You were already out cold to notice your friend frozen in place as you finished your drowsy comment, your head landing on his stiff shoulders.

What happens now?

ALDFIUAHLBWAIGLH

Congratulations, you broke your friend and you don’t even remember it. When you woke up, you couldn’t figure out why Epel was as bright red as his hometown’s apples. Epel couldn’t even bring it up without getting too tongue-tied, his accent sputtering out incomprehensible words.

The blue-eyed freshman was raking his brain for an explanation. You thought he was cute…really cute to be precise, but what does that mean? Did you like him? As in like-like him? Is it normal for non-countryside folk to just say something like that? But most students around here tend to mean it like an insult but you weren’t like them, you would never do that to him. So what did you mean by it??

Left without a choice, Epel thought about who he could ask about this, maybe one of his seniors. But he immediately reconsidered when he realized who his seniors were (Vil and Rook will never let this go and there’s no way Leona would entertain this conversation) and turned to the only adult he can trust, his meemaw.

In his letter, he asked his grandma what it means when someone you cherish calls you cute (not mentioning who) and after a few days of fidgeting and awkward encounters with very confused you, he finally got an answer from her.

“STOP SITTIN’ ON YOUR KEISTER TWIDDLIN’ ‘ER THUMBS! GO AND ASK, DAGNABBIT!”

And that’s how you were confronted by a flustered Epel about your cute comment one random school day. To be fair, you probably didn’t fare any better when you realized you let your thoughts slip out.

You may have confessed your attraction to him but Epel can still be the first to make the first move. Relationships and dating are all new to the petite freshman and honestly he felt a little weak in the knees, all the nerves wracking his body like his first broom ride. But the past few days, he couldn’t stop thinking about being with you, sweeping you off your feet, impressing you the only way he can, to have your eyes solely on him like he does when you’re around. Heck, he thought what it’d be like to grow old with you, holding you like no one else can as you spend day and night by each other’s side. All these thoughts and more is what spur him to take the next step.

I ain’t too great on love and romance, but I’ll work hard to show ya how much ya mean to me. I promise that!

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j4gm · 7 months

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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS

The finale!

Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.

Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.

This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.

I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.

There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.

This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.

The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.

It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.

The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.

Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.

The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.

I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.

Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.

Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.

This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)

Some kind of Jake universe.

A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.

The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.

This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.

Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.

She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.

Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.

There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.

Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.

Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.

In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.

And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

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kitscutie · 10 months

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august (conrad fisher x reader)

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗂ꜱ𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀ꜱ: ᖯ𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗄𝗂ꜱꜱ𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖺𝖽 ᖯ𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒, ꜱ𝖾𝗑𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽

𝗉.ꜱ: 𝗂'𝗆 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽 ꜱ𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇ꜱ𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 ᖯ𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂ꜱ 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 - 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗒𝗅𝖺𝗇, 𝗂𝗍'ꜱ 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗃𝗎ꜱ𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗍 ᖯ𝗎𝗍 ꜱ𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾𝖽!

ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 ᖯ𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 ꜱ𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄-𝗎𝗉ꜱ 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺ꜱ𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋ꜱ, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒ꜱ, 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 ᖯ𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒 ꜱ𝗁𝗈𝗐ꜱ 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ᖯ𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽.

a/n: been wanting to write this for a while so BOOM here it is, sooo excited for season two, also im in a deep dylan obrien depression i need help :p ALSO sorry like all my fics are in different styles at the start i'm experimenting atm!

You and Conrad Fisher had known each other since you had popped out of the womb nineteen years ago in the same hospital, only a floor and two hours keeping you apart.

Your moms had been friends since rooming at college and so your friendship, some might say, had been written in the stars quite literally. Fate.

Things had started to change on your sixteenth birthday. It was just before the annual summer reunion, and of course, you and your mom had gone down just one week earlier in order to have a joint birthday celebration with the Fishers and stayed until the Conklin's arrived.

You had hit puberty and he hadn't seen you since the big change but when he did, his eyes could've fell from his skull. It was almost comedic. Of course at the time his stares meant little to you. He was your best friend after all.

Until last year. It was the start of summer bonfire and all was normal. Belly was at home, Jeremiah was off talking to girls with Steven which left you and Conrad. You found it strange he didn't have the same interest in girls as Steven and Jeremiah but who were you to say anything. You wanted him to stay.

Long story short he finally made a move and a kiss began in the abandoned life-guard tower a couple feet away from the main event, it was all going well, almost too well. And you were proven correct when Steven and Jeremiah came down the beach looking for you and found you in that very compromising position.

Seeing as they weren't exactly in a place to talk they agreed to keep it a secret and so it became the new norm for them, seeing the two of you together while your mom, Susannah, Laurel and Belly were non the wiser.

The bonfire was in full-swing, Summer had officially begun and what better way to start it than in the lap of Conrad Fisher on Cousins Beach.

He was sat cross legged on the blanket you'd brought from the house, while you sat atop him, legs either side of his own.

"I just think we should be nicer to her, I mean that was us three years ago." You sighed, you'd had a beer or two and were feeling increasingly guilty about the disallowance of Belly to come tonight.

"None of us were allowed out at sixteen, it's only fair." Conrad replied, voice low and relaxed. Something you appreciated about him, he was a very soothing person.

"Yeah, but that's different! We all had each other and now-" You began but he cut you off with a groan.

"Can we please not talk about Belly when your sat on me?" He said, smile gracing his lips.

You began to 'ew' and berate him but were soon cut off by his lips on yours, one of his hands holding your jaw in place while the other sat comfortably on the upper part of your thigh.

It didn't take much for you to open up, his tongue instantly hitting against yours as he deepened the kiss. When your mouths disconnected, it made a sound which made your head go light and airy.

"Do you still feel bad?" He whispered. Hand moving up to put a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"No." You answered, shooting forward to connect your lips once more. He chuckled into the kiss, teeth clashing together but you didn't care you just wanted him.

His spare hand slowly and nonchalantly drifted to the hem of your shorts, groping your ass gently, you were still in public after all and Conrad wanted to be able to say he had an ounce of class and respect. Even if it was a lie.

A disruption to the left of you and Conrad caught your attention and you went to turn your head, lips still interlocked but he denied that, hand on your jaw tightening and turning your head back to look at him.

The final straw was a resounding 'Ooh' from the crowd and you decided no matter what he did you were going to see what was happening.

Finally turning your head you found Belly. On the floor. And looking directly at you. A lot was wrong with that.

"Shit, Conrad." You said, which finally got his face away from placing delicate kisses across your jaw and to see the same thing as you. His face also dropping.

"Belly?" He said, unable to stop himself in disbelief.

Really this would've been the right time to get out of his lap but you were frozen in fear, forgetting you were sat there in the first place.

"I thought me and Y/N were like your sisters." She said, anger painted on her face. You didn't like confrontation in the first place and so saying something was hard but you couldn't let Belly think badly of you or Conrad.

"Belly look- it's different-" You defended, but she once again cut you off in anger and while your throat tightened in anxiety, you felt Conrad's hand soothe over your back. Reassuring and subtle.

"Different? I know him just as well as you do. It's not different." She seethed. Stepping closer to the two of you.

"Belly, c'mon you know what I mean." You whispered unintentionally. Your eyes were going glassy, feeling looks from all around you. Some in agreeance with you, some with her but none knew the full story.

"We've been together since last year. It was after you left to take Steven to look at Colleges." Conrad stepped in while Belly processed. Preventing another dig at you.

"I thought you weren't ready for a relationship and that, may I remind you again, we're like sisters to you?" Belly replied.

"I didn't-" Conrad started though a hurt look from you cut him off. "Look I said that like two years ago, it isn't even relevant anymore. Clearly." He said. Eyes connecting with you to reassure you, not her.

"You're such a brat." He added, seeing the affect her words had on you.

"Well you're an asshole." Belly yelled back, all while you sat stunned and quiet.

"Belly! You came, great, we can all hang out." Jeremiah said enthusiastically running over. You appreciated his intervention, as obvious as it was that he was trying to distract her.

"I'm about to take her home." Steven cut him off.

"What?" Jeremiah said, confused. Though the situation was bad she was old enough to be out past ten pm. Whether Steven liked it or not.

"Yeah, we're leaving, are you kidding me?" Steven replied as if it was obvious. Grabbing her hand.

"Ok, Steven come on. Go hang out with Shayla or something." Jeremiah answered and you couldn't help but admire the boy and his love for Belly.

You tore your eyes away from the conversation above you as they dispersed, looking back at Conrad who was sighing and pushing hair from his face.

"It'll be okay." You said, knowing what he needed without having to ask.

"I know." He smiled gently, though his eyes didn't fully match. He was worried, and you couldn't blame him.

Belly knew, and worst of all, just five months ago she had confided in you about her crush on Conrad and so it was unclear if she would ever even speak to you again.

Guilt was swallowing you whole.

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad x reader #conrad fisher #tsitpbookseries #tsitp fanfic #tsitp s2 #tsitp season 1 #tsitp imagine #conrad fisher x reader #chris briney #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #tsitp #conrad fisher x fem!reader

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neteyamsyawntu · 11 days

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Violent Little Thing

Neteyam x Bratty Na'vi!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, vulgar language, angst, smut, size difference, brat behavior, dom Nete, P in V, friends to lovers, belly bulge

Things hadn’t always been so… intense between you and Neteyam. Once you were nearly inseparable, tied at the hip since childhood. It was an understatement to say that you were with each other at every waking moment, whether it be through sparring, training, hunting, or even weaving together. While most in the clan saw you as wild, Neteyam was your rock. When it became apparent that you weren’t going to grow much more than your current height and the others in your age group began to heckle you for it, Neteyam, aside from sending a few poison laced stares their way, helped you train to push your body so that you wouldn’t fall behind. Yet as the two of you grew older and matured, or rather when Neteyam’s training as the future Olo’eyktan became his main priority, the two of you spent less and less time together, until at last you couldn’t help but think that Teyam was flat out avoiding you.

Any advances you made to bridge the growing gap between the two of you only fell flat, until you were tired of fighting. Fighting for him and the relationship you once had. You accepted that this was just him “growing into his own” and “fulfilling his duties as future Olo’eyktan”, yet still a small piece of you couldn’t help, as you watched him from afar where Neteyam had brought your training group to strengthen your fighting strategies with a tang of longing in your chest. Today’s main focus was on using your natural surroundings to your advantage. The spot that Neteyam had chosen was the most dense of forest that you could get for such practices; with winding tree roots and vines galore to climb, swing, and push off of to make quick escapes or sneak attacks. Today, you realized, would be no different from any of the previous training days. Despite the forced proximity between you and Neteyam, he still refused to look your way for more than a few seconds while explaining instructions.

Your foot tapped against the ground, tail swatting behind you impatiently as you watched two members of your group twist and weave through the lush flora, avoiding punches and kicks from one another, waiting for your turn. “Don’t worry, Y/N. If you can’t reach one of the vines, I’ll give you a boost.” A low voice sounded from behind you. Tehkani, offered you a smug smirk as you threw him a glare over your shoulder. Great mother this male was insufferable. It wasn’t that Tehkani wasn’t attractive, quite the contrary in fact. His downfall however was that he was one of the cockier men of the bunch to say the least, his ego could be compared to the size of an ikran's wingspan.

You gave him a dramatic scoff in response as you turned back to face the scene ahead of you, and for a moment, you could have sworn, Neteyam’s ear twitched, angling in your direction from where he stood with his arms crossed a few feet in front of you, watching the two na’vi himself. “I don’t think assisting your opponent is part of the assignment.” You say to Tehkani without meeting his gaze, making sure to have the right amount of bite in your voice. Your spine straightens at the sound of his smooth chuckle from behind you and bristle as you feel his breath against the back of your ear to where he had leaned down to whisper, “Oh I don’t think they’d be able to tell… this area is so dense, I’d bet there’s quite a few things that could go unnoticed.”. As if right on queue, you observe as the muscles in Neteyam’s back tense.

Interesting…

Making sure to keep the direction of your gaze subtle, you turn your head slightly to the side, “And by ‘a few things’ you mean…?” You ask Tehkani, keeping your own voice low, pushing back the wave of nausea that manifests in your stomach when the male brushes the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear, “I mean… with all of this thick foliage and how tiny you are… I’m sure no one would notice if we were to sneak off and maybe… I don’t know, have a private sparring match of our-.”, “-Tehkani.” The growl in Neteyam’s voice has you snapping your attention to him in an instant. He hasn’t moved from where you last saw him, but his body was now angled in an open stance, partially to keep an eye on the two other na’vi that were still sparring through the obstacle course. “If you aren’t offering any useful observation or training advice, then I suggest you focus on the match ahead of you.” To his credit Tehkani held Neteyam’s stare, despite the full intensity of the future Olo’eyktan powered the glare that Neteyam was throwing his way.

“Actually Teyam, Y/N and I were talking about having a warm up match before it reached our turn on the course.” Damn was he arrogant, yet the tick in Neteyam’s jaw sent a trickle of satisfaction down your spine, his eyes flicking to your own for only a moment. “That won’t be necessar-.”, “Actually I think it would be a great idea.” Your own words seemed to surprise even you as they left your mouth. Neteyam’s gaze once again shot to you, his eyes assessing as he pondered what in Eywa’s name was going through your head.

It was common knowledge that you really only tolerated the males in your training group, especially when so many of them saw your height as a weakness, so the idea of you actually accepting Tehkani’s offer? Once Neteyam was done trying to read through the aloof expression on your face, he turned his gaze back to Tehkani with a look that was… different. His upper lip curled slightly to partially reveal his fangs, eyes glowing with a predatory… What was it… possessiveness? You could hardly stop the low hiss that left you as you gave Neteyam your own assessing look, now crossing your arms and swatting your tail in outrage. The utter nerve for him to look at anyone like that because of you— not when he refused to even have a casual conversation with you— refused to spend any time with you outside of training in months.

You braced yourself once you realized what you had done when that heated gaze now pinned you to the spot as Neteyam announced to the rest of the group, “Training is over for the day, you are dismissed. Head back to hometree.”. The rest of the na’vi, although a bit confused, heeded their karyu’s words and began making their way back home. You held his glare, knowing that when Neteyam had excused everyone, that it applied to everyone except you. Fine. If he wanted to play that game, you could play too. Fixing your expression to something a tad more inviting you throw a glance to Tehkani as he was still debating whether leaving you alone with the fuming future leader was in your best interest, “I’ll find you when I get back, okay?” You forced your voice into a collected and velvety sounding calm, wrapping up your little display with a gentle brush of your tail against Tehkani’s leg. The male straightened, his eyes now eating every inch and curve of your body up, before giving a slight nod, remembering he was supposed to be playing the roll of the nonchalant playboy and offering a hushed “Sure.” Before turning making his way to catch up to the others, “No. She won’t.” Neteyam spat after him.

Tehkani paused a moment, throwing glances between you and Neteyam like he was watching a game of tennis, before looking to you for… perhaps reassurance? To which you just gave him a curt nod and click of your tongue. That sent him on his way.

Neteyam didn’t take his eyes off you as he waited a few minutes for the sounds of his students to disappear into the forest. Arms still crossed over his muscles chest as he spoke, “Care to explain yourself?”. You gawked, scoffing at his arrogance. Surely he couldn’t think you were wrong in this instance. “Last time I checked, you were never entitled to any explanation of my actions.”. Your heart clenched at the words. It hurt to challenge him face on like this, but even still, part of you knew that this had been a long time coming. “I am entitled to one when it’s your actions that are distracting from my lessons. So I’ll ask again. Would you care to explain yourself, Y/N?”.

The further reeling of your upper lip felt all too natural as you bared your fangs at Neteyam, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”, “Am I?” Neteyam challenged with a voice of startling calm and control, “Yes. Cause this has to be some kind of a joke for you to suddenly be acting like this— like I mean something to you when you very clearly have shown me that isn’t the case.”. Neteyam bristled, taking a step toward you to which you matched in retreating a step, “You really think you don’t mean something to me?” You feel like you couldn’t have rolled your eyes any harder, “Oh save me the bullshit, Nete. You’ve hardly even so much as looked at me when we aren’t at training.”

Neteyam let out an elongated sigh, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “So I suppose this is all your tactic to get my attention then? Well congratulations Y/N. You’ve got it. Happy?”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It’s like he was treating you as if you were nothing more than a spoiled child. Rage coursed through your veins like venom as you chanced a step toward him, tail raised up high in defiance, “No Neteyam! I haven’t been happy since you shut me out of your life and made me nothing more than an obligation rather than your friend!” There it was. Everything you had kept bottled up, and here you were half ready to throttle him over it.

Neteyam’s eyes widened, his arms dropped to his sides. He had half a mind to look… startled, as if you had physically struck him. “You truly think I don’t care about you?” His voice was now gentle, almost cautious, his face painted in blatant anguish. “I know you don’t.” The words came out with a regrettable trembling. “Friends don’t just push each other away without giving any sort of reason.”. Neteyam’s ears flattened, his head dropping as he looked at the ground briefly, trying to fight for the right words, but he knew what he’d done. Known all the times you’d approached him that he’d always given excuses that he was busy or straight up walked away. “I know… It’s just. These past few months, with my preparations and shadowing my father I-.”, “I don’t want to hear it, Teyam.”.

Neteyam flinched at the outburst, cocking his head slightly, “Y/N, you don’t understand how stressful these last couple of months have been. I have been exhausted-.”, “Then you could have told me- asked me for support! But instead you chose to shut me out.” You argued, arms splayed out as if putting yourself open for attack, putting yourself at his mercy and presenting your vulnerability.

“I was trying to figure it out for myself.”, “You abandoned me!”. Pain and regret rippled over Neteyam’s features, his shoulders sagging if only briefly, blinking rapidly as he tried to find the words, tried so desperately to say something that would mend the wound that had been gouged in your relationship. He took a step forward, “I didn’t- Y/N you mean everything to me! You think I wanted you to shoulder my burden for me?”.

“Fuck you!” The words explode from your throat before you can give them a second thought. Neteyam stops dead in his tracks, his chin tilting slightly upward in silent disbelief with a huff of a breath, his jaw tightening as his eyes survey you before him, “Really?”. The lethal tone in which he says the word is like a jab to the gut leaving anxiety to now bubble in your stomach in its wake. Then he inclines his head, eyes narrowing with a heaviness that makes your knees weak, “I suggest you choose your next words very, very carefully, Y/N.”. You suck in a shaky breath as he dares another step toward you, then another, until your back meets the rough bark of the tree behind you. Your ears flatten, nose crinkling slightly in annoyance at your own obliviousness that ended in you being cornered, yet you refuse to give him the satisfaction of thinking he has even an inkling of power over you, so you lift your chin in defiance, forcing yourself to meet the gaze of the future Olo’eyktan standing before you, so close that the height difference between you now blatantly obvious, the top of your head just barely reaching his collarbone, which only proves to make you clench your teeth at the constant “one up” he’s always had on you.

“Fuck. You.” You hissed the words with strict emphasis, “Fuck you and your self righteous bullshit that you like to parade around the clan. I’m sure it’s real hard for you to hold all of this power over everyone.”

“Stop it…”

“This sense of privilege you carry just for being the son of Toruk Makto.”

“Y/N…” Neteyam spoke your name with such an edge you never recognized in his voice before, that you would’ve shuddered otherwise, but you didn’t care.

“The mighty warrior, who excels in everything. Future Olo’eyktan and major pain in my ass.”

“Enough!” The growl behind the words finally snapped you back to the present, as if you weren’t in your own body to begin with. You assessed how close the proximity between the two of you had become. The two of you were practically sharing the same breath, Neteyam’s broad chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy, rugged breaths. Yet despite his heavy breathing, nothing in Neteyam’s face showed any signs of the rage that was sure to be fuming under his skin. No, instead his face only bore a mask of pure icy calm. “Get away from me.” Your words were hardly more than a whisper as you held his gaze, fighting not to crumble under it, yet his voice reflected the calm on his face, “No.”.

“Get. Away.” You spat through ground teeth. Again you are met with resistance, “I will not.”. So now it was your turn to resist. Baring your fangs in a snarl you raised your hands, sending a brisk yet firm shove to his chest. Neteyam staggered only slightly before regaining his composure, his amber eyes never leaving yours for even a second, “Again.” Was he using this as a training moment? Your blood rose to a boil in your veins as you raised your hands again, stepping forward to try and utilize the strength in your body to push past him, yet the moment your hand met his chest, Neteyam’s had captured your wrists, now causing you to stagger back as he pinned them above your head.

Your pulse quickened as you watched him with wide eyes, noses now brushing against one another. He was close. Too close. Close in the sense that it had your blood boiling for more reasons than one. You felt as if the heat in your blood might very well melt you as Neteyam lowered his head to slowly run the tip of his nose down the column of your neck, “Neteyam…”, “You always were such a violent little thing.”. You choked back the whine that threatened to escape your throat as Neteyam’s lips met the space just above your collarbone, “I’m not… I’m not little.” The words came out a bit more breathy than you had anticipated, mentally cursing yourself when you felt Neteyam smirk against your skin. “Aren’t you?” He countered, letting his teeth graze your skin where his lips had been.

Your breath hitched at that, head falling back in silent defeat, “Fuck off Sully.” You spat, one last attempt to get some sort of control on the situation, yet your resolve was so close to slipping. Neteyam pulled back, a quiet fire roaring in those golden eyes of his as he gripped your jaw in his hand, forcing your gaze to meet his, “You’ve always had such a foul mouth.” He purred, now eyeing said mouth in contemplation, but you would give him no room for contemplation. You would get the upper hand one way or another. With that, you crashed your mouth into his.

The kiss was rough and sloppy as a mix of lips, tongue and teeth tangled and fought for dominance. Neither of you would back down so easily. Your body cried out as Neteyam pressed his weight into you, hands gripping your hips as his fingers dug into the smooth skin there. You took the opportunity to fist your own hands into his braids, tugging at the roots of his head, only to have a moan ripped from you as Neteyam captured your tongue in his mouth, giving it a firm suck. Your body trembled against his in anticipation, your hips subconsciously grinding against the stiffness beneath Neteyam’s loincloth that now bumped against your stomach.

Wrenching your mouth from his, your half lidded eyes slid over Neteyam’s face, giving a slow and precise rock of your body against his bulge, “Already hard after a single kiss? I’m shocked Nete, I thought you were going to make me fight for it.” You breathed against his lips as he dove back in for more, briefly parting only to respond, “Eywa, you’re such a…” he broke into a growl, pressing his lips to yours again before continuing, “I wouldn’t be acting so high and mighty if I were you.”. You craned your neck as Neteyam descended from your lips to leave a trail of kisses down your jugular, “Oh? And why not?” You breathed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, while the other hand stayed firmly lodged in his hair. “Because…” Neteyam let out a breathy groan before dragging his tongue from the base of your neck, all the way to your jaw, then to your ear, “I can smell how badly you want me.” A lick up the shell of your ear, “How wet you are for me.” And then his lips closed around your earlobe, making your body squirm against his, whimpering out pathetically as Neteyam guided your hips to move against him rhythmically.

“Mmn great mother…” you whined following his movements to relieve some form of tension that was building between your legs. “Tell me what you want, yawne…” ‘yawne’, your heart hammered at that, yet you could only respond with another whimper. “Use your words.” You groaned in frustration pushing off of him enough to spread your legs somewhat, letting him stand between them, “Touch me… please Nete..”, “Oh, the brat has manners… I thought I was going to have to make you beg.”. Your skin felt hot against his calloused fingers as he let one hand drift from your hip to the band of your loincloth, skimming it teasingly, “Fuck you.” You groaned, bucking your hips in attempts to entice him further, get him right where you wanted him. “Such a dirty little mouth…” Neteyam growled, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, “Don’t worry, yawne. I intend to.” And with that, his hand plunged past the band of your loincloth, his fingers grazing along your pussy lips that were indeed drenched in your arousal.

Neteyam swore as he gathered your wetness on his fingers, spreading and massaging it over your clit. Your body trembled, toes curling as you bit into his shoulder, trying your hardest not to let yourself be completely vulnerable. The game was still on and if he wanted you to break for him, he’d have to earn it. Almost as reading your thoughts, Neteyam slipped a finger passed your entrance groaning into your ear at the tightness of it, “You’re so wet, yawne… all for me?” Neteyam mused. Smug ass. “How do you know part of that wasn’t for Tehkani? -Ngahh!” As if answer, Neteyam forced a second finger into you, thrusting deep enough to make his point, ripping a cry of pleasure form your throat, “Don’t you dare say his name while I’m fucking you with my fingers.” Neteyam hissed, nipping at your jawline, “By the time we are finished, I’ll make sure my name is the only one you remember”.

Your back arched, perching yourself on your tip toes as Neteyam’s fingers found the spot that made you into a moaning mess as they began flicking and curling against it. Your hips sputtered against his hand, nails biting into the skin of his back. Your eyes filled with pleasured tears as the knot in your core threatened to snap, pulling tighter and tighter, the song of your pitching voice having Neteyam brace his other hand on the tree beside you, “Go ahead, yawne… say it.”. “Mmn!” You whined helplessly, burning your face in the spot between his neck and shoulder. “Say my name, ma’ yawntu..” Neteyam’s rasped voice purred against your hairline, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Haah… T-Teyam!!” With another flick of his fingers a bolt of lightning shot through your body, having you shuddering against him, as the tears that had brimmed in your eyes now flowed hot down your cheeks.

Giving you a moment to collect yourself, Neteyam peppered tender kisses along your face before gently removing his hand from your loincloth to fully take in his drenched hand. His soft chuckle brought you out of your dazed euphoria as you looked between his hand and your sodded loincloth, “I don’t think you’ll be able to wear that back to the clan.” Neteyam mused with a cheeky smirk, catching your half hearted glare just as he brought his hand to his lips and began licking it clean. The sight had the ache between your thighs manifesting all over again, biting your lip as you beheld the show before you, all while untying the straps of your loincloth and allowing it to drop to the forest floor between you.

Neteyam’s eyes darkened, half lidded with lust, kicking away the garment as he mirrored your action, making quick work of his own loincloth before tossing it alongside yours. You tried not to look. Tried and failed as the utter girth of him had your thighs clenching together. “I meant it, when I said you were everything to me.” Neteyam hummed, lifting your chin with a finger, forcing you to meet his gaze as his other hand gave his cock a few firm pumps, “Now let me show you exactly how much you mean to me.”. You were nearly beyond words as you spared another glance between his legs, licking your lips as you looked deep into his eyes, “Good… fuck me like you mean it, Nete…”.

Neteyam’s eyes flared at your words, a deep rumbling brewing in his chest as he leaned down, elbows hooking under your knees and hoisting you up and spreading you wide for him, pinning your body against himself and the tree. Your arms were around his neck in an instant, eyes glued to his own before your mouths finally reclaimed each other. This time the pace was sweeter, gentler, knee buckling, if it weren’t for the fact that your knees were now pushed up to your breasts. Then, oh so gently, Neteyam lowered you until his tip prodded at your entrance, his teasing swipes not lasting long once you whined in protest, desperately trying to move your hips to drop onto him. Once he had made the descent, lowering you onto his cock, your whole body melted into his, letting the feeling of him stretching you out consume every conscious thought in your mind.

“Mmph…Great mother… you’re so tight, yawne- fuuuck.” Neteyam cursed into the crook of your neck, slowly stirring his cock inside you before lowering you down more and more, inch by delicious inch, until he was fully nestled inside of you. A prominent pressure prodded at your lower abdomen, your face a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as you adjusted to the feeling, “S.. so deep…” you mewled, clinging to him like a babe, your body trembling oh so slightly.

Never had you felt so incredibly full, so completely. Your mind whirled as you willingly gave into him at last, nuzzling your cheek against his own. The action had your scent forcing its way into Neteyam’s nostrils, consuming his thoughts as he groaned in response, returning the favor with a brush of his own cheek and a gentle stirring of his hips. “Oh Eywa…” you whimpered, matching his rhythm to ride along with the slow movements of his hips. “Ahh that’s it yawne… shit… I won’t be able to hold back if you keep moving like that.”. An invitation and yet another challenge, whether he realized he had given it or not. Your hips moved with further motivation, speeding your pace enough that had Neteyam’s eyes rolling back, groaning against your neck.

When Neteyam opened his eyes again, you gasped to find his pupils were nearly fully dilated, repositioning you by placing both of your calves in his shoulders, his hands now grasping your hips in what could be considered bruising if it didn’t feel so good, so right. Then before you could even begin to beg him to move, Neteyam lifted your hips, sliding you off of his cock until only his tip remained, then slammed you back down with a quickness that had you gasping for air. Again and again, over and over, Neteyam repeated this, fucking into you like his life depended on it, your body bouncing and bucking along with his every thrust. The pressure in your stomach, you realized, was definitely the feeling of his tip brushing the inside of your stomach, owning and claiming every inch of you, inside and out.

Neteyam’s name became a prayer on your lips, your moans and cries as well as the sound of squelching and slapping skin echoed off the towering trees around you. “Mmmn… you are mine, yawne…” Neteyam groaned against your lips, eating up your moans with primal delight.

“All…”

Thrust

“Fucking…”

Thrust

“Mine…”

Thrust

With that final thrust you were sent into your second climax, clenching around his length as you rode out your high. Neteyam swore gripping your hips harder, biting into your shoulder as his cock twitched inside of you before spilling into you, fucking each and every drop straight into your womb.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, still catching your breaths, bodies sticky with sweat as you came down from your highs. Neteyam hummed in satisfaction, his tongue slipping out to lick at the bite mark that was now throbbing on your shoulder. “Sorry…” Neteyam breathed, gently nuzzling the spot with his nose as if it would take the ache away, yet you were more focused on the strain in your legs from holding this position. Even still you couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips, “It’s ok, we’re even now.”. Neteyam cocked his head as he pulled away to look at you, the space between his brows pinched in confusion, “I said some… terrible things to you today, I think I deserved getting bit into.”. Neteyam then returned the laugh with a chuckle of his own, shaking his head, “No… you spoke your mind today. You’re right. I was a terrible friend and I neglected you.”.

Another silence fell as Neteyam brushed his cheek along the spot in your shoulder, then your neck, then your own cheek, blissfully basking in each other's scents, “You could’ve come to me you know… talked to me about it.”, “I know…” Neteyam whispered, “I know that now… and I promise I won’t shut you out again..”. Neteyam sighed pressing a kiss to your temple, holding his lips there for a short while before finally saying, “I never… want you to feel like I abandoned you. Never again.”. You held back tears as you rested your forehead against his, “We’ll do better. Both of us. Hopefully as a bit more than friends now.” You half joked, yet the seriousness you were met with when Neteyam pulled back to look into your eyes startled you, “I meant it when I said you are mine, Y/N. Mine and only mine… that’s why…” Neteyam held you close, continuing to brush his skin against yours over and over again in a manner that had you giggling softly, “When we walk back to hometree I want my scent to be on every inch of your body.”.

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