#fic: loyalties lie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

916 notes · View notes

luvsreiner · 1 month

Text

We (in this case me) need a fic where Toji and the reader have a somewhat sad relationship, where she has to deal with being placed in the shadow of his deceased wife, but she becomes pregnant and arguments begin because , how dare you try to do this? He initially rejects the pregnancy, taking into account that he already had megumi and didn't want another baby, he didn't want his old family to be replaced or whatever, whatever the reason, but over time he starts to accept it.

The problem is that he doesn't show this, he just continues to refuse to get involved and this makes the reader understand that she would be a single mother even in marriage and that despite her doing everything she could, she didn't belong to that family as she would have liked, so she leaves after saying goodbye. of a Toji who would go to work and a Megumi who would go to school. She leaves and leaves the divorce papers on the coffee table with a letter talking about how she felt and how she needed to distance herself.

So when Toji comes home and notices everything in silence, he thinks it's weird because she normally wouldn't leave everything off and go to bed before ten. He notices the letter and reads it, feeling mixed feelings as he thinks about the words she wrote.

As time passed and missing her became increasingly difficult to ignore, he decided to tell Megumi the truth about how she had left, correcting the lie about her traveling to visit her parents as he said before. So Toji has to deal with a barrage of questions and a child crying about how he had lost another mother, which made him even more worried and distressed about the situation. He gets in touch with her and tries all the time to find out where she was now, with the intention of visiting her and asking her to come back, but when he does so, she responds by saying that she no longer trusts his words and cannot see the feeling that he said he felt was true. With that, the conversation ends talking about the baby and how they would do it from then on, she gave some ways of dealing with what he accepted and from that day on, life as separated parents began. He would go to the appointments even if he was silent for most of them, he would be there on the day of the birth and help her because she was scared and he knew he had to support his (ex) wife in such a difficult time. When the child was born, they were blessed with a beautiful girl with dark hair like Toji, but her mother's appearance and it was one of the happiest days of their lives.

As incredible as it may seem, he helped her postpartum, and always visited them both when he wasn't at work, taking Megumi with him since he couldn't be alone and needed to create a bond with his little sister. As life went on, Toji managed to spend more time with the girl, now receiving her every weekend at his house, he always picked her up on Friday and took her on Sunday, and it was always the moments when he most felt anxious, despite always calling to talk to her (or just using it as an excuse to talk to you) and visiting the girl almost every two dayshimself by surprise while making dinner, he cleaned the wound and asked the girl more about the subject.

Apparently a tall, blond man was there quite often, taking a pink-haired boy with him and drinking tea with them. Did Toji worry about knowing who that man was, a friend or a boyfriend? Did you trust him so much that you took him close to your daughter? He didn't even realize that he repeated these questions in front of him after once again leaving the child at home. Your answer? He's a long-time friend who you recently got back in touch with. Nothing more, he already had someone waiting for him at home.It was a relief for Toji to hear this, he knew you didn't owe him loyalty, but the idea of seeing you moving on made him bitter and even jealous. He said goodbye to you and went home thinking about the matter, that possible threat in the form of a friend was a turning point for him to make the decision to try to get your marriage back together. He opened the bedside drawer and pulled out the divorce papers that he hadn't signed yet, let alone sent to you, wondering why you never questioned him about it. He looked at the letters without reading them and tore up the paper when he saw his signature, they wouldn't need it anymore as they would soon be back.

*I don't know what he could try to do, but I think that could be left to someone with more ability to develop a story than me, hahaha. Sorry, I got a little carried away explaining the plot and ended up almost writing a one shot. Thank you if you read this far and sorry for any mistakes, I'm writing sleepily*

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #toji angst

223 notes · View notes

inazuman · 11 months

Text

tools of destiny

☁ blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁ reader is afab. yandere, dubcon, kidnapping, blade calls reader some derogatory language but there's praise too, bondage (belt), whipping, breeding, oral sex (f receiving), cumplay, stockholm syndrome ☁ A/N: basically it's yandere dubcon kidnapper blade with reader who tries to fight back only to give in to the pleasure. also cherubimbunny gave me this fic idea hehe ily mwah ☁ 6k words ☁ @trailblazernet

Blade’s loyalty to the Stellaron Hunters, to Destiny’s Slave, knows no bounds.

Let me out! Please!

He follows every order with little question, giving Elio his complete faith.

I-I haven’t done anything bad, I swear!

He abandoned his body to become a weapon. He has murdered, deceived, and taken from others in the name of destiny.

Where am I? Where are you taking me?

His actions with you are no exception.

“Please. Please let me go. What do you want from me?!”

You speak as soon as you hear the door open, your blindfold seeped with tears that streak down your cheeks. The person says nothing, and the door clicks close. Heavy footsteps track towards you, warm hands untying the cloth from around your head even as you try to shuffle back on the floor, their expensive-smelling cologne filling the air.

You blink once, twice, looking around you. You’re in a… a bedroom? Your breath is taken by the luxury surrounding you, a full king size bed on high stilts sits right behind you.

You stare at the man that captured you, and he can’t help but stare back at your eyes, the way they’re full of anger and hurt.

“What did you bring me here for? I haven’t done anything wrong, haven’t hurt anyone. Why am I here?”

He simply observes you, the way you move from demure to strong to pitiful, as if one of those will finally grant you an answer from him.

After a beat of silence, two, he finally speaks.

“I won’t lie to you. You are a prisoner here.” He keeps his head tilted down, but you swear you think he almost looks pleased witha slight smile on his face. “But we mean you no discomfort, for the most part. If you choose, you can live comfortably. We will take care of you, feed you well, give you anything you’d like to keep you entertained. You may even want to join our side. Or,” he shifts his weight off the wall, taking one step forward, and you immediately feel fear enrapture you, like the walls are closing in around you. You shuffle back, retreating until your shoulders hit the footboard of the bed.

Like a hunted rabbit, he can’t help but think. Something about a scared, pretty girl has him running his thumb against his jaw, though there’d be time for that later.

“Or,” he continues, “you can make this difficult. You can try to escape, but you won’t be able to. And I will tie you up, break your legs, whatever is necessary to ensure the arrival of the destiny that Elio chooses.”

“Destiny?! What destiny could I be involved in?”

With a flick of his wrist, his sword materializes in his hand. You immediately regret your tone. The bed shifts behind you as you press your back against it, but faster than you can blink, the edge of the sword slices against your ties from the side. You roll your wrists free, the chafing evident on your skin.

He doesn’t care to answer, pressing a button on the wall, door sliding open, but he hesitates. He turns his jaw back to you, as if lost in thought and eyeing you up all at once.

“A destiny greater than both you and I,” the words are voiced carefully, like a prophecy, but the moment is gone in an instant. “Rest up, girl. Know that even if you make it off this floor, there is nowhere to run. We are in the Stellaron Hunters’ headquarters, in the middle of space.”

He leaves swiftly, and you make a note of the way two different locks sound as the door shuts – one mechanical, one electronic.

You look around to find that the man is correct. There is a table with a screen that acts as both a vanity and a computer, expertly hacked so that you can play games and watch shows, but can’t communicate with the outside world. The bathroom is just as hauntingly beautiful, with both a bathtub and a shower, even the sink counter is littered with various, unopened products.

All the added ways that they’ve evidently made the bedroom as comfortable as possible have ironically made the situation all the more fearful. How long do they plan to keep you here? What do they need from you? What does your comfort matter to them?

But you’re exhausted. You only manage to shower and brush your teeth before crashing on the bed.

It’s unfortunate that it’s Blade’s job to care about your comfortability, but in Elio’s words, ‘the less resistance she has to you, the better’.

He takes the painstaking, daily task of bringing you your three meals at set times, leaving them on your desk like some kind of butler or room service (that’s his limit. Someone else can take them out when you’re done). All so you can get used to him, his presence, grow some sort of sick attachment to him.

Stockholm syndrome is what Kafka called it.

“Human emotions are fickle, you see,” Kafka trails her hand over his shoulder, playing the little game she plays to keep someone entranced on her. But Blade has seen it far too many times to have any reaction. “They aren’t… something that can be mapped with 100% guarantee in destiny’s path. Though, her acceptance and willingness in this situation isn’t necessary, it would make things easier.”

He waves the explanation off, retiring to his room to handle the second part of his job with you. The dreams.

He plants them in your mind with his abilities as mere suggestions. His hand grazing over your thighs, between them, up your body, to your breasts… His breath hot against your skin, his hard member pressed up against you…

You jolt awake from them, covered in cold sweat.

It’s all in preparation for the day Kafka tells you the truth of your arrival.

“You are to create a powerful warrior, the heir of Destiny.”

Kafka says it so gently during your weekly meeting that you step back, shocked and enraged all at once.

“Excuse me?” you almost spit the words at her. “How dare you-”

“Ah, ah.” She taps the gun strapped to her side once. “We’ve been real nice to you, sweetheart. I’d hate to see things get messy between us, wouldn’t you?”

You shut up immediately, realizing the situation. You’ve been brought here and treated well, not because they care, or because they even like you, but for this purpose alone.

“You get it now, don’t you?” she whispers in your ear, playing with your hair, both intimate and threatening all at once. “There are things we can do to make you more… placid in the situation. But something consensual would make it more pleasant for the both of you. We’ve even added some items in your bathroom, so that you can feel nice and fresh before and after. What do you say, hm? You wanna play with some new things?”

You take the week Kafka gives you to prepare. But what you prepare is not just your body or your looks. The nail files you were given have been sharpened steadily, forks and knives from your meals tucked under different parts of your mattress and pillows. Any attempt to search up how to prevent a pregnancy or anything even related to it gives a blank page. Whoever is their tech person is damn good.

On the day of, Kafka raps her knuckles three times over your door. You know it’s her, because Blade never knocks. Her eyes rack up and down your body, an eyebrow arched.

“Blade will be here any minute. Are you not going to get dressed?”

She doesn’t wait for your answer, moving straight towards your closet with some girl best friend mentality instead of your captor. You play with the hem of your pajama shirt, your fingers jittering against the fabric as she hums quietly, hangars clicking against each other with every nervous second, only stopping with a satisfied mhmm!

“Here you go, sweetheart.” She pulls out a raunchy, wine red lingerie set with a matching sheer gown, almost like the colors on Blade’s usual outfit.

“It doesn’t really matter what I wear, does it?”

You shouldn’t question her, shouldn’t comment, but the overthinking runs through your mind so heavily that words full or resentment spew out before you can stop yourself. What happens after you’ve had the baby? Is that it? Is your purpose finished?

Kafka smiles sweetly at you. “Of course it matters. You and Blade are Destiny’s match. In some cultures, a pre-organized match is how all marriages are made. As long as you cooperate, this could be a pleasurable experience! I’ve heard Blade’s quite talented in bed.” She acts like the conversation is nothing, holding the lingerie up to your body to see if the color matches your skin tone.

As long as you cooperate.

“A-After…”

Kafka laughs, so sweetly you might even feel like you were friends. “Oh, darling! As long as everything goes smoothly, there are no plans to get rid of you just yet. Does that help that pretty little head of yours?” She taps your forehead before pressing the hangars against your hands, gently pushing you towards the bathroom.

“Good luck, darling! I just know you look beautiful.”

Despite your preparations, nothing prepares you for Blade’s presence.

His heavy boots strike the floor with every step into your room before he sits at the foot of your bed to remove them with a thump, like he belongs here. He’s closer than he’s ever been to you since the day he grabbed you, so much so that you can smell his aftershave.

When he glances at you past his fringe, you tuck the blanket closer over you. It’s cute, he thinks. Even after seeing him day after day, you’re still the scared bunny he captured. He chuckles low in his throat. He approaches you like a predator seeking its prey, his arms stretched out. As if the open gesture makes him any less dangerous, as if you feel any less hunted. He wants to tell you that there’s nothing to be scared of, but you’d both know he’s lying.

“I can make this good for you,” he opts for instead, kneeling over you on the bed. You can’t help but notice how he towers over you, how tight his clothing fits over his body. He watches carefully at the way your fingers twitch in response.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you show me what’s under that blanket?” He carefully brings himself over, tugging the blanket between your hands, right in front of your chest. You let him, the duvet falling away, his eyes instantly marveling over your figure.

He wolf-whistles low, the sheer gown doing nothing to hide the pretty lingerie that hugs your body underneath.

“You got all prettied up for me, doll?” He wants to touch you, wants to tear it off of you like he was promised he’d be able to, but a glint of something holds him back. Because when he looks right into your eyes –

They burn with aggression. Even behind the fear and the innocence, he can feel the way you’re just about to fight or flight.

“Why don’t you let me in, doll? Let me touch you, okay?” He removes his shirt as he talks, unbuttoning it and sliding it off to reveal strong muscle and scarred tissue, your eyes wide at his figure.

You’re hesitant, not even sure why he’s asking, but you nod anyways. He starts with placing his hand on your calf, moving it up to your knee, reminding you of the dreams you’ve had night after night of him exactly like this, the touch both light and electric. He runs his other hand over your jaw, thumb over your cheek, even as you flinch slightly away.

“’m gonna kiss you,” the warning is a courtesy. He needs to speed things up, pressing a kiss to your forehead to test the waters, before pressing another one to your lips.

It’s soft, at first, his lips pillowy against your own. He deepens it, resting the back of your head onto the pillow, pressing your body into the mattress. His tongue swipes behind your teeth.

You wait, like a bird about to swoop down. Let your legs wrap around his torso, bringing him close, a soft groan escapes him from your initiative, eagerly seeking you back as his hands work their way up your thighs.

And then you strike, your heartbeat sharp in your chest, reaching behind you to grab a sharp nail file and hauling it towards his neck-

You hear it clatter to the ground before you can even process, wrist pinned to the mattress, squeezed borderline painfully between his thumb and forefinger. He acts like it’s nothing, continues wrapping his tongue around yours like you hadn’t just attempted to murder him. The only gesture he even recognizes what you did is the slight smile you feel against your lips as he pulls you in for another kiss.

So you fight, you aim between his legs as you kick and thrash, only for his other hand to wrap a hand around both your ankles clasped together. With both his hands occupied, you grab at the inside of one of your pillows to stab a fork into his side, but he’s faster, always faster, using his calf to pin your legs down as he slams your other wrist down on either side of you. His hands cover over yours like a lover, he comes right up against your ear to whisper –

“Tsk, tsk. Bad girl.”

The nail files you sharpened, the forks and knives you kept from your meals. All of it becomes futile, useless, against Blade. Every attempt you make to even scrape him between kisses are effectively knocked away, as if they never happened. He presses your hips down heavier into the bed.

“My, my. Someone’s been naughty when preparing for my arrival, haven’t you?”

“H-How can you go through with this?!” You spew out in frustration at his unfazed manner. “You kidnap, murder, manipulate others just for the sake of destiny? Some abstract cause that you don’t even see the full picture of?”

He laughs, but there’s no humor behind it, grabbing at your neck and squeezing, your hands flying down to his wrists immediately to resist.

“Maybe I enjoy it. Hm? You ever thought about that? Sure, if you’ve lived as long as I have, the killing starts to feel more like a chore. But taking a scared little girl and forcing her into bed with me? Well,” he growls in your ear, “maybe I get off on it.”

He releases you, letting you cough and taking in big gulps of air. He licks a stripe up your neck and over your lips, lets his teeth nibble against your jawline as he grips the back of your neck and manoeuvres your robe off to reveal your stomach, large hands splaying over the expanse of exposed skin.

“Besides, that’s not a nice way to treat someone doing you a favor, is it?” He grips you by the jaw, forcing you to look straight into his glowing eyes.

“I could just cum inside of you and be done with this,” he speaks through gritted teeth, his gaze following down the line of your body and back up. “So, you get one more chance to be good. No more tryna kill me, you’re just gonna lie back and let me take care of you. Answer me back, doll.”

You nod as much as you can with your cheeks mushed by his fingers.

“No more misbehavior. I’m being nice, darlin’. You get that? I’m preparing you.” He presses the length of his body against yours, your eyes widening as you feel his large member pressing against the seam of his pants, right against your core.

He smirks at your reaction. “Yeah. You get it now, don’t you, baby?” His teeth scrape against your earlobe as his breath ghosts over your ear. “If I made you take me without preparing you, you wouldn’t walk for days.”

You want to roll your eyes, to quip back, to tell him to fuck off, but then he’s stripping you of your bra, his mouth closing over your nipple, long fingers trailing over your thighs and towards your clothed core.

And all you can think, is that it’s better than the dreams you’ve had of him.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. How he licks at the underside of your breast, leaving bite marks at your cleavage, sucking at your nipples. How he teases his fingertips over your clothed core until the fabric sticks to you, nail trailing around your clit, thumb flitting just over and under the edge of your panties.

The way you can’t help but arch your back into him is telling at best and pathetic at worst.

“Already weak for me?” he chuckles darkly, pulling down your panties with a low whistle at the mess you’ve made.

“Has it been a while, princess?” he kisses your hip, lets his tongue trail over just so you can imagine what it’d be like to have his mouth on you. He knows how long they’ve kept you here under close watch, and yet he has the nerve to comment on it.

But he’s right, and you realize just how right he is when he drags his fingertips through your folds.

And it’s in this hazy, lust-filled moment that you figure if you’re going to be bred like an animal in this room to create the heir of destiny, you might as well get something out of it, willingly receive the pleasure you’re given, especially as his breath catches over your core, his nose digging into your inner thigh.

He watches as your shoulders go lax and your thighs tense. “Mm, that’s right, baby. You just relax and let me take care of you, hmm?” He laps at your inner thigh, coating it with saliva like he’s claiming you, you might think you find it almost disgusting if he didn’t match it with a long lick right at your core, from your entrance all the way up your clit.

Your response is immediate, your nails digging into the bedsheets below you as he chuckles, his hair and fringe tickling your thighs as he wraps his arms around each of your legs, holding you steady as he trails his tongue in a zig-zag motion over your core. He teases you every time, getting slower before he laps over your clit and then starting again from the bottom, until your bottom lip wobbles and your hips buck into his face, unable to contain how badly you want his tongue.

When you look down and make eye contact with him, you see his crazed eyes darkened. You almost feel scared to ask, scared to make requests when his tongue purposefully caves into your core.

He chuckles as he watches you weigh the options in your fogged mind, whether your desperation is worth risking the sight of him materializing his cracked sword. He teases you again, teeth grazing against the edge of your folds, circling wide around your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, spiralling towards the centre only to purposefully avoid it again. Your chest rises, heartbeat loud in your chest, unable to contain the whine that escapes you.

“I-,” you try despite your fear, only for the words to be choked in your throat as he laps another circle around your clit.

“Got something to say, little one?” You can feel his lips moving over your core as he speaks, tonguing your entrance.

“W-Wanna- please-”

“Mm, can’t decide if I like you better when you’re begging or when you’re trying to kill me.”

Oh, so he’s got jokes. You almost want to smack him as he laughs, but he interrupts you.

“Beg for it more.”

He slides a finger into you, so much longer and thicker than your own, as you babble something that sounds like “please, Blade, please, please”. He finally grazes his tongue over your clit once, twice, your back arching as he takes the opportunity to slide another finger into you.

“You gonna beg the same way for my cock, darling?” He crooks his fingers towards himself to press against your spongy walls, your wetness leaking down and coating his hand. “Answer me when I ask a question, doll. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Yes, fuck, Blade- gonna- gonna beg for your cock, ah, please, I wanna-” he decides that’s as good as it gets, bringing your clit between his lips and suckling over. Your hands grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, your hips bucking into his face uncontrollably as the pleasure builds.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Go ahead and cum for me,” his words are muffled against your heat, his shoulders keeping your thighs open even as they twitch and squeeze around him. He laps at your clit between suckles, fingers hitting your g-spot with every slide in, and you cum hard over his face and around his fingers. Your slick coats his tongue, your walls shaking with each wave, mouth open in a silent scream, mind fogged and empty except for the feel of him and the warm muscle of his tongue as he works you through it. It feels endless as your clit trembles in his mouth, your heartbeat loud and your breath harsh.

You come down with your chest still heaving, his tongue slowing down over you until you instinctively try to move away from him because of the sensitivity. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin over his face.

“Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Now,” he kneels back onto the bed, expanse of his chest visible, spreading your legs wide to fit his body between them. “We came to an agreement earlier, didn’t we? What did we say you’d do?”

“B-Beg for your cock…” you whisper it softly, demure even though he just had you thrashing over his face.

“Mhmm. So tell me, darling, what do you want?”

“W-Want you… want your cock-”

“More.”

“I- Blade,” you whine, “I want your cock inside of me. Is- is that what you-”

“Yeah, baby. I want you wet and sticky between your legs, begging for my cock despite the circumstances. That’s exactly what I want.”

He watches you, you let him watch you, as he unbuckles his belt with a click, letting it fall to the floor somewhere. You watch as his eyes skate down your form, his chest puffed and breathing deep, his pants pulling down to reveal more of his muscled torso and Adonis belt.

He’s stunning, you’re sure anyone would think so, there’s a small, self-sacrificial part of you that thinks you might even be lucky that in these unfortunate circumstances, such a beautiful man is the one taking you. But in his mind, nothing beats the way your eyes widen as his underwear falls to the floor to reveal his cock, both thick and long, the mushroom tip enlarged. You’re not sure if it’s fear or arousal that seeps into your veins as you back yourself up on the bed with your elbows, only for him to grab you by your thighs and drag you back towards him.

“Ah, ah. Where do you think you’re running, hm?” He pulls your legs up so his large hands can wrap around the back of each of your thighs, pushing your knees wide open and towards your chest.

Only when his hair tickles your ear, his breath ghosting over your neck, do you begin to reach under the mattress and towards the headboard. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s futile, that it’s a bad idea. He had been so nice to you, hadn’t he? Is this self-survival, or self-destruction?

You can almost pretend it’s in ecstasy, in anticipation of having his cock inside of you, as you draw a knife out and whisk it towards him.

The slap of his palm against your wrist happens so fast you don’t even process it until you hear him tsk, his fingers squeezing you so tightly until your hand opens up, metal clanging onto the floor as you let out a sob.

“And I had been so nice to you.” His voice drops an octave, a condescending, disappointed look is on his face as he stands back up, the kind that makes you want to bite back at him. The words never make it out, your mouth dry as he moves faster than you can blink to pick up his belt, the loud whip of it slapping against his palm making you flinch.

It’s in this moment that you remember what they called him, what Kafka called him. The greatest weapon destiny has ever forged.

“Blade, wait-” You try to use what little empathy he might’ve had for you before you had gone and done what you did, but it’s no use.

He laughs sadistically. “Wait?” He slaps the belt against the back of your thigh, your hands not moving in time to protect yourself, instead you wince as your fingertips tap against the now-welted skin.

“I did everything right, didn’t I? Talked to you, brought you your meals, ate you out until you came over my mouth.” Another whip rings out in the room against the back of your other thigh, making you yelp in agony.

“And yet, how do you repay me, hm?” He climbs over you, lightning fast, one hand gripping your chin and cheeks, mushing them, forcing you to look at him.

“Stupid girl,” he spits the words in your face. “You should’ve been grateful that I had been so kind.”

He whips you a third time over your core as you cry out, his face uncaring as tears start to drip down your cheeks. He grabs both of your wrists with one hand, looping his belt around them and between the intricate woodwork of the headboard, pulling until the leather is tight and clasping it together.

“I’ll tell you what, girl,” his hand wraps around your neck, not clasping down but the threat is there all the same, his thumb caressing over. “It was a good effort you made, I’ll give you that. But I could detect your micromovements of aggression from a mile away.” He squeezes your neck a little harder, listening to you gasp and choke under him. “You could never have won against me.”

After weeks of being patient, he finally, finally, gets to sink his cock into you. He jerks in his own hand at the thought, the blunt tip pressing against your entrance, surprised to find you even more slick than before. His hands resume where they were before, grabbing where your skin has turned raw from his abuse.

“Now, you’re gonna lie there all pretty and pliant like you’re meant to, and I’m gonna do my job. And you’re gonna thank me for fucking you slow, even though you don’t deserve it, because I wanna take in every inch of this pussy like I was promised.”

He bullies the first inch his cock into you with a satisfied smile, watches with greedy, perverted eyes as your slick already starts to coat and drip down his cock. He feels the way the ring of muscle restricts as he slides the second inch in.

“So fucking tight,” he groans. Your walls clamp down around him, almost like they’re stopping him from pushing in anymore, but he forces himself in anyways. You try to push him off with your legs, try to tell him that you’re “so full, so much,” but all he does is huff with a smile.

He feels his tip hit against your cervix, his balls slapping against your ass, and lets out a satisfied sigh. You think he’s done until his arms tense again, pressing in deeper again, an extra few centimetres shifting into you, even as you cry and sob that it’s too much and too big, until you swear your cervix opens up a little just for him to fill that space.

He’s so thick and hard inside you that you feel like you can’t breathe, the pressure so high inside of you that can’t even properly squeeze your walls around him. The feeling is suffocating, your wrists straining against his belt.

“Got you all prepped and ready for me, pretty thing,” he pulls out of you almost entirely, your cunt already feeling empty, before slamming back in hard. Your whole body jolts against the bed, he fills every part inside of you, the tip of his member pushing against your cervix again, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Now you’re gonna take me like you’re meant to, like you’re made to.” He pounds into you over and over again, your hands flat against the headboard as it shakes with each thrust. “And I’m gonna cum inside you, doll, just like I promised. And we’re gonna do this night after night, until your pussy moulds into the shape of my cock.”

He groans, pressing your knees down with his heavy body weight, until you’re almost chest-to-chest, his head draped beside yours. “Gonna cum deep inside of you, load after load, until you’re filled to the brim. Never gonna use my own hands again when this sweet cunt is just down the hall. My personal fucking cocksleeve.” Your mind goes blank with every thrust that hits deep inside of you, whines and moans leaving you, your breath catching with every kiss the tip makes with your cervix.

“You’re gonna go to sleep every night with my cum inside of you, wake up every morning to it still sticky between your thighs.” You swear he’s gone insane. When you turn to look at him, his eyes are wild, almost feral and destructive. But he’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, the frothy ring that forms at the base of his cock, the sight of it making some animalistic urge inside of him come out to scream to him that you’re his.

“You take me so well, doll. Shh, yes, baby, I know it feels good.” He doesn’t care anymore. The whole heir of destiny shit is at the back of his mind compared to the way your pussy feels squeezing around him.

“But y’know, baby,” he hisses through his teeth, “You cumming isn’t particularly necessary.” The whine that you elicit at hearing that makes him smile, you’re so adorable that he kisses your cheek. “Maybe that’ll be your punishment, hm? If ya really wanna cum, you’re gonna have to beg me for it.”

You pull on your restraints uselessly. “Please, Blade, please make me cum. I wanna cum, fuck, you’re so big.”

It’s clear to Blade that you’re not in your right mind by the way your eyes are glazed over, body limp aside from the way your thighs tighten around him, whimpering pleads and apologies and his name.

“Got nothing but cock in your brain, don’t ‘cha? Just a hole, made to be bred. That what you are? A pretty girl made for me to cum inside?”

You pant yes into his ear, you don’t know anything except how much you need him. Need for him to touch you, to let you cum, to fuck you.

“Say it then, my pretty girl. Say you want my cum.”

Your words feel foreign in your own ears the minute they come out of your mouth, you can’t believe for a minute what you’re saying but you decide you don’t care either.

“W-Want your cum, Blade.”

Your voice is meek, soft in comparison to the slap of skin as he fucks you harder, deeper. Nothing makes Blade happier than breaking a pretty girl to beg for his cum.

“Mm, good girl. You can be good after all, can’t you?” He brings his hand down between your legs, brushing over where you’re both connected to right at the base, picking up the slick that still continues to drip down your crack. He brings it up to your clit, grazes it with his thumb, and your reaction is instant, whining so loudly it borders on a scream. You swear you see stars at the feeling of your clit and cervix being stimulated all at once, again and again until you start to clench down hard and uncontrollably around him.

“Shit, fuck, baby, you gotta let me in-” Blade forces his cock into you despite it, hips snapping against yours. You’re so far gone, uncaring of the way your body thrashes against his, mind empty except for the way his cock fills you up over and over again.

“Yeah, fuck yeah. You gonna cum, baby? Ah, fuck. You’re gonna take my cum, take it all when I cum deep inside of you. Go ahead, pretty, go on and come for me.”

You don’t know if he’s somehow brainwashed you but his words are like a command that your body instinctively knows to follow, your thighs tightening, head falling back, your walls squeezing his cock impossibly tighter until your body jerks and you’re cumming. Your hands grip on your restraints tight, back arching and heartbeat loud in your chest and ears as he works you through it, his fingers never ceasing over your clit. You feel the way Blade’s tempo starts to falter, the beautiful groan he makes as he thrusts as deep as he can go once, twice, and then his warm seed spills inside of you, coating your walls and womb white, filling you up.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, baby.” He overstimulates you both, fucking his cock in one more time with a hiss and another thrum of his thumb over your clit that has you trying to reel back just a little from him, even in your tired state, your walls still shaking with aftershocks.

He pulls out of you incredibly slowly, as if he’s careful to leave all of his fluids inside of you. He plugs your whole with his thumb as soon as he pulls out, but it only stops the inevitable from happening for a few seconds before his cum starts to spill out past it.

“You- you came so much,” you’re not sure if you exclaim it in wonder or horror, realizing what you had both just done.

He smirks. “Yeah, baby. And you’re gonna keep it inside of you for me, mmkay?” He plays with the cum that drips out of your hole, coating his fingers with it before pushing it back inside of you.

“This pussy’s mine now.”

The aftercare is a blur in your almost passed-out state. Blade picks up your lace panties and rides them back up your legs for you, to “keep his cum inside of you” and then says something about getting a plug. He makes you drink water, bringing a glass with a straw to you. The last thing you remember is him undoing your wrists of his belt before falling asleep.

As he lies next to you, Blade’s own voice echoes through his mind. Just a hole, made to be bred.

He knows you’ll likely take it as something he said in the moment. Well, it doesn’t really matter how you take it. But he realizes, it’s the first time he’s ever lied to you.

As cruel as Blade is, he believes in honesty. Maybe that’s the cruellest part about him.

But even as he lies next to your passed-out figure in bed, applying tincture to your wrists with such gentleness he’d never reveal to you in your waking state… He can feel the power that surges through you.

He presses his palm just under where your diaphragm would be, where the power is the strongest. Even in its unawakened state, even to Blade himself who is only half-awakened, remembering just parts of his past lives, even he can feel it. The way the power courses in waves, pulsing inside of you like a second heartbeat.

A/N: it’s a miracle this fic didn’t have a daddy kink in it but the next blade fic i write definitely will LMAOO

#blade smut #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #hsr smut #honkai star rail #hsr blade #blade x reader smut #blade x f!reader #blade x f!reader smut #hsr blade smut #blade star rail #blade hsr #blade honkai #star rail

830 notes · View notes

ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater · 4 months

Text

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna X Reader)

This is part of my Royal AU, the first I'm writing for it, there may be inconsistencies between each different fic set within the universe including but not limited to which damn clan does Sukuna belong to, but I'm sure it'll be fine :))

also i hope the family tree kinda makes sense, i can make a separate post showing the different clans and their family trees if needed

Warnings: mentions of an affair, brief mentions of abuse but nothing explicit

Word count: 3.1k

When the boy first showed up everything had been good, a new son had been born into the Itadori clan, the royal family was stronger than ever. This boy threatened to bring all of that down simply by existing. Jin Itadori was not known for his mercy, often ruthlessly leading swathes of knights into battles and leaving none alive, but this boy was no ordinary enemy. His own son, illegitimate, but still his flesh and blood. His wife said nothing when he brought the screaming baby into the nursery that was only meant for one, placing him beside Yuji in his large crib.

Kaori Itadori simply accepted what had been given to her and raised the boy as her own, despite the neglect and clear favoritism shown from Jin to his alleged twin sons. The two were almost identical despite the fact they had different mothers, which was how the lie was able to be carried so easily through their lives. Ryomen knew, he had always known, and he’d hated almost everyone for it. The only people he couldn’t truly even pretend to hate were his adopted brothers, and he let everyone know this vehemently, shirking his duties and often hiding away from elaborate dinner parties or balls he did not want to attend.

Yuji’s heart broke for his brother, and of the five Itadori boys, only the eldest Choso knew of the predicament underlying the twins. The youngest, Eso and Kechizu, were born one after the other, three years apart, with significant health complications and therefore rarely appeared in public. The elder three were fiercely protective, especially Ryomen who’d had a taste of his father’s neglect and despised that Jin had turned it on his youngest sons. None of the three wanted to burden their younger brothers, they’d been told that the pair might not live to become adults, so they had always made sure the boys were well fed and happy.

Ryomen suffered in silence. His teachers could not quell his anger, the best sorcerers warned of his growing cursed energy levels, but nothing was ever done. Nothing really could be done. By the time he turned nineteen he was undoubtedly the strongest of the Itadori boys, and his father was adamantly trying to wed him off to a different kingdom. Ryomen didn’t care, the faster he got out of Khoccadia the better in his opinion. He spent his days training in combat with the knights, including the captains of both the Shadow and Blood units, Megumi Fushiguro, and Takuma Ino.

Megumi Fushiguro interested him, the man was his age, his twin brother’s personal bodyguard, and he had the inherited cursed technique of the Zenin clan, the royal family of a neighbouring kingdom. His unit, aptly named the Shadows, were a small close knit group of Shikigami summoners, led by a wielder of the undisputed king of Shikigami techniques. This made him both an outsider and a refugee, having been forced to prove his loyalty a thousand times over, including regaining the trust of the royal family after his technique was revealed during an attack on the kingdom where he had to unleash his power to protect Yuji.

The other captain, Takuma Ino, wasn’t as interesting or close to him, but still a formidable ally and opponent, having first trained under the royal sorcerer Kento Nanami, before his technique proved to be more useful on a battlefield than overseeing curses. Ryomen often found himself sitting with the pair post-sparring, looking out over the training grounds within the castle walls, and asking himself where he would go if he decided to run. He knew he wouldn’t get far, his cursed energy was much too unique, Nanami would be able to find him with no trouble. His only way out would be this arranged marriage, and he had to be sure it was far far away from here.

This is what eventually lead to Jin Itadori hosting a ball and inviting many of the leaders of nearby nations to attend with their daughters, royal, political, and otherwise. Few invites were sent out past the neighbouring nations, but Ryomen had to be sure, so he had insisted under the cover of lies that his father’s orders had the invitations sent further. When the day of the ball arrived, Ryomen was reluctantly dolled up in a luxurious maroon suit, his hair styled with earrings and cufflinks to match. When he met up with Choso and Yuji, he saw they were dressed similarly to him, but Yuji’s suit is a deep pink and Choso’s a dark purple.

“Don’t we just look a treat,” Ryomen huffed, reaching up and adjusting Yuji’s collar slightly. “They were chosen by mother,” Choso looks away and Ryomen finds himself almost apologising. It wasn’t her fault, she was a victim of the system just as he was, but he shakes it off. “You okay?” Yuji mumbles, giving his brother the same outfit once over. The twins had always known what would make each other look the best, Ryomen let him fuss with his hair a little before swatting his hands away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay, I can’t wait to get the hell out of here so I never have to see him again,” He growls. Choso checks his watch as they approach the upstairs entry to the ballroom, the laughter and chatter behind it dying down as someone announces their arrival.

“I hope you find someone,” Yuji squeezes his hand for a brief moment before Ryomen can pull away or protest, dropping his hand before the door swings open and the three of them are revealed to the eyes below. Choso in the centre with his brothers flanking, there are smiles of all kinds as they descend the stairs. Some genuine, some scheming, others that don’t quite reach the eyes of their owners.

Ryomen Itadori doesn’t get nervous, but in this moment he finds his eyes searching for Kaori Itadori. She returns his gaze from her place on the ballroom throne and nods once. This party is for him, it’s his ticket out of here, and it almost feels to him like she’s lending him her strength. The strength to do what she never could. When the three of them reach the bottom of the stairs, his brothers disperse into the crowd to find dance partners, and Ryomen finds himself alone surveying what he can see. The only clan tattoos he recognises around the edges are those belonging to the Zenin clan, the Gojo clan, the Kamo clan and that of the Creyarean district, which is a political power and not run by a royal or empirical clan.

There are a few tattoos he does not recognise, he assumes from further out on the continent, and one in particular draws his gaze. A kindly looking couple, king and queen, with matching filagree tattoos over their facial features, most prominent on their jawline, cheeks, across the nose and in the centre of their foreheads. No other family has tattoos that bold, the closest in comparison is the Kamo clan with a jagged X over the right eye, and he finds himself curious as to their origins. “Brother! I’d like you to meet someone,” Yuji’s voice suddenly cuts into his wandering thoughts and he scoffs, “Leave me alone Yuji,” He grunts, but his brother barges into his space, his mouth right next to his ear as he utters the words that could be Ryomen’s salvation.

“Her family comes from miles away, three kingdoms over!” Yuji hisses. His gaze flits to the girl who stands holding Yuji’s hand, looking like she’s just been dragged at a brisk Itadori walk across half the ballroom (Which she had been). His brother drops her hand as he steps back and presents her, “Allow me to introduce Y/n L/n, of the Iqorian Empire,” Unmarried, she does not bear her parents tattoos, but there are two thick black bands around both her wrists which could be a hint at early clan tattoos that don’t decorate the face.

She curtseys and he feels his demeanour soften slightly, taking her hand which still hovers unsure before her to press a light kiss to the back of it. He keeps his face painfully neutral as he studies her features, her e/c eyes traveling back up to meet his. “Lovely to meet you, Miss L/n, Ryomen Itadori,” He introduces himself politely, though he knows that she must already know who he is, given his brother has a tendency to babble. She uses her free hand to fix her h/c hair before giving him a polite smile, “Some party your parents cooked up, is the potential marriage for diplomatic purposes?” She asks. He clenches his jaw slightly, his gaze scanning the crowd as he instinctively pulls her slightly closer.

His father’s face is dark and sinister, his eyes locked on Ryomen but his mind elsewhere, “You could say that,” He replies, “But I would say it’s freedom,” Her eyes widen and he steels himself, she must be able to sense the years of neglect and abuse on him, he knows he reeks of it, but if she does she doesn’t mention it, “I see,” She murmurs, “Well, would you like to dance?” He looks at her like she’s grown an extra head for a moment, but Yuji punches his side and he blinks, “Yes yes, of course, that would be nice,” His words drift away and he becomes eternally grateful for the dancing lessons Kaori forced him to endure as he leads the girl out into the centre of the dance floor.

The night passes by quicker than he would have liked it to, despite stepping into the ballroom like a caged wolf with the taste of freedom on his tongue. He comes to learn from the girl his brother introduced to him that the royal couple he didn’t recognise, with the outlandish filagree tattoos, are her parents, and he is hooked from that moment on. You of course know there is something he is hiding, but his sudden interest in your clan tattoos brings a soft smile to your face as you look over to your parents. They seem to be overjoyed that you’ve caught the attention of the Itadori son up for grabs, but you know there’s more to it considering the fact that he should be the second in line, and yet is being married out of his family into another.

“I am certain we will be seeing one another again, Miss Y/n,” He murmurs as he presses one last kiss to the back of your hand, his fingers tracing one of the black lines on your wrist. You grab his arm before he can turn away, “Ryomen,” You murmur in response, “Sir, are you in trouble here?” He does not reply, his gaze is hard, but you feel a lack of response is enough for you to fill in the gaps.

He’s not welcome in his family, and you’re determined to get him out and then find out why, even if it means ruining any diplomatic relationship Iqoria could have with Khoccadia. You omit the fears you hold close to your chest when your parents demand to know how your night went, they were watching and already knew you were the only one Ryomen Itadori spent his night with. This is a golden opportunity, he is already well known throughout the continent as the strongest Itadori son, he would be a priceless addition to any family, and nobody else seems to be questioning the fact his father doesn’t seem to want him to stay.

A foolish decision, considering the fact his cursed energy swamped the entire ball from the moment he entered the room, just barely discernible from that of your parent’s royal sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, who came to meet with other royal sorcerers in attendance. You are reunited with Suguru Geto, your personal guard and the Captain of the Iqorian Guards, after conversing with your parents. He escorts you back to the room provided to you within the Itadori’s castle for the night, “I take it the night went well, your highness?” He asks as he follows you in.

You find yourself unable to respond, chewing on your thumbnail as you sit at the dresser, leaning your head on your free hand. Lost in thought you don’t hear him approach until his hand is on your shoulder, “What ails you my lady?” “He’s tormented,” You murmur, “Prince Ryomen, he’s trapped, and something is very wrong with this family,” His face reflected in the mirror is one of soft confusion, and you find you can’t hide anything from him. He’s trained you your whole life, and you trust him sometimes more than you trust your parents, he’s like a second brother to you, “I asked if he was in trouble, and I fear a lack of response or denial is enough to ascertain the danger, I must marry him if he is to survive with his humanity intact,”

Geto frowns and grips your shoulder slightly, “I will call for your maids, this stays between us,” He announces, “Sleep well your highness,” “Where are you going?” “To let your parents know I am in full support of this marriage, he’s incredibly strong after all,” His face is sly as a fox and you find yourself speechless, “He’ll be a great asset if we give him the chance,” Once he is gone you find comfort in the knowledge of his support, thus allowing you to slumber in peace.

When the morning arrives, you find yourself swept up in preparations for the wedding, which you find after questioning the closest maid is to be held that very day. His father must be desperate to get rid of him before he becomes a problem, and you’re more than willing to let Kaori Itadori and her maids along with yours fawn over you and dress you in the finest white dress you’ve ever seen. You’re understandably nervous, your parents dropped by only once that morning to tell you what you already knew about the conversation they shared with Ryomen’s parents, but they also said once the wedding was over you’d be leaving for home almost immediately.

This was, surprisingly, not the most shocking thing you’d heard all morning. It fell just behind the fact that it would be Geto and not your father who would be walking you down the aisle, a few of your closest maids acting as bridesmaids. This is to go along with a Khoccadian custom involving the parents of both spouses, while also incorporating the ‘giving away’ portion from Iqorian marriages. Ryomen’s mother wraps her arms around you quickly outside the throne room before she pushes a bouquet of red roses into your hands, tears in her eyes, “Take care of him,” She whispers, her eyes intense and so full of sadness you think you may cry too. You nod, words escaping you as you turn to the throne room, the music floating out at you different to the wedding music back home.

It dawns on you as the doors open to reveal you to the crowd that you don’t know Ryomen Itadori. You don’t know his favourite food, you don’t know his favourite hobbies, you don’t know what he likes in a partner, you don’t even know what his relationship with his brothers is like. It’s too late to wonder, as you clutch the bouquet in your hand and link your other arm with Geto who has just appeared at your side. His presence helps to calm your nerves, but you’re still antsy as you approach the front of the room where Ryomen waits for you, looking equally antsy but for a different reason.

You know he wants out, and you’re his ticket, you just have to get through the next hour of formalities. The crowd is never truly silent during your ceremony, there’s always a low hum of chatter, but it doesn’t disturb or deter the continuance of the ceremony. You can feel Jin Itadori’s eyes on you almost the entire time and you endeavour to ignore him as best you can, focusing on the feeling of Ryomen’s hands in yours. You take the time before and during vows to study his face, the way he scrunches his nose sometimes or crosses his eyes to make you smile. It works, and he squeezes your hands to add reassurance to the moment, until finally you’re pronounced as husband and wife, and without even a second thought or hesitation he pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours.

You’re breathless, your hands clutching his biceps, barely hanging onto the threads of your discipline before he pulls you into him for a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” He mutters against your ear, kissing the side of your head as the crowd cheers and his words are lost in the cacophony of sounds. You let your eyes speak a thousand words as you meet his gaze, smiling softly before finally speaking, “You’re safe now,” His shoulders relax as the two of you turn to walk back down the aisle. Once out of the throne room, his brothers are there to greet him, and Yuji hugs him tightly, “Brother…” He murmurs, “Don’t forget us, you understand?” He grips the back of Ryomen’s head and presses his forehead to his twins, “Promise me?”

Ryomen blinks sadly, “I’ll come back for you,” He whispers. The two younger boys crowd between the twins and Ryomen holds them, the taller one seems quite physically weak, and the shorter one has not opened his eyes, but he holds them close. “How does Ryomen L/n sound?” He asks softly, “Fitting?” Yuji smiles, “For you? It’s perfect,” Just before the two of you can be whisked away by your maids, he grabs his elder brother’s hand, “Choso,” He forces the man to look him in the eyes, “Look after them, don’t let them end up like him, or me for that matter,” He growls, “Swear on your life,”

Choso nods, “I swear on my life,” Ryomen nods one final time, “I hope we’re all better people when we see each other again,” He says, words meant only for his brothers that you catch while ushering your maids away from the moment. His hand on your back is the only warning you get before he’s nudging you along the tidal wave of people who head to the main entrance.

A grand exit, the staircase long, carriages await at the bottom, and Ryomen’s freedom. A price paid a thousand times over, a dream finally allowed to come true, and a man desperately clinging to the bare threads of his humanity. The world gives him a lifeline in the form of a girl second in line to her kingdom’s throne, and he finds he remembers why he endured staying alive all those years. His real family, his only family, his brothers - and maybe even revenge.

twins sukuna/itadori lives rent free in my head because of this app so here's my royal spin on it :) I hope you enjoyed

part 2 here!

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #yuji itadori #choso kamo #satoru gojo #megumi fushiguro #kento nanami #suguru geto #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x reader

186 notes · View notes

andromeda-nova-writing · 4 months

Text

My Favorite Actor Is…

Fem!Reader

Summary: Infatuation over a film star. It’s a very common thing to have happen. There’s not much to be done over it besides talking about said infatuation over that actor. And if there is jealousy to be had at least handle it as healthy as possible.

Words: 975

AN: I wrote almost all of this on my phone as I was dealing with the holidays when it was written. Just when I thought I would have time to myself to edit the fic and make sure things made sense, I got a new puppy. So it was either edit the fic and be unsure if things made sense or get help. Thanks @milkstore. You are the best. Puppies are tiring but very cute.

“Ayaka had me and Thoma go with her to see a film earlier today,” Y/N explained as she poured herself and Ayato a cup of tea. The two of them were still warming up after coming back to the estate from Inazuma City. The winter air had been so chilly with flurries landing on them but not sticking to the ground.

“Did the three of you enjoy yourselves?” He took a towel trying to dry off his hair. Even though it was flurries, being out there long enough meant that two of them were a little soaked. They had hurried in quickly changing into something dry leaving just hair affected by the snow.

“Yes. It was quite exciting. But I did have one gripe with it.” Ayato could hear the disappointment in her voice changing so fast from the happy one she had started the conversation with.

“What would that be?” He left the towel wrapped around his shoulders to avoid his hair dripping. Ayato grabbed the teacup and took a sip embracing the warmth it brought him.

“There was a new actor in the film. He had the most gorgeous eyes but only had a few lines of dialog.” Y/N rolled her eyes before she frowned. “It was an absolute waste of perfect talent. And to make matters worse, that's the only film he's in.”

Ayato remained silent before letting out a single word in judgment, “Oh.” Now he wasn't one to let jealousy affect him. That was a silly emotion filled with insecurities that he didn't have. But to say he wasn't the slightest bit affected by her words was a lie. One that he would tell because who was he to dump feelings he should process on his own onto his lover.

Any understanding of his emotions was ignored. “Ayaka had told me he even turned down a role that would have given him more screen time. It’s such a crime really. What I would give to see him on screen for those two hours rather than just two minutes.” He could practically see the hearts in her eyes.

Ayato didn’t think there would come a day where he’d be annoyed even if it was just slightly by the look she had in her eyes. There wasn’t anything to feel threatened by though. If she had to stand by his side while someone tried to openly flirt with him while he and Y/N were holding hands, he could at the least let her fantasize about someone she would never meet.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and he will get cast in another movie.” He did his best to remain engaged in the conversation. When he looked down at his cup filled with the most gorgeous green tea he hated the reflection that looked back.

“I wish. Sadly he’s too busy with other projects to even think about acting.” Ayato enjoyed the small victory he had gained even though Y/N was upset at the fact she was telling him. Who knew her love of the arts would betray him?

“Well just be glad that he was able to appear in this film.” He comforted her. Maybe the lack of rest was getting to him if such a disgusting emotion as jealousy was trying to make an appearance.

“I am. I do wish I could at least meet the actor and tell him how well his performance was. Thoma said you’d be able to make that happen.” Y/N had placed an empty teacup on the table. He hadn’t even noticed that she was drinking it this entire time.

All Ayato knew was Thoma who he thought was filled with so much loyalty had betrayed him unknowingly earlier. Now he had to compete for his wife’s attention with some mystery actor that he would do his best to never let her meet. “If they are busy it might be easier to get an autograph.” He hoped that Ayaka would be okay with him using her as a way to talk through these emotions later.

“Really? But even Ayaka agreed that he would find the time to talk.” Y/N spoke with a frown that hid the smirk she really had. Not that Ayato could notice at the moment.

How do you ground your adult younger sister and man who grew up almost like a second sibling to him? “That’s not guaranteed dear. It’s a bit of wishful thinking. Ayaka and Thoma don’t even know the man. Who even is this actor anyway?” His composure was finally beginning to break. He wasn’t proud of it.

Y/N laughed. “I didn’t even tell you the movie we saw. I’m sorry. The movie was The Two Musketeers.” It wasn’t often that Ayato felt embarrassed. “The actor was a man named Kamisato Ayato. You sure I won’t be able to meet him?”

It was at moments like this that he was reminded why he and Y/N had wed. It was also moments like this that reminded him one of the reasons they wed was that they both enjoyed a bit of mischief and teasing each other now and then. It was something that lately he had been catching her off guard with. And here he was getting a taste of his own medicine at the moment.

“Y/N.”

“Yes.” She answered with a laugh.

“I would prefer if you would try to not make me jealous of myself.” Ayato requested with a sigh.

“You know I was wondering when you would catch on.”

“It’s been a long day. A long week.” He explained. She could see the tiredness on his face.

“Why don’t we get my favorite actor to bed then instead of trying to hold a conversation about the day?”

“That would be smart.”

#kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #ayato x reader

143 notes · View notes

starlostseungmin · 10 months

Text

LIE TO ME, LMH.

✰ pairing: idol!minho x gn!reader

✰ genre: angst

✰ warnings: profanity, cheating, allusions to sex but not executed, just pain, grammatical errors and typos ahead. not proofread.

✰ word count: 1.5k

✰ song used: lie to me by 5 Seconds of Summer ー the afterglow series collab. ♡

✰ notes: thank you so much @comet-falls for making this collab possible! it was a challenging fic for me to write but i enjoyed it so much. please, to all who are reading the series, make sure to leave feedbacks and reblog the works of our wonderful authors because they deserve it for their hard work! don't forget it.

✰ series taglist: @fxckedupbitch ,, @rachabreathing ,, @haneuljisung ,, @mm-apples ,, @goblinracha ,, @maknaeswrld ,, @deyareasstuff ,, @michbang02 ,, @unsweetenedpeatea

There’s nothing wrong about breaking up.

But to Minho, you were just so hard to forget. Maybe it was his fault that he blames himself whenever he thinks about you. Why did it happen? Where did he go wrong? Where did you go wrong? For the past three years, you have been so happy. Who would have thought that your relationship would end with one repetitive mistake?

“How many times did you do it?”

They say that the strongest relationship doesn’t depend on how long it is, but it depends on a person’s loyalty and faithfulness. You had seen a lot of it. He cheated because she wasn’t enough, she cheated because he’s stupid, he cheated because she’s not attractive, she cheated because he is just treating her like everyone else, there are a lot of reasons. You don’t know if they’re telling the truth and you have no idea how many times they did it behind your back. The relationship you build with him doesn’t go any different.

“Did you love me?”

There are questions unanswered. Lies. Happiness. Satisfaction. The love and domesticity. But a relationship is not complete without suffering and pain. Tears. Drunken messages and calls. 2 am fights and other bullshits. And just like everyone else, you and Minho had the same. It’s just that, one just had to take the ties between. You can cut it in half or he can just rip it apart.

There’s nothing wrong about breaking up.

You just did it late.

“How long has it been?”

The wind blows as it dances with the branches of the trees around the park. It is cold and your clothes aren’t enough to warm you up. But what feels more freezing is the relationship that turned into stone after years of being genuine. Minho sat beside you on the bench, watching the scenery together with the Namsan Tower standing a few miles away with the city lights glowing on a dark horizon. None of you decided to talk after every question. One had been keeping the answer.

“I saw you.” A pause. “You were happy with them, and I thought I was making a name in your life,” There was a pain in that smile. One that could hide all the aftermath of what they did and as for youーnothing ever changed. “I went to New York to see you, even had to stay with you for a few days because I know you wouldn’t be home for at least a few months,”

“You didn’t have to do that,” One said.

“I did,” A pause again. “I did because I love you and I want to see you. How long have you been hiding this from me?”

There were tears visible as it streams down to your cheeks. You loved him dearly, but you couldn’t stay like this forever and suffer. You admit your relationship with him had been crucial for the past few months, his life was busier than ever as you work in your family’s business. It wasn’t an issue before, the lack of time was not to blame一maybe it was or you were never really meant for each other.

Or it was caused by a third party.

It’s funny how the night changes when it started with Minho who was so head over heels as much as you. But when you woke up from a dream, everything fell differently.

“I’m sorry,” He said.

“Did you ever love me?” You asked, trying not to sound petty.

“I did,” Minho said. “I loved you so much!”

“Then how can you cheat on me?!”

There was no answer again but pure silence. Nobody dared to talk, but you are sure it’s over for the both of you. He seemed happy with his new one but you feel the opposite. There are words that you wanted to yell at him, scream at him and tell him how fucked up this situation was. But there was none. It’s over, and if you were smart, you’ll forget about this and move on. Words come out makes it easy but how could you do it in just one snap?

And now, you couldn’t get something from him.

Even those nights when you were lying naked on his bed as he kissed your body filled with warmth. The I love yous between heavy breaths and kisses. The way he made you feel his love and how your brain settled to think of him, and just him. Or those days when he would take you out on dates and escort you to your favorite places, cook for you, attend to his cats with you, and take care of you when you get sick. Minho was perfect, he was perfect, everything was perfect.

He welcomed you into his arms as you cried harder. It hurts so much. You wondered why, how, and when. But all he said was, “Sorry,”

Bullshit.

“I bet he still thinks about you,” You heard Seungmin say beside you.

“No,” You smiled bitterly. “He doesn’t,” But you weren’t sure.

It is the night of the event that you were personally invited by the boys. It was a party to celebrate their success in completing their world tour and the awards they received from their recent album. And that closure with Minho that happened a few nights before has led to no changes at all. Seungmin patted your back as he gave you a small smile. He is your protector tonight and asked for a separate table from the 8 of them. Jisung also joined in.

The staff already served the food but you don’t seem to have an appetite to devour it. Seungmin noticed how tired and exhausted you were from the breakup, and he knew he couldn’t do anything but keep you company. He understood how big of a jerk his hyung is, and still furious about why he had the guts to cheat on you. As if something changed overnight.

“How long did you know?” You asked him.

“4 months,” Seungmin answered as you gave him a nod.

“Y/n, we did everything to stop him,” Jisung butted in but you just shake your head.

“Thanks Jisung but, it doesn’t matter now,” You smiled at him.

You looked at Minho from afar as he shared conversations with the CEO and his new partner. He looks happy, more than he ever was when he was still with you. And there, you wished you never started that relationship. You wished you never met him that night at the animal shelter. The pain he left still bothers you until 3 am. You couldn’t sleep at all, overthinking and everyone close to you knows you’re not happy.

Seungmin held your hand when he sees tears running down your cheeks. It is such a pity to be this sad at an event when the public knows he is dating that person but your relationship was private. There are thoughts you wanted to tell him but just like what happened at the park that night, all he said was sorry. Seungmin pulled you into his arms and let you cry as Minho stole a glance at your table. You knew you are going to spend the next few months taking care of yourself and cleaning up the mess he made out of you. He licked his lower lip and contemplated to carry on another conversation with you again.

“That damn asshole,” Jisung said clenching his jaw when Minho asked to talk to you.

“Let them,” Seungmin said.

And there you found yourself with him at the parking lot, standing face to face.

“I have questions,” You started. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever get some answers from you. Sometimes I just don’t want to ask them.” You added, laughing bitterly in between. “Are you happy?”

Minho bit his lip and took a deep breath before opening up, “I am,” He said as you gave him a nod.

“After what you did, you are happy?” You asked again but before he could even speak up, a bunch of words followed from you. “You know what? I think you’re just a pure asshole who doesn’t care about me even if you showed affection. I still can’t believe you could turn your back away and the next morning you are already seeing someone else while you are still with me.”

“But I loved you!” He argued.

“Exactly!” You cried again. “But how about now? No, right? I’ve been dying to know but at the same time, it’s pretty stupid of me to think that you still love me because I still love you. But I’m not asking you to take me back. Just tell me you still love me, for the last time, please? Lie to me,” Your sobs were uncontrollable now and Minho just stood there, watching the mess he made out of you.

“I love you,” He said, but sure there was hesitation before he spoke.

“Thanks,” You smiled bitterly. “I hope you live happily,” You added turning away.

And that was it.

He lied.

It is over.

official taglist: @lix-ables ,, @zoe8stay ,, @gwynsapphire ,, @cherryhanji ,, @seungly ,, @sleepyleeji ,, @ppiri-bahng ,, @snow-pegasus ,, @milkybonya ,, @l3visbby ,, @djeniryuu ,, @tangylemonade ,, @hwan-g ,, @awkwardnesshabitat ,, @chrispychans ,, @therealhyunjingf ,, @hyunverse ,, @lino-jagiyaa ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @svngiem ,, @foxinnie8 ,, @ohish ,, @alyszaen ,, @dreamingsmile ,, @skzfelixlove ,, @stealanity ,, @minluvly ,, @flirtyskzbutterfly ,, @iadorethemskz

383 notes · View notes

nocturnesmoon · 8 days

Text

Your guard dog

Tags: mild dark content(?), gender-neutral reader, random little story of the day that I'll probably never turn into a fledged out fic cuz I have too many projects, but it's on the list-

Simon has always been an honest man.

It's something he prides himself in. He may be tall, dark, terrifying to most around him, but he would rather have something horrible happen to him, than outright lie on purpose, especially to you.

When you first met, it went how it usually goes for people that are unfortunate enough to be in his presence. You were polite, as much as anyone else, not too interested in the big off-putting soldier that lurks in the back of the room.

Simon had never thought that you would stick around, nor did he expect that your tipping point would be an innocent birthday gift. You had been so enamoured by the fact he had actually listened to the things you said, and observed your actions, enough to give you probably the most accurate gift you've received in a long time.

One thing led to another, and years later the two of you find yourselves in a committed relationship.

There are a lot of things you can say about Simon. A common denominator is that he really has never knowingly lied to you. A feat you find impressive, gathered from earlier partners. He has his secrets, things in his past that he wishes to keep buried still, but he never lies to you.

Whenever you ask, he answers.

It's how it's always been.

The fact doesn't change when he then does things in secret. If you ask where he's been, he'll answer you honestly, if you ask what he's been doing he answers honestly, whether you like the answer or not.

He's always been good to you that way. If he ever catches a whiff of jealousy from you, he waits for you to come to him. You'll ask about his doings, he'll answer you accordingly, calmly, and quench whatever feelings pile up in your head. He knows he never has to stress about it, because all his actions are in servitude to you.

Whenever he goes on deployment, he knows how you miss him, how you wish you could be there with him, though it'd be dangerous for you. So he brings you things back, things of his loyalty, things that you would want and cherish, (Ignoring the fact that you'd cherish practically anything he gives you.)

When he's home he's even more devoted to you. Follows you around like a pup in need of attention, a pup that transforms into a fierce guard dog the moment you leave the house. Even if he tells you that his job is dangerous, you never fully get why he's so protective of you, like someone was going to take you away when he looks the other way. In many ways you don't mind it, it pays off having a big threatening soldier at your back to keep creeps away.

As nice as it is to have him though, he's not always there, and despite how you trust him, you don't like the dark look in his eyes whenever you tell him about an encounter you had with some creepy person trying to hit on you.

Once when you were idly cuddling on the couch, one rainy Saturday, you had playfully asked if he would ever kill for you. You hadn't expected a serious answer, maybe you had even expected him to scold you for asking such a question, given his job and having to deal with death in his life in that way. You hadn't expected for him to say yes so determinedly, a little too sure of it.

It's not the first time you've noticed odd behaviour from him. His overprotective nature can get a bit overbearing at times, he doesn't want you near any remotely dangerous object, occasionally he'll even get pissy about you using kitchen knives. God forbid you do accidentally hurt yourself on some object he told you not to use, with a grumpy attitude he'll patch you up, scolding you mildly, and the next time you go to use the same object it's mysteriously vanished or out of reach for you.

He has his own little policy for you as well, any and all problems you face, you come to him with. You found it nice, finally having such a tentative partner that listened so carefully. You hadn't expected that he was going to make most of your problems disappear on top of that. It was simple things at first. The coffee machine broke, he removes it and gifts you a new one. There's a thing at work you find frustrating, well the task is soon gone mysteriously. Even with himself, he does a thing that's your pet peeve, he changes it, makes the problem disappear.

It starts out small, and then it gets a bit weirder. You have an argument with a family member? The next time you see them they apologize profusely, and the matter is dropped, though they seem rattled. You think your neighbour is rude? Well look at that, they're moving out very, very soon.

You don't truly start to question it, before you notice the co-worker you complained about, disappeared without notice.

You try to hint at it to Simon, to subtly ask him if he had a finger in it. His answer is what terrifies you more, "careful what you ask of me, darling." You should be careful what questions you ask him what you tell him, because Simon is an honest man. You ask, he answers.

It makes you revaluate what you let him know, you start keeping minor problems to yourself, things or people that annoy you are reserved for your mind. He notices of course, he understands his darling is nervous of his actions, but he needs you to understand what he is doing, he is doing for you.

He starts figuring out your problems behind your back. You don't even need to tell him anymore, he will always know. There isn't anywhere you could go where he wouldn't reach you, where he wouldn't keep you safe and protected. You're his, just as he's yours.

Your true breaking point comes when the police shows up at your work place. They question you about the co-worker that had left work, not long after having an argument with you. You learn that this person hasn't been seen by anyone for several months.

You stomp home, knowing Simon is the only person that could've had anything to do with it. Your questions are met by a dark chuckle, he isn't even taking his own actions serious, not the way you're framing them. You plead with him to stop, to keep his work and your life completely separate.

His answer leaves you with nothing, "I can't promise you that darling, I'm doing this for you. You're mine."

Your only choice is to adapt, you don't ask the questions because you won't like the answers.

And when he goes out late at night without a word, coming back in the morning with blood on his hands, you wash it off gently, and bite your tongue.

Reminder that requests are open if you've got an idea you want written.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, love ya<3

#noctmoon fics #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost x you

85 notes · View notes

jellieland · 5 months

Text

This is somewhat inspired by some of the fics @theminecraftbee has written.

---

Two figures watch, from a nebulous nowhere, as Scar stands, alone, in the remains of his destroyed shop.

"I'm sorry," he says, mournfully, to no one.

"You Know," says the first figure, "I Really Wasn't Convinced When You Pitched This One."

Scar does not react. He cannot hear them.

"Yes," says the second, with an air of long-suffering patience. "I Do Know. You Were Very Vocal About It."

"...I really wanted to try and make some friends, this time." Scar, simultaneously right in front of them and a great distance away, sighs and looks up at the sky. "Oh, well. Nothing to be done about it now!"

"I Have Come Around To It," says the first.

"Good," says the second. "I Knew You Would."

They watch Scar start to sort through the mess.

"They Forget They Have A Choice," says the first. "It Is Fascinating."

They move on.

The move on to ash.

Skizz and Tango and Bigb stand right in the thick of it, quiet.

"You try to do one nice thing," says Skizz.

His hands curl into fists. He glares at the smoldering remains of the heart in front of him.

"You try to do ONE nice thing!" he yells, and punches one of the last remaining bits of wood.

Brittle from the fire, it breaks.

"Yeah, well! I guess this is why we don't," says Tango, resigned.

"It was always gonna happen eventually," says Bigb, voice level.

"They Always Try," says the first. "They Always Keep Trying."

"Yes," says the second. "They Chase Each Other In Circles Until All Of Them Are Dead. They Give Themselves Their Own Tasks."

"That Is Not What I Meant," says the first. "But That Is Also True."

They watch the three members of the Heart Foundation stand, for a while, in silence.

And they move on.

They move over to the mesa.

Martyn is standing inside his house, that used to be Jimmy's house too, facing the three chests on the wall labelled "TIMMY", "MUMBO" and "MARTYN".

He is talking animatedly, and gesturing. "-and I kept trying to get them to follow me there, but nobody was taking the bait. Honestly, you guys would've laughed at me. But it-"

They let the rambling fade into the background.

"A Good Dog," says the first.

"Yes," says the second. "He Does As He Is Told."

"-and I've honestly been feeling a bit left out today, isn't that funny? But- Bdubs said, he said he would join me next week, so-"

They move on.

They move to the cobblestone castle, in the side of the hill.

Grian is cooing over a small magma cube named Etho's Dishwasher.

Cleo and Etho are leaning against the staircase watching him.

"Are you both alright?" asks Cleo.

"Sure, I'm fine," says Etho.

"Me?" says Grian, turning around. "Oh, I'm good, I was being a total coward. I just hung around at the top of that tower by the Secret Keeper for ages and none of them ever thought to look up."

"Really?" asks Cleo, amused. "Some of them I would expect that of, but I'd think Gem would be a bit more on the ball."

"Well, apparently not," says Grian.

He turns back to the magma cube, and they settle into quiet.

"I Would Have Expected More Of The Alliances To Have Fallen Apart, By Now," says the first.

"Loyalty Is At Its Most Interesting When It Is Stretched," says the second. "These Three Know It Will Never Last. They Know That All Of Them Are Aware Of This. That Is Why They Are Still Here. They Know How Much They Can Care Without It Being A Lie. And Then Privately, They Care More Than That Anyway."

Eventually, Etho sighs. He looks tired.

He glances from Cleo, to Grian, and back, and after a moment of hesitation, speaks. "I, uh. I'm glad you two survived." He shifts awkwardly, and continues before they can respond. "I thought they were going to try and make me kill you, at one point, and- Grian, I don't know if you know this, but Cleo is scary when she's getting revenge. I did not want to have to worry about that."

Cleo laughs, slightly, and gives Etho a look of the deepest affection. "Well, I did die, is the thing, so thanks for reminding me of that."

"No, no, you knew what I meant! See, Grian? See what it's like?"

"Uh huh," says Grian, raising an eyebrow. "Well, thanks for not killing us."

Cleo frowns at him, suddenly curious. "Grian?" they ask. "Are you the only one who didn't die today?"

Grian opens his mouth, then stops to consider it.

"Or- no, wait. Martyn." says Cleo. "Well. Well done either way."

They watch the trio for a little longer, and then they move on.

They move to Scott.

He is alone, in a forest somewhere.

He is leant up against a cliff face, staring down at the floor.

"None Of Them Even Died, This Time," says the first. "Not Permanently."

"No," says the second. "It Was Controlled. Directed. There To Even The Playing Field. We Can Just Ask Them To Do That, Now, And They Will."

Scott draws his knees up to his chest, and rests his head on his arms.

He doesn't move, or shout, or cry.

He just stays there, quiet.

Eventually, they move on.

They move to the Secret Keeper.

Gem is standing there.

She is looking at it.

"If She Had Decided To Fail At The Start," says the first, "She Most Likely Would Have Lived. She Lost So Much More, Taking Things From Other People, Than The Nothing She Would Have Lost In Failure."

"Yes," says the second. "That Is My Favourite Part."

They watch her.

"Anyway," says the second, "She Would Not Do That."

"She Wouldn't?" asks the first.

"No," says the second. "She Understands Why It Is My Favourite Part."

Gem smiles.

"Thank you!" she says to the Secret Keeper. "That was a lot of fun!"

"You Are Welcome," says the second.

Blood on her hands, Gem turns and leaves, grin as bright as the sun.

They watch her go.

#secret life smp #secret life spoilers #goodtimeswithscar #skizzleman #tangotek #bigbstatz #martyn inthelittlewood #grian #zombiecleo #ethoslab #scott smajor #geminitay #I'll always be thinking a bit about the watchers as the audience.#and this sure was an episode.#my writing

169 notes · View notes

livelaughlovesubs · 1 month

Note

I felt like yandere raphael and gabriel would be the same as michael except you had higher chance manipulating these two into stopping their insanity by using god

Like maybe we could convinced raphael to stop killing others or else were going to abandon him too like god did and with gabriel since his entire fetish is literally god himself lets just say idk- say that he disappoints God since his killing/destroying God's other creation that god worked so hard to exist lol

I did want to add ‘the other angels are just like that’s at the end of the post, but when I thought about it, they weren’t the same.

I agree that they wouldn’t be that violent, thought I think you have to be smart to pull it off

The easiest one would definitely be rara, cuz he already likes ra-on and has been pushed away from god the most. Show him affection, tell him you love him, adore him and how you’ll love him forever if he did this and that. Mean, especially if it’s all a lie, but your survival is more important. Sometimes it’s important to be selfish. If you want more details, then that’s literally the fics ‘pitiful thing’ and ‘how pitiful’ I wrote of Raphael, of his fall from heaven.

Now Gabriel, Gabriel Gabriel… this is more tricky. Even if you tell him ‘god wouldn’t like that’, he won’t necessarily believe you. He got away with it for eons, why would god suddenly not like him devoting his love to him? Though if you showed him with examples he might think about it. Luckily he isn’t too narrow minded, that he won’t ever change his opinion. If he was your yandere, he’d absolutely despise you and love you. How dare you seduce him, and challenge his devotion to god? Your very existence is a shame, but he fell for you, and now his unyielding loyalty, that he will always only belong to god, was in danger. He might kill you because of it, just so he won’t keep getting distracted by you and his feelings.

If you want to manipulate him, it has to be subtle. That would take a long time. What I mean is judging him with hints. Imagine this, he is about to go down and kill the devils and so you just go, “oh, you are killing the creation god made? Shouldn’t you love everything god creates? Never mind, do what you want.” He will feel a bit annoyed, but he’ll see your point if you word it well. But again, that will take a while.

The other way, the more extreme one is to make him dependent on you. Like throw him off his grace, make him believe he isn’t worthy of god anymore. Without his wings and halo, he is no longer an angel that is worthy of god, that’s what he’d think. Then he’ll probably calm down and be a good boy. And, he’d feel like he doesn’t have a reason to live anymore, now that god won’t ever look at him. In those moments, treat him well, like Raphael, and he’ll probably fall for you even more. Maybe he’d even think of your kindness as god’s, because it’s similar how you ‘love’ him unconditionally, and do everything in his power to keep it this way. You are going to be his substitute, not that he wants it, he just couldn’t help his delusions. Then, you can finally manipulate him ^^ (and fuck him good)

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb gabriel #what in hell is bad gabriel #rara whb #whb raphael #what in hell is bad raphael

73 notes · View notes

beautifulbows924 · 7 days

Text

Common Ground

Act One!Astarion x Gender Neutral!Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 650+

A/N: This fic is sort of a combination of a few of the (comparatively) similar requests I received, along with one particular scene that’s been running wild and ping ponging around in my brain for far too long. I somehow convinced my partner (who could not care less about fanfiction, but adores me) to proofread this for me. So any complaints should definitely be addressed to them—as I was, unfortunately, far too sleep deprived to read over this anymore than I already have. As always, I hope you enjoy—feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments, and happy reading! :)

Warnings: Angst, intentional allusions to past SA (the circumstances are left purposefully vague), concerning both Astarion and the Reader, writer will often suddenly break off into unexpected poetic tangents, a smidge of fluff—if you squint, & perhaps a bittersweet ending (depending on how you interpret it?)

“Darling”, Astarion carefully poses his words, “Are you certain that you’re quite alright?”

You’re terrified. He can see it. Your pulse is visibly thumping beneath your skin, and there’s a tremor to your hands he’s certain wasn’t there before.

But why now?

You’ve told him you trust him, demanded the others leave if they weren’t willing to accept the gift that is his company, and mere seconds ago offered yourself to him as a meal—to what you, with both intimate knowledge and first hand experience, know is a hungry vampire.

He would be questioning your sense of self preservation, or alternatively, your sanity. If he wasn’t awed by just how quickly you’ve managed to sway your companions' loyalty.

It takes a moment for you to notice he’s asked you a question. But once you have, you nod.

He sighs, clicking his tongue at you. That vacancy behind your eyes, it’s unnerving, too familiar. “Don’t lie, it doesn’t suit you. What is it?”

Your gaze shifts, opting to search for what must be a rather interesting spot somewhere behind him.

Two breaths in.

Two breaths out.

Astarion falters. That may have been harsh—if your continued silence is anything to go by. Perhaps, he should have left the lie to rest.

“Dearest”, he works to intentionally soften his tone, shoving past the honeyed lump that rises in his throat, thickly coated with syrup. This little manipulation won’t be ending in a hand naively held between his as he leads you down unassuming crypt steps.

He knows that.

“If you’ve suddenly changed your mind about”, he gestures vaguely between himself and your neck, “I’m sure I can make do with whatever animals find themselves unluckily situated in this part of the forest.”

Humble or selfless certainly isn’t his favorite role to play, but if he wants you to be his personal guard, it seems he may have to make an exception.

“No!” You blurt out, swallowing thickly at the raised brow he sends in your direction, mouth suddenly very dry, “I—It’s not that. I swear to you.”

He tuts, “Ah, but it is something. Hmm?”

You nod again, frustrated tears building in your eyes as each attempt at an explanation falls flat.

“No, it couldn’t—it”, Astarion makes a rather exaggerated motion with both of his hands, clutching his chest in theatrical shock, “Was it Gale?”

You huff, but it’s more exasperated than annoyed.

The left side of his lips lifts.

You drag your own roughly between your teeth.

“Earlier, you made a comment about being quiet, not wanting to disturb my rest”, unsteady hands bury themselves in the fabric of your pants, “Those words, the sudden realization that someone…anyone could have access to my body like that while I slept”, your head slumps forward, “The last time—I can’t.”

Two breaths in.

Two breaths out.

Astarion’s fingers slot into place beneath your chin, tilting it upwards to look at him.

And suddenly all you can see are the differences.

Everything he is appears less forced. No longer are you merely an audience and he an actor, but equals. Those that have found a common ground built upon the cruelty of others.

Far too accustomed to it.

There’s a raw familiarity held within your expression Astarion can’t quite discern.

Perhaps, in another life, someone cared for him. Once. To look at him with such fondness.

He wonders if he deserved it, then.

He allows the hold he has on you to become lighter and lighter, until his arm returns to hang at his side.

You hear a weary sigh, then, gently, “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.”

A small smile flutters across your lips, light and without expectation. It’s a kindness he hasn’t yet learned how to navigate—and certainly has not earned, but he yearns for it all the same.

“Thank you, Astarion.”

BG3 Taglist: None yet!

#bg3 #Astarion x unnamed reader #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #baldur's gate 3 #vampire spawn astarion #gender neutral reader #astarion x you #astarion angst #trigger warning: sa #fluff and angst #bg3 fanfiction

80 notes · View notes

sweetlyskz · 1 month

Text

Strange||Chapter Three

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐨𝐭𝟕 × 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬?

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐀𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯||𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭||𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

PLEASE READ: I can't lie... It took me a minute to figure out where I wanted to go with this story- I CRIED! I hate that it took me so long to get this to you guys :(... Hopefully the updates will be a little more consistent. ALSO I did revamp the banner a bit- the other one just doesn't fit the direction I’m about to take with this fic so BE READY!

thanks for all the love <3

UNEDITED

Not once, did it ever occur to you to do a DNA test. You grew up in an orphanage, so obviously you didn’t really know your parents. Honestly, you had no reason to know them, to know if they're dead or alive. You had Jin. And when he left, you had Jae. That was enough for you.

But now knowing that your father was out there, and that he knew Jin, made you curious. You weren’t really curious about your father, more so your mother. But, how did he know Jin? Phone tapping? Listening to your private conversations? Is that something that your potential father is capable of?

After ending the phone conversation with Jin, you both agreed to meet at a discrete location. He didn’t have to say the usual spot, you already knew.

A tree behind the orphanage, now old and abandoned. Someone could’ve spotted you from a mile away, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you were famous or anything. Unlike Jin, who showed up in a black zip up hoodie with a mask. He looked like he was about to rob someone.

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna steal my purse or something”, you teased. “We’re literally meeting behind an abandoned building. I don’t think anyone is here.”

“You never know, especially with your dad.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth about this whole dad thing? This could just be another lie you’re spinning to get me to forgive you.”

He sighed. “At this point, I have no reason to lie. And this is serious, Ynie.”

You climbed your way up the old oak tree, sitting on one of the limbs. “Where is he? Do you know? He shook his head.

“No, and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you”, Jin snarked. “He is dangerous, deadly.”

“I don’t care, Jin. He’s my father. You can’t protect me from this one.”

He climbed up the tree also, claiming a spot next to you on the limb. He laid his head on your shoulder as you sat in silence.

Just like old times.

“You still lied to me. Don’t expect me to forgive you that easily”, you reminded him. Yes, hearing about your father puts things in a different perspective, but the principle still stands. His loyalties should lie with you, not your potential father.

“I’m really sorry”, he apologized. “And I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done, but I really hope we can try to move past this, together. I’m not saying that things have to go back to the way they used to be. You’re an adult now, so you don’t need me to look after you anymore. But maybe we can start over? Clean the slate?”

You smiled, on the brink of tears. “Maybe. I have missed my best friend a little.”

“A little?” Jin teased. “I know it didn’t seem like it, but there was never a single day I wasn’t thinking about you, missing you.”

His hand reached your cheek, wiping away the tears. God, memories were a bitch. All you can think about is old times, but the good times, not the bad ones.

“You know we’re gonna have to tell them, right?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’ll get suspicious if we’re suddenly the best of friends.”

You nodded. “I’ll tell them, don’t worry.” You both agreed it was better if you sat down and told his boyfriends the truth. Jin doesn’t always have a way with words, especially when their eyes pierced through his skull like daggers.

“I want to meet him, Jinnie”, you whispered. “I want to meet my father.”

The next week went smoothly. You and Jin began to reacclimate to being in each other's presence. The bangtan meetings were more productive, considering you actually showed up this time. The beginning was a little rocky, though.

“Well, look who decided to show up?” The leader complained. “You missed– I don't know— about three meetings!”

“I’m really sorry”, you apologized, giving a formal 90 degree bow. Jin laughed at your teasing.

“This is the last meeting before we start promotions. I couldn’t miss this.”

You all discussed the boring partnership mumbo jumbo. You didn’t really pay attention half the time. You mostly texted Jin, in need of a distraction.

“Anything else to add Miss Kim?” Their advisors asked you.

“Yes actually”, you replied. “But it’s actually more of a private matter. Could I ask you all to step outside for a quick second? Everyone except Bangtan, of course.”

The manager gave you a quick glare before obeying your orders, grabbing their belongings and walking out of the office.

“Is she about to murder us?” Tae jumped up out of his chair, making his way to the door. “I’m too young to die!”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Yah! Would you stop being so dramatic and get back in your seat?”

You laughed. “I promise, I have no ulterior motives. I just want to apologize.”

You could tell that obviously wasn’t what they were expecting. They looked at each other, all wondering why they weren’t being chewed out by you for being a bunch of dickheads.

“I realize that everything that happened wasn’t expected, and I never meant to uproot anyone’s life. To be honest, I didn’t even know who you guys were before this partnership— well besides Jin. And the reason Jin was keeping secrets is because I told him to. But I want to be the one to tell you everything.”

The room went silent. It was like everyone was on the edge of their seats, like a movie hitting the climax.

“Ynie, you don’t have to do this right now”, Jin assured you. “We can do this later, maybe when we’re all more comfortable with each other.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I need to do this now, or I’ll never do it. If I’m gonna ask for your help, you need to know the full story.”

“Help with what?” Joon questioned. “What do you need us for?”

“I need help finding my father.”

It was a silent ride back home for the boys. With everything going on in their heads, after everything you had told them, it was hard not to ponder over it.

Even when they got back to the dorms, it was quiet. Jimin couldn’t help but beat himself up over his last actions, the way he first treated you. Looking at it from his point of view, you could see why he acted the way he did. But he still felt foolish for thinking that a person like you would be out to get him, to take what’s his. They all sat in the living room, stuck in their heads.

“We need to talk about this”, Jungkook said, breaking the silence.

“You’re right”, Hoseok agreed. “I think we should help her. Good karma, you know?”

Jin shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’ve met him before. He is dangerous. I don’t want him anywhere near her.”

“Okay, but that’s not your decision to make, Jin”, Yoongi argued with his arms crossed. “As a good friend, you need to just support her decisions and help her when she makes mistakes. You can’t make decisions for her.”

Joon agreed. “Yoon is right. Keep her from this and you might lose her entirely... again.”

“Then what do I do?” Jin asked desperately. “Just let her get hurt?”

Jimin consoled his exasperated boyfriend, lighting massaging his shoulders. “Yes, and be there for her when it happens-if it happens.”

All of those years he spent protecting you, raising you. To be honest, he missed it. But you’re not a little girl anymore. You're a grown woman, capable of making your own decisions. And he is a grown man, responsible and mature.

“Okay”, Jin agreed. “Let’s help find her father.”

“Are you seriously gonna hang out with the same people that hated you like two days ago?”

You were getting ready to have lunch with the boys. You invited Jae to come along, wanting an icebreaker in case things are still awkward. He was helping you get ready in your lovely walk-in closet.

“We are all mature adults, Jae. Get over—”

“And let me also remind you, that Jimin guy embarrassed you in front of millions of people! They're all a bunch of dicks.”

“My favorite”, you teased. He threw an old t-shirt at you.

“You have the humor of a teenage boy.” Jae picked a shirt hanging up in your closet, handing it to you.

“That one, so we can match!”

“Like a couple?” You asked sarcastically. “How cute!”

He snatched the shirt back. “Never mind. Jin probably wouldn’t want us to match anyway.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would he care what I wear?”

“Because he’s totally crushing on you, him and his boyfriends— maybe not Jimin though.”

"You're delusional", you scoffed. "There's seven people in that relationship. I bet they're not looking for anymore."

"Whatever you say... But that Namjoon guy was definitely checking you out at the awards show."

Another shirt was thrown across the closet, and with that drawer of socks, but even after the conversation ended you wondered…

Was what Jae said true?

Taglist (if @ is purple I can’t tag you :()

@scuzmunkie @moon-cupcakes @quillan-pie @uarmyhore @xjiminsthighsx @dreamamubarak @exfolitae @snookerbooker @bex-tk1 @prettybitxc @frieschan @whipwhoops @lulu-83 @minaaathings @demarie04 @svnbangtansworld @juju-227592 @bangtantxts @blancflms @girl-nahh @kameko-ko @cutiethecupcake @worcesheshestershiresauce @irishhbamb

Lmk if I forgot to add you or you would like to be added <3

92 notes · View notes