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targaryenluvs · 5 months

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OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk - massive thank you to @motelofmermaids and @lust4lore for their help with reading and writing!!!

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.

as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.

your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.

you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.

as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.

finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.

he practically had you all to himself.

“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.

“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.

your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.

“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.

finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.

“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.

he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.

there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.

how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.

you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.

after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.

“oh isn’t she adorable?”

“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”

“you are precious!”

they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.

in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.

it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.

it was just you and finnick.

“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”

he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.

you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.

“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.

finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.

“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.

“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.

finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.

“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.

the interview went well, in your eyes at least.

caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.

the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.

“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.

“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.

you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.

“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.

“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.

you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.

finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.

you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?

you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.

“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”

the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.

you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.

instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”

the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.

whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.

the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.

your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?

finnick needed to see more.

the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.

such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.

his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.

finnick would tell you right?

“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.

your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.

“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.

for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.

you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.

“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“yes, here.”

“i’ll make it so good for you.”

“just let me feel you.”

“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.

your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.

only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.

by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?

“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”

his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?

“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.

his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”

“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.

“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.

it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.

as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”

your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.

he wanted to go easy on you.

but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.

the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”

you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.

his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”

but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.

god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.

“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.

“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”

you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.

“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”

he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?

“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.

“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.

“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.

now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?

his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.

a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.

“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.

this man was driven youd give him that.

“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.

“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.

each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.

“wanna make you feel good.”

“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”

when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.

you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.

“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-

smack!

“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.

smack!

you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.

“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.

smack!

“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?

he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.

he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.

“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.

his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.

the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.

the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.

you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.

you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.

#dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #dark!finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x fem!reader #hunger games x reader #finnick odair x female reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader

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irisintheafterglow · 9 months

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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.

"so you're both megumi's..."

"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.

"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.

you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.

"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"

"not for me, no."

"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."

"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.

"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"

"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.

"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.

"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.

"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."

"i think that'd be worse than satoru."

"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.

"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.

"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.

"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.

"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."

"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.

"your teacher says you're doing well in class."

"really?"

"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."

"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.

"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.

"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."

"trying to follow my example?"

"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."

"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.

"i'm one of a kind!"

"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."

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

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zvdvdlvr · 4 months

Note

i raise u hotch x f!r who was pronounced kia but she comes back?

— Home

— 🧠 synopsis. After being pronounced KIA, reader shows up after a year.

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language

part one

‘‘We regret to inform you-‘’ was the first and only thing Aaron heard before his vision blurred and his hands went slack.

If had happened, his biggest fear: you were never coming home. The only personal effects Aaron received was your wallet and dog tags with your wedding band on it. The flag that the marines handed him was heavy in his arms.

As they left, Aaron dropped his head in his hands and set the things he was handed down carefully on his desk. Before he did anything else, he shut his office blinds and sank into his chair.

God, he thought, what do I tell Jack?

— 🧠

It had been about a year since being kidnapped by the cartel your unit was attempting to bring down. One year of sensory deprivation. One year of curling into yourself at night dreaming of waking up with Jack laughing as you swung him around on your arm. One year of thinking about Aaron’s gravely voice whispering a sweet ‘good morning’ right before he kissed your temple.

“You ready?” One of your longtime mentors/father figures Jethro asked.

You nod and bit your lip. “Jethro what if he’s moved on from me? What if… he stopped loving me?” You asked, malnourished body shaking from your anxiety.

The man only scoffed. “Not Aaron Hotchner, y/n. He wears your dog tags, you know. He hasn’t moved on from you, kid.”

Finally you stepped out of Gibbs’ truck and nodded. You truly hoped Jethro was right. Your fresh uniform was big on your frame- you had lost a lot of weight and muscle after being fed only a meal every two days.

Stepping into the elevator made you want to cry. The familiar beep of the machine soothed your soul more than you ever thought possible.

Your stomach did flips as you stepped into the bullpen, hoping and praying that your reunion went well.

— 🧠

In the year that you’d been gone, Hotch changed.

He no longer smiled. Ever. The laugh he had with the team alnost every day after meeting you was gone. Aaron had no patience for anything either.

Emily recalled one month anniversary of your deathdate. Hotch’s eyes were the reddest they had ever been and he genuinely looked like he had just been stabbed in the gut. That day, he had yelled twice at the two cops that had continued to bicker over evidence. And once at Rossi.

The only reason Rossi didn’t say anything in response to Aaron’s anger was because he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was: with you and your apparent grave on the other side of the world.

But she watched your boots hit the ground, hair pulled back into the bun you had taught her all those years ago when you and Hotch first started dating. Emily watched you stand nervously in your spot, eyes scared.

Emily never remembered seeing you scared.

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with her.

No one else had seen you yet, so Emily sprinted over to you and let you sink into her embrace.

“Aaron?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Emily nodded, vision blurred. “Go see him, y/n. He’s- none of us… we thought…” Her voice cracked and wavered.

“I love you, Em,” you said, slipping out of her grasp again. But this time, Emily knew you were alive.

The walk up the stairs made your heart race.

You brought your hand up to the door and knocked. Below, you could already hear Emily talking to the team. You heard your name, some gasps, and then silence.

“Come in,” Hotch called gruffly from the other side of the door.

You twisted the door handle and pushed. And then you stepped into the room.

“Can I help you?” Your husband asked without looking up. His head was bent and he slouched, something he always nagged on you to make sure you never did. How far did he fall in one year?

“I wanted to see my husband,” you say, voice shaky. “I heard he was here.”

Aaron shot up from his chair, seat flying backwards. His eyes. Oh, his eyes.

“Y-y/n?” He asked. His hair was a mess; it looked like all he had done lately was worriedly run a hand through it. Your heart ached for the man in front of you.

You stepped forward. “Hi, angel,” you said, taking another step forward.

“You died, y/n. I- we all… Jack and I-“ Aaron stuttered, tears falling from his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stand in uniform, an arms length away.

“I missed you. So much,” you say, crying now.

Aaron strode over to you and hugged you, letting his body fall slowly to the floor as you cried in his arms. “Oh my love,” Aaron cried, hiding his face into the crooke of your neck.

You were home.

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wonderlandwalker · 5 months

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He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known

Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika

He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace.

He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.

Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him.

He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back.

It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it.

And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.

“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news.

“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous.

“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.

And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt.

Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better.

The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him.

And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.

After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.

“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”

The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong.

He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use.

He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again.

He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.

But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.

Part 2: Should've Known

#finnick odair angst #finnick x reader #finnick angst #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #hunger games #hunger games angst #angst #finnick odair fic #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fanfiction #finnick odair sad #finnick odair imagine #finnick fic #finnick fanfic

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rad-batson · 1 year

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Billy who can still perform the same amount of magic as Captain Marvel when he’s his kid self, but due to the limits of his mortal body, he would literally burn up from the inside if he does too much or doesn’t allow himself to cool off first.

For a long while, he didn’t even notice. To be fair, it’s not like the wizard had time to give him the whole run-down before dying, and he never mentioned anything about performing magic outside of the Champion’s form. But sometimes, weird stuff would just happen out of nowhere?

He’ll only perform magic unintentionally when he’s extremely emotional. Not for everything, like “Man, I wish I could fix the holes in my socks.” But if he’s had a super bad day, and he just needs a good cry, he sees his hole-ridden socks and thinks, “Goddamnit, why can’t I just have nicer socks?” suddenly, they’re good as new! But he also feels the urge to lie down for a nap.

Some cops are sniffing around his neighborhood, and Billy is praying that he’ll be left alone. He doesn’t want to get kicked out of another semi-safe refuge. But right when the cops are about to discover his hideout, they’re called back to their precinct. Without warning, Billy’s chest feels hot. He suffers dizziness spells for a few hours and needs to wait a day before he’s back on his feet.

The real tipping point, however, is when he walks to school and it starts pouring with rain. He’s already had a rough morning so he just curses and ducks into the next bus stop. But before he can take cover, it’s sunny again, and out of nowhere, he’s running a dangerously high fever. He almost collapses in exhaustion. His hair is literally smoking, and that’s when he realizes what’s going on.

Now, Billy needs to be extremely careful with his emotional state. If he even thinks of something he wishes could happen, he might die. That’s why he can’t use too much magic, and it’s also why he talks to himself out loud so much. It’s easier to catch himself if he’s constantly reciting his inner monologue.

Later on, he gets some help with regulating his magic. Maybe John Constantine comes in and goes, “Okay buddy, we need to get you some breathing exercises,” because he’s in genuine mortal danger if he does. Maybe Billy tests his luck a few too many times and has to go MIA for a week because if he turns into Cap one more time, he'll burst into flames the moment he turns back.

But idk I am just so fascinated by the idea that this preteen who is literally the Champion of Magic harnesses the ability to level mountains while knowing nothing about magic because he has no real mentor, but he’s holding the potential to cause an avalanche if he sneezes the wrong way at the risk of his own life and he doesn’t have a clue.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #dc #dc universe #shazam #justice league #john constantine #he's just a little guy #look at him

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libertyybellls · 5 months

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silver soul !

pairing; finnick odair x fem reader

summary; you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.

contains ; ANGST, sadness, unconfessed loves.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you’re sitting atop the smoothest rock nearing the shoreline, too close to be dry but too far to be soaked. the air is cool despite the season. something somber lays in the air- as if nature can read the silence between you and finnick.

oh, finnick.

you wait for him to speak, for him to say goodbye and let you go. let you move onto your impending doom. but he doesn’t speak- he doesn’t even move. no noise is emitting from him, you’re not even sure you can hear his breathing- the typically obnoxious huffs and puffs he exudes are gone and he remains next to you in these final moments on district 4- refusing to speak.

he’d prayed to any god that would listen for the 68th hunger games to have mercy on you. he wouldn’t give just an arm and a leg for your safety. he would give anything that belonged to him to ensure that you’d return home, back to him, back to whatever you two were in.

he could’ve crumpled to the floor when he’d heard your name called, when nobody had volunteered. why you? why not anyone else? anyone but her.

“i’ll be okay.”

you couldn’t promise that, you knew it was a lie, you’re only 16, you have nothing to depend on getting you through the games.

“i’ll be your mentor. i’ll find you sponsors. let me help you.” finnick pleads, his eyes lowly looking into yours.

it is only then you want to break into pieces in his arms. you want to sob. you want to retreat back to your family, back to his safe presence. he looks so pure with the sparkle of grace in his eye, deeply at variance to the picture that’s been painted to the capitol. his altruistic belief in you when even now, you are certain you won’t make it far in these games, gives you a rush.

you don’t respond to his desperate offers. you only look down to your lap- at your dress playing with the simple garment. you laugh breathily, “what are the odds.”

‘not in my favor’ he selfishly thinks. he may still have a life whether you win or lose this game- but will he be alive? will he have his anchor?

he shames the world, shames the capitol, shames all of the people who sat back and let you walk onto that stage, shames the game makers who would ever let you step foot in that arena. he needs you to be okay. this world is cruel, cruel to do this to his girl.

“please trust me, i will get you out of these games. you will be a victor and we can live in peace, y/n.”

he sins. he lies. he deceives. straight through his teeth. no matter the outcome you will never live in peace once your out of this. you will never be the same girl.

you think back to his own games. though he has yet to directly say his nightly terrors, his daily horrors, the acts he’s committed that he will never say as he looks into your loving eyes. the capitol has not had lenience on this boy, only a boy, but with troubles of a man.

there is no outcome of this predicament that either of you favor. no scenario in which the world grants you the rest you deserve. you want to scream, cry, pour your heart into him. let him fully consume every fiber that holds you together, all the words you’ve never yet said to him lay heavy on your heart. now it is your turn to stay silent, to lose all oxygen in your lungs, let the blood leave your face. but your voice fails you, “i trust you finnick.”

i trust that i am safe with you. i trust that you won’t let me die. i trust that i will make it back to you. i trust you.

he pulls you into him, his cheeks are wet, there’s a lump in his throat but he does not speak. he simply holds your head onto his chest- his fingers lock into yours as if that’s where they were made to lay.

your words continue to lie dormant in the back of your shared minds- but you let the angry waves speak for you. the greying sky share your sadness, the cold drops of water that reach your legs will bring you back to life- rejuvenate your soul ties. this is the peace you’ve been granted- this is all that is fair in your life.

only in this moment will he have you as you are now, in his arms, still so fragile but he holds you intact.

#finnick odair #finnick oneshot #finnick angst #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x you

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blondedmuse · 2 years

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OUT OF THE WOODS

finnick odair x reader

synopsis. ꩜ you and finnick get separated during the quarter-quell, but you always manage to find your way back to each other.

author's note. ∿ i've wanted to write for finnick for like ever so. also angst and fluff

word count. ⨾ 1.9k

The sky was a grim obsidian, your muscles were aching, and your eyelids were listless, ready to close for good at any given moment. You, Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta had been trekking the jungle terrain of the arena for hours and it proved itself to be nothing less than grueling. You'd been on edge ever since the moment you stepped on the podium and even more once the countdown had ended and the game had begun. It hadn't helped your fear when Peeta had almost died, twice, before nightfall—it was a wonder he was still alive.

Now, hours later, you're still on edge and waiting for what the game makers were ready to throw at you. The group had just been gifted a spile for water and settled somewhere to sleep for the night, but you were still wide awake. Even though the water had pacified your thirst, nothing could pacify your fear.

"I think you should get some rest," Finnick said, coming up from behind and sitting on a rock next to you. You only shook your head at his suggestion and you saw his expression soften. It wasn’t easy, but he could read you like a book. It didn’t have to slap him in the face to know you were more than exhausted. You were afraid, angry, but above all else you were sad.

Finnick hated seeing you like this, especially because being your mentor, he knew the effect your first game had on you—and it felt like he was watching it happen all over again.

"Y/N."

"Finnick," You replied.

"Rest," He said seriously, but his voice was gentle. You looked into his eyes and they were begging for you to give into his request.

"Fine," You sighed. "Just...be alert, please."

He nodded his head with a sympathetic smile. "Always."

You got up from the rock and Finnick's sweet, saccharine smile lingered on his lips while you laid yourself down on a large leaf to sleep on, covering the ground.

You kept yourself close to the group, but just distanced enough where you could sleep undisturbed. It didn't take much for you to drift off, despite the pounding sound throughout the arena. You acknowledged it and heard Katniss mumble something about twelve, but after that your mind went blank, falling asleep.

Only an hour or two later were you woken up a second time by the sounds of screams—Katniss' screams. Your body jolted awake and the next thing you know you were on your feet and grabbing your harpoon, running from the poisonous fog swiftly heading your way.

The cloud had slithered its way between you and the rest of the group, who you were now losing sight of. You heard Finnick call your name and you were about to call out back to him, but you were cut off by your own scream caused by searing pain.

Finnick heard your cries and urgently called your name again but Katniss continued to usher him and Peeta in the other direction before they too could be consumed by the cloud.

The fog had only reached the heel of your foot and yet the burn was almost unbearable. It sent you stumbling forward, rolling on the ground, landing by a small creek. It didn't take much for the fog to catch up to you, consuming the lower half of your body. The agony kicked your senses into high gear and you knew you had to keep moving. You did what you could, dragging yourself towards the stream.

When your skin touched the water it was almost as if you were going up in flames. The pain heightened tenfold and all you could do was close your eyes and scream in anguish. But it only lasted for so long until you noticed its disappearance.

Once your eyes flickered open you saw the water clearing your wounds and an invisible forcefield that redirected the cloud around you. You were still alive. You were still in the game. The moment the cannon went off you could only pray that Finnick and the others were too.

Finnick's heart sank. "That couldn't have been her," He mumbled, his voice wavering and Peeta looked at him nervously.

"I mean I don't know." He shrugged. "We saw her and then we didn't."

"It could've been another tribute," Finnick reasoned while the sharp pain in his throat anticipated the welling of tears in his eyes. He really does believe the cannon signaled the death of another tribute, that you wouldn't give up so easily—not without a fight. But he also didn't want to believe that you were truly gone, because then he wouldn't know whether or not he'd be able to keep going.

"It had to be a coincide-" Finnick started again, only to be cut off by Katniss.

"Finnick, grab your trident slowly," She said, her voice just above a whisper, her eyes shifting between Finnick and the monkey mutation stalking behind him.

You'd been laying in the creek for about what you thought was around a little less than an hour, resting your body and catching your breath. It was pure luck a tribute hadn't stumbled over you and you weren't going to let it happen now.

You hauled yourself up from the ground, grabbed your harpoon, and continued moving through the arena. If something hadn't killed you while you were motionless on the ground, then the game makers were going to send something your way to try and make sure you wouldn't be alive for much longer. And they did.

Seconds after you grabbed your harpoon, you noticed an animal in the distance blocking your way to the beach—and it was heading your way. You started traveling parallel to the shore, running as fast as you could but you only got so far until your feet came to a halt, another one in your way. You could see now that it wasn't just an animal but a monkey. A big, monstrous, mutated, monkey.

You were quick to stab it right through the heart, its body collapsing to the ground. However, that was only the first of many. The monkeys began appearing left and right, and while it was easy, you could only kill so many before they would start to fight back. One clawed at your side and you felt your flesh split open, your side warming with the blood of an open wound. You needed to run.

Your means of escape to the beach were gone so you kept moving parallel to shore once you cleared a way for yourself. While running you tried to recall what exactly Katniss said. "I counted 12...like midnight?"

It didn't take you long before you put the pieces together. The arena was like a clock, or at least followed a measured unit of time. You remembered the sound of loud thuds, pangs, similar to a clock when the hour hand strikes twelve. The fog was about an hour and you had been lying on the ground for maybe forty-five minutes after that. All you were sure of was that if you were right, this sudden wave of monkeys couldn't last for much longer.

With a hand on your wound, you ran until your legs grew tired, and then you ran some more. They eventually stopped chasing after you and stopped appearing altogether. You'd admit it was strange, but it didn't matter now that they were gone. Still, you kept running. You kept running because you heard a voice. Finnick's voice.

"Katniss!" Finnick yelled, chasing after the frantic girl on fire. "Katniss?"

She ran steadfast into the jungle, chasing the voice of her sister, Prim. She repeated her name over and over again as if she would be able to find her in the arena, but all she saw were squawking birds. She furrowed her brows. Jabberjays.

"Katniss, are you okay?" Finnick asked, finally catching up to her.

"Yeah, I just...thought I heard my sister," she explained and Finnick nodded, slightly distracted.

"Do you hear that?" He asked. "It sounds like...Y/N?"

Katniss' eyes widened and Finnick was already on the move, sprinting towards what he thought was your voice.

"Finnick! No! They're just-"

Jabberjays.

You hadn't heard Finnick's voice at all, only the mocking voice of mutated birds. Birds that were swarming you overhead, garbling your name in his voice and mimicking his cries. The sound of his pained voice was tormenting on its own, but it was even worse when the birds started swooping towards you.

You tried to run but you hit an invisible forcefield, not to your convenience this time. You didn't know what to do so you covered your ears and dropped to the jungle floor. You could still hear his cries, cutting deep into your heart. And you could only wait until the torture was over.

Eventually, enough time had passed and the harrowing voices of the birds subsided. Despite your body's objection, you got up from the ground and stood on your feet. You were depleted of any energy and emotion, and with every cannon that went of you grew a little sicker at the fact that it might've been Finnick. Still, you were determined to reach the beach. If you hadn't found your allies by then, you'd at least hope to catch some fish.

You trudged your way through the shrubs and trees of the terrain, holding your wound tighter as the pain became more prevalent. Regardless, you were still on edge. You had to be. Every rustle, every noise made you ask yourself, Am I in the clear? The answer never unwavered as no until you locked eyes with the man you'd been longing to find. He's with Katniss, Peeta, and a few other tributes you're friendly with, but they couldn't have mattered less at the moment.

"Y/N," Finnick rasped and rushed towards you, your bodies crashing into one another as he pulled you into his embrace.

"Thank god you're alive," He whispered while his tears soaked your shoulder and relief coasted through you like a wave crashing into the shore. You may not've been safe, but he made the monsters feel like trees.

"I'm okay," You murmured and he hugged you harder, his arms enveloping your waist.

"Didn't think I'd die on you, did you?" You joked as he pulled his head back for a moment admiring the face of his lover in front of him. It was as if he was trying to memorize you by detail, every scar, every beauty mark, and the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled at him because the fear of losing you at any given moment had become a reality. And that fear increased once he felt your blood on his hands.

He furrowed his brows. "You're bleeding."

"I know."

"Can I?" He asked and you nodded, knowing exactly what his intentions were. He ripped off one of your sleeves, tying it around your waist and you winced quietly, but of course, he heard it.

"I know," He whispered, consoling you as he pulled the sleeve tight. He wiped the grimace off your face with a kiss, one that carried a volume of passion that transcended the work of the greatest poets combined.

"Never do that again," He mumbled and his tone was lighthearted but you know he meant it.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He smiled. "Now let's get out of the woods."

#finnick odair #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #the hunger games #catching fire #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n

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witchxxjpg · 3 months

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im happy that you liked my previous lestappen hunger games au🥳🥳🥳 and asked for a part of it. it is alive purely because of you, so enjoy!!

******

Charles got picked when he was just 12 years old. It was rare for a tribute to be that young but it happened sometimes.

Jules volunteered for him that year. He could've been 18 the following month but he stayed 17 forever. Charles would always remeber staying up all night to pray for him.

Charles would forever remeber seeing another tribute slashing his throat with a sword.

The whole 10th district mourned his death that day, raising a finger to the sky, pointing to the place where all people went. He was a caring and passionate guy. Even some other districts said their sorries. He was loved by everyone. And by Charles the most.

In just 5 years Arthur was picked. And Charles knew exactly what he needed to do.

The Capitol played his life as a tragic story of a boy who repayed his debt by volunteering himself for his little brother. He knew that Jules didn't want that, but he also knew that Arthur was too small and scared to be a tribute.

He won his games.

He portrayed the role of an innocent brother with angelic face and a pure goal. He wanted to believe the lies that the Capitol made him play. But everyone saw how Markus, a boy from district 4, died. With a dagger in his heart.

Charles was always good with daggers and knives. In his district he was terrible at caring for animals that his family was all looking after. But he was extremely good with skinning and preparing the meat to be sent to the Capitol. He used his skills well during his games.

He never had nightmares. But he saw traits of lost tributes in faces of all people.

Charles lived peacefully for 6 years.

He was more or less lucky with how the Capitol treated him afterwards. He was well aware of how pretty looking tributes ended up. But his role was to motivate all the districts to behave. They filmed a lot of videos with him that they called 'promotional'. To show what happened to people who disobeyed and to people who behaved themselves.

Charles was sick of doing all these lies, but it was better then being a toy for some moneybags.

After 6 years the 75th Hunger Games were announced. The Third Quarter Quell.

There were only three male winners from District 10. Sebastian and Kimi. And Charles.

Charles was picked again. He said his goodbyes to his family.

He was aware that these games would be different and he knew that he won't walk out of them alive. He at least was happy that Sebastian agreed to be his mentor this time too.

******

Max was born to win. That's what his father always said. He was trained all his early childhood to become a winner of the games.

That's why as soon as he turned legal age he volunteered.

His father pressured him into the games and never helped. Max was lucky to have Daniel as his mentor.

He won his first games of course. The youngest winner ever and with a record of most tributes eliminated.

He'd thought that he'd never have nightmares. But now he knew.

Max was just 13 when he won, but as soon as he started to understand the world he knew that he was doomed.

Doomed ro relive memories of his father's puppet.

Max dreamed of his snowy arena. Of all 12 kids that he killed with his axe. Of their distorted faces and hoarse screams. He never wanted to fall asleep again.

After the games he continued to study in the academy to be a peacekeeper. He wanted ro do at least something good. He finished with the highest grades and best results. He was offered a position as a Head Peacekeeper. He chose District 10.

He saw people from District 10 selebrate its win when that boy returned home. He saw them raising a finger to the sky. 'The chosen one'. That's how they called him. Charles.

Max saw him sometimes. When he went to the central fair or left to the Victor's Village. He saw how people treated him. Like a son or a close friend. And he treated them the same.

He was their victor.

All winners had perks and Max saw how he gave them all away to people of his district.

Max had to suppress his inner urge to reach out for him. To ask if he felt the same way.

Like a broken tool that no longer had a purpose to serve

Probably he didn't. He helped his people. And Max was a peacekeeper, wearing a mask to hide his face that's outlined by all the deaths that he'd caused.

He tried to reduce people's suffering.

He was a peacekeeper for 8 years.

When the time of the 75th Hunger Games came closer, Max knew about the Third Quater Quell and how it would be like.

There were a lot of winners to compete for District 2, but during the reaping Daniel was chosen. Max didn't doubt that Daniel would've won the quill, but Max saw the trace that the games had left on him. He saw how the games had treated him. He knew Daniel's story.

Max volunteered again.

Long time ago he cared about himself. But he didn't anymore.

He saw that boy from District 10 being chosen too.

******

Daniel was born in District 2, but his parents weren't.

He never felt like he fit with all the others.

Since young age he had to attend the academy to train there like every child of the second district muct do. He always hated it.

He read once in some old book from the library a phrase that made him understand what he felt. 'Like a bird in a cage'. His 6 year old self was very impressed.

Daniel liked all his survival classes, the ones that didn't include murders. All of his classmates hated them.

He was never like the others. When he first got to his class he tried to make friends. That's what his parents advised him to do. He tried to smile and tell stupid jokes, to share home-made food with the others and help them study. He tried to be himself.

But it never quite worked.

Everyone laughed at him and not with him. They pointed at him, calling him 'a dumb weirdo'. They took his food away and threw it in a garbage bin. They locked him in storage rooms to skip classes that caused him a lot of warnings and later detentions.

Daniel tried not to notice them but he couldn't. He spent most of his life in the academy with bruises on all his body parts and tears on his cheeks. He knew that he was not like the others but he didn't think that he was so difficult that people can't be in the same room as him.

Until he turned 17.

All students from the academy had a queue for games. Everyone fought to have a chance to win the games. And when the reaping started someone from the list of volunteers would go.

Daniel was picked for the 64th Hunger Games. He thought that someone from the careers would volunteer as they always did. But everybody kept silent.

It felt like a death sentence.

His mentor was Mark. He was fun and helpful. He advised to make friends.

On the first meeting with tributes Daniel decided that he liked only Jev from District 8 and Jules from District 10. They were both nice and didn't laugh at his attempts to be nice too. It was the first time that he thought he could have a friend.

It didn't last long.

Jev was one of the first to get eliminated. Daniel and Jules tried to stay together. But one day into the games they had to part ways to get food and water.

The next time Daniel saw him was with a sword slashing his throat.

He tried to heal the wound but his knowledge wasn't enough.

Before Jules passed away he gave Daniel his lucky charm - a small wooden statuette of a bird. Daniel wouldn later return it to his godson.

Daniel won the games. He knew that nobody from his district expected that.

The following year he decided to become a mentor. For 13 year old Max.

Max was always angry with his bright icy eyes shining with rage. But he also wasn't like others.

He was one of the careers, but Daniel didn't see their traits in him. Max didn't want to win for glory and pride.

He just wanted to make his dad happy with him.

Daniel tried to teach him how to live in this world. He tried to make him realise that he didn't need to kill all 23 of tributes for his dad to be happy with his son. He tried to make him feel better. He tried to joke and make him laugh as all early teenagers his age should do.

And he felt pretty cool when he succeeded in that, hearing his small laugh with a shy smile.

He knew that the boy liked him but he didn't know what to do.

And then Max won his games.

He stood there on the podium with a prideful expression on his face, but all Daniel saw were his empty eyes filled with something.

And Daniel was well aware what was that something. He saw it in himself every time he looked in the mirror.

Daniel tried to reach out when Max told him that he's going to be a peacekeeper. They even met sometimes when he was still studying in the academy.

After Max graduated he was sent to District 10 to serve there. And Daniel tried to still talk to him. Even when Max was very busy with his duties they called each other. And Daniel was always happy to hear his voice.

Daniel made friends among other winners. He had Lewis and Sebastian. But there was still something about Max that made Daniel care.

The next time they saw each other was right before the reaping for the Quarter Quell. All of the victors from District 2 were in the same hall, and there were a lot of them.

Daniel barely recognized Max with all the years that they spent apart. He looked broad and tall, even taller then Daniel. Nothing like a 13 year old boy that had won the games. His face was completely different, a strong jaw and no chubby cheeks.

But his eyes. They were still empty.

They shared an awkward hug and Daniel felt too good in his arms. He wished they could stay together for longer.

And he felt fine until his name was called.

He was picked.

Almost third of all the winners were from District 2, so Daniel thought that he wouldn't be in the games again.

He didn't have the time to think because Max volunteered.

When he looked at Daniel his face didn't hold a trace of uncertainty. He looked calm and sure. And his beautiful eyes flickered with something. But it wasn't the same something as after his games. It was something different.

And in a week he found himself in the same situation like 10 years ago.

Helping Max win.

******

Sebastian though he was a good mentor.

He took this role after his win at the 61st Hunger Games. He was the second male victor from District 2.

Kimi was a good mentor too. He was always calm and confident. Sometimes he felt distant but Seb never had a feeling that he didn't care about his tributes.

Sebastial saw a lot of good children that competed in the games. He saw all of them die.

He was a mentor for 8 years until he met Charles.

Everyone in District 10 knew Charles. His family had one of the biggest farms and Charles was extremely skilled with daggers. And everyone knew his story.

Sebastian still remembered mentoring Jules.

For Charles he decided to go for a sad story. That's how they can get more sponsors.

Charles was a pretty good actor and quickly understood what worked the best to get a reaction from the audience. He played well with his adoring face and big eyes.

Even before the games started they had enough donations for Seb to sent him daggers as a sponsor dift, so he didn't need to fight for the weapons.

And Charles won.

It wasn't something that Sebastian was surprised about. But he didn't think that he'd ever experience some kind of happiness. And here it was.

They both lived in Victor's Village. It was almost empty except for 5 houses that were also occupied by Kimi, Silvia and Lily. Both women preferred to live in the Capitol, so usually there were only three of them.

They even met every day for dinners together. It could get lonely sometimes.

Kimi had a family. A beautiful wife and two amazing kids. Seb loved them.

He didn't understand how Kimi could live knowing that his children might go through the same thing in the future. Seb knew that he didn't want kids because he wouldn't be able to live if one of them was picked for the games.

Sebastian waited for the Third Quarter Quell.

When it was announced Charles said that he would go for them if he or Kimi were chosen.

It wasn't necessary. Charles' name was called.

Sebastian knew that it was his duty to protect him.

They decided on the same strategy. Play nice and innocent for the sponsors.

When asked about alliance, Charles said that he wanted Carlos and Max. Seb would've advised on Lewis. But knowing that Nico from District 1 was participating, he would be too occupied fighting his biggest enemy.

Sebastian thought that Carlos was a good option. He was strong and not that arrogant. His help would be great.

But Max was different.

Even though Seb trusted Daniel who said that he was good, he still wasn't so sure.

Max was always quite complicated. He was too aggressive and forward, and despite everything that Daniel told him Seb didn't like him.

The games started in no time.

Charles knew their strategy well. He teamed with Carlos as soon as everything started.

They ran together.

They did pretty good during the first couple of days. Even succeeded in stealing an axe for Carlos and a knife for Charles.

This time the arena was a forest and it got pretty cold fast. They had to help each other.

They found a beautiful lake and a well-hidden cave nearby. There was also a small field with a lot of growing poppies that made it look as it was cowered in drops of blood.

On the first day near the lake Carlos made a small bouquet of them and gave it to Charles.

Sebastian thought that they were a good team. Trusting each other. He saw that something was growing between them.

Until one day Carlos got a spiked arrow in his right shoulder.

Everyone understood that he wouldn't be able to walk out alive.

Sebastian saw Charles trying to help him with all his herbalism skills, Seb himself sent them some good ointment to heal the wound. But it still wasn't helping.

He saw Carlos screaming in agony and Charles crying over his feverish body. Carlos begging Charles to kill him and end his suffering.

They all saw Charles putting his knife on Carlos' throat, choking on tears.

Charles buried him near the shore of the lake, filling his grave with bright red poppies.

The next day Charles decided to go search for the others. He packed all his things and took Carlos' axe. He was shit at working with it but it was his only great weapon as his knife had become dull. And he still remembered some of the tips that Max had shared with him during their training out of the blue.

He walked the whole day and thought that he wouldn't see anyone. But just as the sun set he saw a flicker of light in the distance. As he quickly and quietly approached the bonfire, holding the axe at ready, he noticed him. It was Max.

And Max noticed him too.

"I don't want to kill you", Charles said.

And Max answered, "I don't want to kill you either".

They were awkward at first but Max reached to his backpack and pulled three daggers. "They might suit you better then me. I have no idea what to do with them".

Charles took the gift and decided to give Carlos' axe away in return.

They didn't sleep at night, not really trusting each other yet, and talked. And appeared that they had a lot in common.

Sebastian saw all of this.

He just hoped that it wouldn't end up terrible. And that he wouldn't need to mourn another friend.

#lestappen #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel #max verstappen #cl16 #daniel ricciardo #mv33 #mv1 #my art #carlos sainz #f1 fandom #f1 art #formula 1 #digital art

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htmljoon · 11 months

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Imagine Miguel has slowly been falling for his personal assistant at work, as much as he’s been trying to ignore those feelings. He plays them off as fondness for a coworker, you had a mentor mentee relationship, of course he’d care for you. But he realizes just how deep his feelings truly are when he’s been at the office all night, not even realizing it had gotten well into the morning of the next day. He’d been so strung out and hyper fixated on the project that was due by the end of week that he’d completely lost track of time. The blank eyes behind his glasses are slowly scanning the documents on his laptop screens, deep blues painting his unusually pale skin just below them, clear evidence of his exhaustion. But his heart stops, and the room feels a little warmer, a little more colorful, when he hears you down the hall. The familiar hissing sound of the espresso machine stirs something in him, but it was white background noise compared to your beautiful voice. You were singing a song like you were up on a stage, full of emotion and enchanting like a siren. “Through drought and famine, natural disasters, my baby has been around for me…” You performed, deft hands working the latte maker like you did every morning for your boss. Soon the mechanic whirring stopped, giving Miguel an even better listen to your captivating music. His heart was pounding between his lungs, all fatigue having been stripped with each passing note. His eyes widened as the click of your heels grew closer, your humming growing louder, and then you startled in the doorway, nearly dropping the latte you made for him every morning. “Shi—“ you caught yourself before the curse word slipped out in front of your boss. You heaved a loud, breathless sigh, gripping your chest and doubling over. “Oh my god, you scared me, Mr. O’Hara! What are you doing here so early, sir?” He prayed you didn’t catch the pink hues dusting his cheeks, or the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and you stepped closer. The gentle smile you gave him as you set his morning coffee down on his desk had butterflies blooming in his stomach. All he wanted to do was grab that hand and reel you in so he could crash his lips against yours. “Just… prepping the project that’s due Friday,” he grumbled in a gravely voice, throat dry from lack of use. You sucked your teeth and shook your head. “You’ve been up all night? That won’t do at all. I’ll order breakfast from that place you like down the street. They have breakfast empanadas, right?” But you had already pulled out your phone to search the menu, giving him another glance and smile that has his knees weak before you typed away on your screen and headed back for the door. When he glanced down at his mug, his gaze stuck on the heart you drew next to his name, and his breath hitched in his throat. He could melt in your presence, you burned as brightly as the sun. And there was no denying he was falling in love with you.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel O’Hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel Drabble #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel spiderverse #spider man #spiderman 2099 #spiderman

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luvonmes-blog · 3 months

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Omg I just had the biggest brianrot for punk geto and ballet dancer reader 😭😭

omg omg omg omg omg! i just nutted thinkin bout this.

punk!geto x ballerina!reader

punk! geto who meets you through his little sister and is immediately obsessed with you, you who wears short pink tutus and pretty little point shoes

punk! geto who always comes to pick up his little sister after practice and finds out you’re one of her mentors for her class, she’s 16 and he finds out you’re definitely older than her, old enough for him

punk! geto who finds out you’re 19, just the same age as him, perfect

punk! geto who follows you around, flashing that toothy grin around black lip piercings, trying his hardest to get you to notice him

punk! geto who starts wearing tight black tank tops so you notice all the tattoos littered across his arms and back, tying his hair up more often so you can see all the pretty little piercings he has

punk! geto who’s frustrated you won’t pay any attention to him, he wants you notice him so bad, he wants you so bad, you see him. he knows you do but you ignore him as much as he hates it, he loves chasing after you

punk! geto who’s picking his sister up after a late practice, it’s pouring outside. when he texts her he’s outside she runs to the car quickly, already soaked from being outside. just as he’s about to pull off she yells something about seeing you. you’re under the pavilion holding your phone, searching for something

punk! geto who rolls his window down for his sister to yell out for you and invite you into the car, you turn her down first, “i’ll just wait for the bus.” suguru leans over now, “come on, it’s pouring out, the bus isn’t gonna be here for at least an hour.” you sigh and run to his back door getting into the car and settling into the back, your hair is down now, he’s never seen it like this before. it looks good

punk! geto who asked you for you address to take you home and once you pulled up, it was only then you realized you forgot your keys back at the studio. you apologized, embarrassed by the slip up but suguru brushes it off

punk! geto who just brings you home with him and his sister, she immediately scurries off to her room retiring for the night while suguru makes sure you’re comfortable within the walls of his home

punk! geto who offers you food, water, anything he can think of while you’re in his home, he gives you an extra pair of clothes, something from his sister and guides you to the bathroom so you can wash up and get set up for the night

punk! geto who’s mouth dropped open when you walk out of the bathroom, the shorts from his sister barely coming down to your mid thigh and the shirt stopping just above your belly button, he stutters when you ask, “do you have any bigger pants? these are a little too small.” he nods dazedly and rushes to his room to give you a pair of his boxers

punk! geto who thinks it’s worse when you remerge from the bathroom in his underwear instead of the shorts you had on before, the sight of you in his clothes has his dick pushing up against his sweatpants, he hides behind the kitchen counter so you won’t think he’s weird if you see his boner

punk! geto who wonders if you’re wearing any underwear under his own, he wonders if your bare pussy is pressing against the seam of his boxers, he wonders if when you give them back will your scent linger on them?

punk! geto who watches you walk around his little two and a half bedroom apartment, he could get used to this, you blend in so well

punk! geto who excuses himself to the bathroom to handle his little - big - problem and when he comes back out ten minutes later, he sees you struggling to reach the cups in the cabinet, he comes up behind you, grabbing one for you and as soon as his body presses against yours, he’s hard again

punk! geto who prays to whatever god you don’t notice but you do, he can tell when a little “oh…” leaves your lips

punk! geto who quickly apologizes and tries to step away but you grab his wrist and pull his chest flush against your back, “i see the way you look at me y’know, i don’t know if you try to be slick or not but i notice.”

punk! geto who groans when he feels you shift a bit, his cock rubbing against your ass thru your layers of clothing “if you want me so bad, show me.”

punk! geto who’s quick to reach and pull his boxers off of you but you stop him, “no, like this.” you grind your ass against him again and his eyebrows shoot up, “what? i can’t cum like this?” “yea you can, you will if you want me that bad.” you turn to look at him over your shoulder

punk! geto who sighs and begins to hump your ass over your clothes he huffs and puffs begrudgingly but before he knows it, he’s desperate, rutting against you quickly and gripping your hips

punk! geto who keeps going, the tip of his cock is pressed up against the band of his sweat pants, the friction is too good but not enough at the same time, he’s moaning and groaning into the air and before he knows it, he’s cumming in his pants, he’s cumming in his pants like a fucking teenage boy, he grips your hips a little too tight as he orgasms and you hiss at the pain

punk! geto who’s panting coming down from his high, everything is a little hazy and when he finally comes to, he looks down at the wet spot on his pants and the boxers you’re wearing, “can’t believe i just fucking did that.” you giggle at him and turn around to face him, “my turn.”

punk! geto who looked at you puzzled and then you’re pushing him down onto his knees and pulling the crotch of his boxers to the side, you make him suck on your clit until you cum down his throat, then, the two you sneak past his sisters room where he spends the rest of the night showing how good he can treat you and how good he would’ve if you hadn’t made him nut in his pants the first time

—————————

need him like i need air

#geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader smut #geto x reader #getou suguru x y/n #suguro geto #geto suguro x reader #geto x you #geto smut

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snowfll · 6 months

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A Soldier I will Be III; Treech

Pairing - Treech x Mentor!reader summary - after all the pain, the two of you have reached the end of the fight. words - 1.19k warning - fluff! again! note - for everyone who wanted one more part, this is the last part! i hope you guys liked this mini-series for Treech! more Treech fics coming soon and a Tom Blyth fic coming asap <3 part 1 part 2

That same night, the night before the 10th Hunger Games, you arrived at the zoo. With everything he said in that interview, you had to see him. You couldn’t deal with the fact that he might die in that arena without knowing how you felt.

“You came,” he whispered as his hands gripped at the bars that separated the two of you.

You placed your gentle hands over his calloused ones as you responded to him. “Of course I did. I heard what you said in the interview.”

He looked at you and blushed. “Oh, uh-- I didn’t think you were actually watching," he continued to ramble on as you giggled at his reaction. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomf—” You cut him off as your soft lips met his. Ever since you met him, you have had dreams of this exact moment.

Pulling away from the kiss, you rested your forehead against his, smiles on both of your faces. Now you were definitely not letting him die in that arena.

“Is everything you said real?” God, how you prayed it was real. You wanted him more than anything the capital could ever give you.

“Everything… I want to grow old with you. We can run away to District Seven or even stay here in the capital. Whatever you want, sweetie, I just want to be with you.” Your heart ached. You wanted to break him out of the cage right there and then, but you knew it would have consequences.

“Don’t die on me, Treech. Please, do not die in there.” You plead, placing your hands on his face and pulling him closer—if that was even possible. Your lips brushed against his for a moment before you leaned in for the second time that night. His lips smiled against yours before kissing back.

“Two kisses in one night? I feel like I won the games already.” He smirked at you while you playfully pushed his shoulder.

You noticed a couple of peacekeepers making their rounds and knew it was your time to leave, plus he needed as much rest as he could.

“Get some rest; you have a long day ahead of you.” You advised him as he grabbed your hand.

“One last kiss before you go?” He snickered. Did he want a kiss, absolutely. He just got you, and he already couldn’t get enough of you.

“Win the games, and you can get another one." You smirked at him as you kissed his cheek. He rolled his eyes at you as you waved goodbye. He was going to win—he needed to win for you.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Sitting in your designated seat, you watched as the games played out. It had been days, and thankfully, he was still alive. Maybe allying with Coral was a good thing; maybe he had an actual chance of surviving.

Earlier in the games, Treech and his allies were seen walking over to where his district seven partner was hiding away. Coral ordered Treech and Tanner to stay put and watch as she and Mizzen climbed onto the beam. Poor Lamina; all she had was Treech, and he abandoned her.

He looked guilty as he watched his allies attack the girl he came with. As her body fell off the beam, you saw a small tear escape from his eye before he wiped it away.

Now, they were after Lucy Gray; you just prayed she would be able to get rid of them before they got to Treech. Watching the singer run from the group, you knew she had a plan—a plan that might get Treech free from his allies.

You had a feeling he might actually win, like he promised you he would. There was hope, something you don’t usually have while living in the capital.

However, the hope soon disappeared as you watched as a huge cylinder was placed down from the sky. Whatever was in there was making its way out. The glass had broke, and hundreds, possibly thousands, of rainbow-colored snakes spewed over the arena.

One. Two. Three — three tributes were killed by the snakes, leaving Treech and one other girl, Lucy Gray. The both of them began to climb onto the ruins in the arena, with Treech on one side and the girl on the other.

The snakes began to slither their way up the ruin, inching closer and closer to the two remaining tributes. Before you knew it, the snakes got the the poor girl, the sound of a cannon booming, signaling her death. He did it. Treech won.

Yet he was still in the arena, the snakes crawling over him as he sat there, not moving a muscle. Why was he not being rescued?

“Let him out; he won!" you yelled to whoever would listen. Everyone was silent. Turning your head, you saw Coriolanus staring you down. He was pissed that you won instead of him. Still, you walked over to him; you had to get Treech out, and you hoped what you were about to do would work.

"Please, Coriolanus, I will give you the money; just tell them to get him out of there.” You whispered to him, knowing that Dr. Gaul took a liking to him and would listen. You didn’t care for the prize money; you were never doing it for the prize—you just wanted Treech to live.

Coriolanus nodded to you, yelling for them to save him from the snakes. By now, everyone in the crowd of students and parents had joined in, chanting for them to let him out as more and more snakes made their way onto his body.

“Ladies and Gentlemen." was heard over the loud sound system. “The 10th annual Hunger Games victor.” You let out a sigh of relief as you saw peacekeepers make their way into the arena, shooting at the snakes. They got him out as soon as possible, and you ran—all the way to the arena, you needed to see him.

As you arrived, you saw him being carried out on a stretcher. Making your way up to him, you noticed the condition he was in. He was no longer wearing his jacket, nor was his hat lying on his head. There were cuts and bruises all over his body.

“Hey, hey, you won." You grabbed his hand, squeezing as a way to reassure him that you were with him. He was going in and out of consciousness, but he was fighting to stay awake for you.

“Is it over?" He whimpered as they placed him in the van.

You nodded your head as you replied, “It is; you are finally going home.”

“What about you, sweetie?” He was afraid he wasn’t going to see you again. That you were going to stay in the capital; after all, you were still a capital sweetheart, and he was just a lumberjack.

"Sorry…" you paused as you stood next to his bed, holding his face in your hands. “I meant to say we--are going home.” He smirked at you, placing his hand over yours before speaking up.

“Can I get that kiss now?”

364 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 6 months

Text

[part three] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 7k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence mentioned, shibuya arc mentions summary: just when she thinks she's got her feelings all sorted out, the shibuya incident has to go and fuck it all up. contents: friends to lovers, gojo!reader, your favorite sappy scene where a finds b injured and loses their mind <3 we skimmed over key points in the arc bc i just couldn't do it folks

part three: "god, don't let me lose my mind" ___

As it turns out, the deeper something is buried the scarier it is when it comes back up, and it was a terrifying sight to have every hidden ounce of her affections thrown back at her face- or more accurately, shoved up her throat.

The Shibuya Incident changed everything.

She’d assumed she’d follow Nanami and his small team that consisted of a first year, Fushiguro Megumi, and then of course Ino. However, when she arrived on the scene, Ijichi had instructed that she was to find Zen’in Naobito and the students under his supervision, Kugisaki Nobara and Maki.

“I don’t understand,” She shook her head at the manager beckoned for him to show her the electronic paperwork with the order. “Nanami’s mentoring me for Grade One, why would I be sent away?”

Ijici anxiously glanced between her and the team of three who also seemed confused by the sudden change in development.

“I- I’m so sorry, Gojo-san,” He stammered. He never did like making people upset with the orders handed to him, most days he was merely a messenger, however when it came to the Gojos specifically, this was his worst nightmare. “Here, it’s all here, I- I don’t know why they’d separate you, perhaps more foot traffic? Uh, the station is quite overpopulated and there’s, um, only a few people scouting the perimeter”

As he holds out his device she swipes it up gingerly, eyes scanning through the order from the higher ups with great speed. Ijichi gulped down the lump in his throat, praying she wouldn’t break the phone with her iron group.

“It’s alright, (y/n),” Nanami came to the manager’s rescue. “We’ll be fine, the three of us. You should go with them”

She passed the phone back to Ijichi with a small nod of gratitude for his help, and he was quick to disappear, likely off to report back to Nitta.

“They’ve still got me,” Ino grinned from ear to ear, before throwing his arm up against Megumi’s shoulder. The boy gave him a bored look before shrugging him off.

(y/n) gives him a look that tells him her concern didn’t lie in their ability to handle the situation in the slightest. The greatest concern right now was that everyone’s cell phones were out of service due to the veil over the area, which effectively cut off all communication between the divided teams. The idea of splitting off from the two of them- and Megumi- unsettled her.

Since she’d arrived on the scene shortly after her brother, there had been a twist of unease in her gut. Like something was terribly wrong. Or something terrible was bound to happen.

“Unless you’re saying you can’t handle it!” Ino tries to lighten the tension currently laying itself on thick the longer she stands before them, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

If Nanami told her to go with them, she would.

Ino steps forward as Nanami turns to go over their orders with Megumi again, giving his pupils some semblance of privacy in the hopes of convincing (y/n) to follow the order handed to her. If she went against what was asked of her, he wouldn’t be able to cover for her if any casualties- property damage or lives- occurred.

If either one of them asked her to stay with them, she would.

She doesn’t react to Ino’s statement, which sends up warning flags in his head, knowing that usually she’d quip back something snarky about how she could handle this entire assignment by herself and blindfolded.

“This isn’t normal,” She tells him quietly once he’s close enough and she thinks Megumi won’t be able to eavesdrop. She doesn’t want to alarm him, but this gut feeling of hers was starting to eat her up. “They’ve never split us like this before. Something isn’t right”

Ino believes her, already having his suspicions that something was off when he’d arrived with Nanami, but even if he didn’t trust her judgment, he could see the apprehension clearly in her eyes, and that was reason enough for him to understand.

“I know,” He agrees quietly, glancing over his shoulder quickly to make sure Megumi and Nanami were still occupied. “But it’ll be fine, right?” He tells her hopefully, but the expression on her face doesn’t budge. She stares at him expectantly, silently begging him to say what she needed him to in order for her to stay. “We can handle it. It’ll probably only be a few hours anyways” Instead, he continues to try and talk her down from her worried ledge, unknowingly only pushing her further onto it.

Her jaw clenches as she bites down on her own teeth in order to keep herself from blowing up and saying something reckless.

She lets out a sigh to calm herself down before speaking.

“A lot can happen in a few hours”

Her eyes shift between his in a rapid movement, trying to convey everything in silence that she couldn’t say out loud. She’s not sure if it works, but for a brief moment, a flash of disturbance flickers over Ino’s face, like maybe in that second he was able to understand what she wasn’t saying. Just as quickly as she’d caught it, it was disappearing, and he was smiling again.

“Like two Grade One promotions, yeah?” He asks, holding his hand out to her.

That cracks the smallest of smiles out of her, easing her nerves for just a minute as she realized tonight could be the last thing she needed before finally getting her promotion. So she takes his hand and shakes it roughly with her enthusiasm. Ino chuckles to himself, about to pull away with his parting words of wishing her luck, but her fingers tighten around the curve of his hand and she doesn’t let him part from her just yet.

He’s confused when she stares up at him with a grave realness in her eyes, mixing with some other emotion he’s not sure he’s ever seen in them before. His features soften with his surprise, but before he could ask her what’s keeping her, she’s whispering a threat under her breath.

“Don’t do anything stupid”

It’s cold and harsh, just like how she used to treat him before shared assignments. But Ino knows better now. He understands the look of pure fear in her eyes as she mutters out the words like poison. And despite the way she’s almost frowning at him, he smiles brightly as he squeezes her hand back with the same fervor.

“I know,” He says, almost cheekily. She wants to be annoyed. Maybe even shake him by the collar and tell him she’ll kill him if anything happens to him. But she can only stand and stare at him with a slight gape of her mouth. “I promised,” He shrugs one of his shoulders like his words alone were enough to shield him from harm. “Can’t go back on my word”

And then their grip on each other is loosening, before their hands fall away altogether, and (y/n) has to swallow the lump in her throat before addressing Nanami and Megumi.

“Report back when you can, okay?” She asks, her weapon of choice already materializing in her hand.

“We’ll see you soon,” Nanami nods his head in acknowledgement. “Don’t let that old man boss you around. You can run circles around him” He adds with a hint of a smile on his face.

She nods back at him, already starting to grin from the adrenaline of rushing off into an unknown battle. Her eyes catch Ino’s once more, and he throws up a peace sign with his fingers, tapping his forehead with them to give her half a salute.

“See you soon, partner” ___

The gut feeling had subsided while she worked side by side with Maki and Nobara, paying as little attention to the head of the Zen’in Clan as she could. For a little while, she almost considered taking a path of teaching as she aided the girls in their attacks, although they barely needed assistance, they were more than capable of defending themselves.

But it wasn’t long before they were split up, and (y/n) took the first opportunity she could to get back to her group. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, and she tried not to worry about it as she followed Nobara and Nitta to where they presumed Nanami was. Still, her heart was pounding against her ribcage with every step she took into the station.

It wasn’t professional of her, but when she found Nanami and Itadori Yuuji, her heart leapt to her throat and was speaking for her without hesitation.

“Where’s Ino?”

Itadori was excitedly asking his mentor if the woman standing before them now was his sensei’s sister, even going so far as to tug on the man’s sleeve and beg him to introduce him properly. On another day (y/n) might have been a little flattered, but right now she nearly tunes it out completely as she awaits Nanami’s answer.

“Ran into some curse users that came crawling out of the woodwork… listen, (y/n)-”

“Where is that?” She cuts him off before he could explain further, and it’s obvious the way her entire body tenses with her impatience.

Nanami frowns, not knowing how to approach the situation calmly, but there was no time to sit down and slowly walk her through it.

“Satoru has been sealed,”

She blinks, the words barely processing at all. Maybe because it wasn’t what she was expecting, or maybe because they didn’t make a lick of sense. Either way, she stands frozen and rigid before them all, not speaking a word.

“The patchwork curse is operating with something far worse that we weren’t expecting. They had access to the prison realm. Your brother is currently inside of it. We have reason to believe that Kenjaku is playing a role and-”

“It’s Suguru, isn’t it?”

His name burns in her throat as if it was cursed so heavily just speaking it sent a poison down through her bloodstream.

Nanami’s lack of an answer tells her more than she needs to know. The information tries to take over her mind, tries to nestle itself in as a proper distraction from what her next steps were going to be.

She casts it aside completely.

“My brother is stronger than the prison realm,”

Her voice is strong, and certain. Even with the small group looking at her apprehensively, (y/n’s) positive that there’s no prison on this earth stronger than Gojo Satoru. Her faith in him as a sorcerer, and as her brother, went unmatched. He would only be offended if she worried about him right now. Using Geto Suguru was a filthy trick, however, and he- his body- would have to be dealt with accordingly.

But right now, there was a more pressing stressor she needed answers for.

“Now tell me where Ino is” ___

When she arrived on the rooftop Nanami had directed her towards, her first thought was that she had the wrong one. Her chest is heaving by the time she’s bursting through the access door, the plank of wood nearly flying off it’s hinges from her force.

She hesitates for a moment, seeing there wasn’t a fight of any sorts taking place. Nanami had said there were two curse users, and at first survey, the roof is completely empty.

Save for the slumped over figure left crumpled on the ground, barely propping themselves up with one arm against a box vent. She almost doesn’t catch him there, her instinct telling her it couldn’t possibly have been Ino himself. No, it had to have been someone else-

But then her eyes catch the small but distinct shape of a black mask on the ground not far from him, and she’s darting forward with a screech of pure terror.

“Ino!?”

His name rips from her throat so harshly a neighboring crow squawks and flies away from the startling noise.

It doesn’t take many steps to bring her towards his beaten form, but she’s sprinting the short distance anyways, dropping to her knees without any grace, scraping them up on the concrete upon impact, but the sting goes unnoticed.

She’s panting harder, the wind getting knocked out of her a second time when she properly takes in his face. It’s so covered in blood she can’t even make out where it’s coming from. As her hands slide under his jaw to lift his head, praying to any deity that will listen that it isn’t his head that’s injured, she realizes then that her eyes are filling with tears and blurring her vision.

“I- Ino,” And her voice is strained too, coming out in a choked whimper, not nearly loud enough for him to hear her if he’s unconscious. “God, no no no- fuck- fuck!”

Her mumbles turn into shouts as she drops one hand from his face to pat against his chest. She doesn’t want to be rough with him, but if he doesn’t give her some sign of life soon she was going to smack the back of her hand against his face to spur something out of him.

If she lost him now, like this, then every curse and curse user in this damn city was going to pay the gruesome, ultimate price.

He stirs with the slightest of movements, a small groan coming from his chest which she feels against her hand more than she actually hears. A gasp of surprise comes out of her, before she’s pressing closer to him, her palm flat against his front, and her other hand secure in holding his head up towards her.

“You can hear me?” She mumbles with more hope than what feels right.

“Uh-huh”

It’s pitifully quiet, but it’s a distinct answer, and it evokes a sob out of her so emotionally relieving she drops her head, barely hitting his shoulder as tears of every stage of grief pour out of her. Fear. Relief. It all hits her at once.

Ino can barely register the fact that she’s sitting before him now, pressed as close as she could get with her sobs soaking into his shoulder. But he musters all the strength he can to assure her he was still alive.

“(y/n),” Another pained mutter has her lifting her head, roughly wiping at her face with the back of her hand before leaning in close to hear him. “The curse users- th-ey h-had-”

When he starts to cough up blood between his words, she hushes him, both hands gently held under his jaw again. He hisses slightly from the touch, but doesn’t pull away from it.

She’s mumbling something, but his head is pounding too hard to make out what, and his vision is too blurry to try and read her lips. With the smallest tip of his head, he’s leaning back into the box vent with a shaky exhale.

Even with his eyes closed, the faint blue glow penetrates his eyelids, and he’s trying to gather all the strength he can to lift his head and look at her again. Although he has a sneaking suspicion of what she’s doing.

The blue light brightens, and he can just barely hear her faint mumbling, whispers sounding suspiciously like begs and pleas, before something warm and solid touches his forehead.

It takes him a minute, but eventually, he’s able to crack one eye open just enough to see what’s happening.

Her hands, still held against his jaw with trembling fingers, are glowing with cursed energy. The warmth against his forehead was that of her own, pressed close and having her so much closer that the tip of her nose ghosts over his. Her eyes are squeezed shut tightly, but there’s simply too many tears to be held back, and they fall down her face in steady streams, slipping into the corners of her mouth as she continues to slur through mumbles.

“Just this once… work just this once… never ask for anything again… never need anything more… concentrate… concentrate….” Ino can just barely make out the nonsensical string of pleas tumbling out of her lips, but it’s more than he understood before. “...has to work… have to help him… think… think… relax…”

Hearing the pain in her voice makes something in his chest lurch more than when an overpowered foot nearly cracked open his ribcage just moments ago- or was it hours? He longed to bring her some semblance of comfort, but he was too tired to move his arms, and when he tried to say something, his throat was too dry to make any sound.

The most he’s capable of, is the slight tilt in his head, pressing the crown of his head back against hers with the smallest amount of force.

It does the trick, (y/n’s) mumbling halting with a quiet gasp, her eyes fluttering open and staring wide at him, tracking any miniscule movement of his features.

He’s struggling even to keep one eye cracked open, the bruising surrounding it stinging that much more just from opening it, but he wants so badly to give her some comfort of his well-being. Even if the next breath he takes is his last.

“Ino,” She whispers, her voice heavy with emotion. “You’re gonna be alright, I’m- I’m gonna-”

Before she can finish, there’s a short shift in his neck, barely shaking his head against hers. She swallows thickly, trying to keep down the lump in her throat.

“I am, I’m gonna make it better, I’m- I’m-”

“s’Okay,” He rasps out. “Go, (y/n)”

“No!” She’s louder than she means to be, and she apologizes by pushing a loose strand of his hair out of the sticky blood on his forehead, soothingly pushing her fingers through the length of his hair to keep it from irritating his face again. She repeats the motion a few more times anxiously, and her head begins to shake against his. “No- no. I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere”

He could almost laugh, recalling being in opposite positions almost a year ago. If he had the strength, he’d remind her that she’d begged the same thing of him once, ordering him to leave as if she had any sort of authority over him.

Now Ino feared she had too much authority. He couldn’t bear to have her here if the beat of his heart kept steadily declining.

A faint sound that almost resembled a chuckle is pushed past his lips in a short breath, warm and soft as the air hits her chin.

(y/n’s) brows furrow with her confusion as she continues to push her fingers through the length of his hair. From the top of his head to the ends at the nape of his neck, she repeats it over and over, almost obsessively. She distantly recalls Satoru doing the same for her when she was younger and would have panic attacks, and it was the first thing that would calm her down. Pathetically, she hopes it’s healing power also works for physical wounds.

“s’Okay, (y/n),” Ino repeats himself, his head suddenly feeling too heavy to hold up on his own. He barely feels his nose pressing against hers before a gentle pair of hands pull him forward, guiding him to lean against something solid, and soft. His eyes were shut again as he gave into the white hot pain from every second he tried to keep them open.

Her shoulder, she’s cradling his head against his shoulder, it registers in the back of his mind as he recognizes the scent of her perfume in the fabric he was laying against, and ruining with his blood.

“m’Sorry ‘bout breaking th’ promise” He slurs into the material.

“Don’t say that,” (y/n) scolds, but her voice is weak, and she sounds far more afraid than she does angry. “Please- please don’t say that,” She repeats in an even quieter, shakier voice.

With one hand against the nape of his neck, holding him solidly against her as his body hunches forward uncomfortably, her other hand begins to move in his hair again.

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” Her words were whispered in his ear, so she was certain he couldn’t miss a single thing. “We promised, didn’t we?” She asked again. “And I- I made good on my promise, didn’t I? Didn’t I do everything you asked?” Her tears are soaking into his hair now, but she doesn’t feel an ounce of shame as she begs him to find the strength to snap out of it and wake up properly. “I let- I let myself let you in, I really, really did,”

Her eyes fall shut in a pitiful attempt at willing her tears to stop. She doesn’t want to burden him with her fear of losing him, but the emotions crashing over her were too strong for her to take on alone. Unbeknownst to her, her hands were surrounded by her cursed energy again as they kept him close.

“And now- now you’re too close to me, Ino. And I can’t- I- I can’t-” She chokes on the words, burying her face into the crook of his neck, earning a small grunt of pained acknowledgement when her nose brushes a particularly nasty bruise. “I can’t lose you, you said I wouldn’t lose you”

The hand at his nape grabs the material of the back of his uniform, fisting it so tight her knuckles trembled and ached.

The relief suddenly washing over Ino’s body was so strong that all of his muscles were relaxing at once, and he felt boneless in her hold.

(y/n) was quick to snap her eyes open and pull herself away from him, shaky, fast hands racing to check his pulse as her worst nightmare played before her eyes.

But he wasn’t lifeless in her arms, and if anything, he was relaxed. His pulse was a steady beat against the pads of her fingers, and he even found enough strength to raise his hand to her cheek. She watched with wide, shocked eyes as he barely grazed his fingers across her jaw before he was passing out in her arms.

___

When he comes to, his eyes blink a few times to prepare himself for light, but to his surprise, he’s met with darkness. It still takes a few rough squeezes of his eyelids before Ino’s able to properly open his eyes all the way, and the darkness he was greeted with was properly laid before him as the night sky.

He was outside?

“What the-?” The mutter comes from under his breath, but before he could make sense of his surroundings, someone was scrambling to his side, his name falling from their recognizable, pretty voice like a mantra.

And (y/n’s) voice in that moment was heavenly to his ears. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, and his mind was foggy when he tried to recall when he’d seen her last, but he had a sinking feeling like it had been a long time, and all he knew now was that he felt pure relief when her face came into view beside him. Then shortly after, a small hand slipped into his own, squeezing firmly, but not too tight.

“(y/n),” His throat burns hot when he speaks, but he tries to ignore it as he gives her a weak smile. Everything aches, but he’d try his best to keep his pain hidden. “How long was I out?”

“About a day” She murmurs back, softer than he thinks he’s ever heard her speak. He thinks she’s hiding something, but he doesn’t press for it right away. He’d need to get his bearings first.

He tries to look around, hoping for something of significance to give him an idea of where he was, but all that surrounds them is a few plots of grass and some shoddy tents pitched up. There’s a fire burning a few feet behind where she kneels beside him, and his brows furrowed slightly. What the hell was going on?

“And where are we?”

Her free hand reaches for his face, and he holds his breath when the tips of her fingers gently push a piece of hair away from a line of stitches just above his previous scar. There’s a small frown on her face.

“Just outside Yamanashi,” She answers, then quickly adds, “At least I think. It’s hard to tell without a proper map”

Ino’s eyes widen so much they almost bulge out of his head, and (y/n’s) quick to react to his shock.

“Don’t freak out,” She murmurs, squeezing his hand gently as she leaned over closer to him. “You still need to rest, you have a lot of healing to-”

“(y/n),” He interrupts her, and surprisingly she lets him. She sits before him patiently waiting for the question she’d been dreading for an entire day. “What happened in Shibuya?”

She sits beside him for a long time as she explains the entire incident in grave detail. Not a single stone left unturned, Ino sits in silence for almost a full hour as she feeds it to him like it was her drafted report on the assignment.

She explains that after she fled Shibuya with his unconscious body, they quickly ran into Megumi Yuuji, and the new ally they’d made out of one of the Cursed Wombs’. Yuuji was quick to carry Ino on his back as they tried to cover as much ground as possible. With Shibuya becoming a modern-day wasteland, and Kenjaku’s next move unsure, their only goal was to move.

And that’s what brought them here, to the middle of nowhere where they could figure out what their next move was. With only a few survival supplies and limited rations of food and water, it hadn’t been an easy day and a half.

When she’s finished, she remains silent for as long as he needs. Processing it all- Nanami, Satoru, the first year Nobara, all of Shibuya- would surely take him some time. (y/n) gets up and pokes at the fire for a few minutes while Ino sits in shock as he repeats it all in his head. When she comes back over to him, he’s pushed himself to sit up on top of the nylon blanket against the grass.

“You should really lie down and-”

“I’m alright” He mumbles over her concern, and she simply sits beside him on the wrinkly plastic disguised as a blanket. She doesn’t push him about it again.

Not knowing what to say, she doesn’t say anything. Just sits beside him to keep him company while he processes it all. Truthfully, she’d had little time to really let it all settle in. With the running and worrying over the length of his unconscious state, there was little time left to think about the aftermath of the whole incident. She wondered how the others were taking it, if they’d stopped and let themselves think for longer than a minute. They’d all resigned to their makeshift tents for the night, and she didn’t have it in her to play caretaker and check on them at the moment. That was always the role Satoru took on. But tomorrow she’d sit down with them and check in.

“You found me,”

Ino speaks after a long silence, and (y/n) glances over at him for a brief moment, before returning to stare at the ground.

“After those curse users, after Toji,” He continues, piecing together the vague images in his memory to better understand what happened. “You found me after that”

He’s not asking, he’s talking through what he remembers, but (y/n) nods in confirmation.

“Nanami told me where you were,” She says softly. “I came as fast as I could, but… it wasn’t fast enough” The last part comes out under her breath, full of regret and guilt.

“Seems like you were just in time to me,” Ino says, turning to look at her. She refuses to meet his gaze, too ashamed by her delayed arrival. “For a minute there I didn’t think I’d see you again. Thought I was a goner. You’d be adding my name to the…” He trails off, not quite wanting to address the long list of lives lost in Shibuya.

And he notices she tenses up, one of her hands fisting a handful of grass, ripping a few strands straight from the dirt with her tight grip. Ino frowns, and shuffles over to sit closer to her. Until they’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. He groans as he pulls his legs up, resting his arms over his knees to get more comfortable. Everything feels stiff, but he tries to push past it.

“You figured out the Reverse Cursed Technique, hm?” He asks, trying to change the subject. He gives her a small smile at the accomplishment, but she’s still not looking at him. “That’s pretty huge. You’re surely a functioning Grade One sorcerer now”

That’s when she finally turns her head to meet his gaze, finding nothing but fondness in his eyes as he smiles at her. He’s proud of her, she realizes, and she can’t believe that now of all times he’s trying to comfort her. Takuma Ino was too good for this world. And he was certainly too good for her.

“I don’t care” She mumbles, shaking her head back and forth as her eyes flicker over the healing cuts and bruises on his face. The few stitches he needed looked a bit gnarly as they’d been done in a rush from shaky hands. A frown tugs on her lips the longer she takes in his injuries.

“You should,” He tells her. “You worked for a long time for it. And you’ve earned it,”

She’s quiet for a moment as she takes in the statement. The injuries she’d sustained had healed by now, but her chest still hurt somehow.

Slowly, more and more of his memory comes back to him. He can remember the way she’d sobbed, pained wails that came from so deep within her he could hear it now in his memory. They could’ve easily been mistaken as the screams of a woman tortured, the way she’d cried out his name. He thinks he can recall her crying the entire time she tended to him.

“I’m sorry I scared you” He tells her suddenly, and her eyes widen in the slightest at the apology.

“Scared me,” She repeats in a small mumble, lips barely moving. “That doesn’t even begin to explain what you put me through,”

He frowns with his guilt, and he wants to remind her that he’d told her to leave. Although if she had, he might not have woken up again.

“You…” She trails off as she thinks twice about what she’s going to say. “You have no idea what you put me through,” She admits in a smaller voice.

Her eyes flicker between his as she watches him process the confession, before she continues.

“I don’t know what I… I don’t know how I did it, honestly. I’m not sure I could do it again,” She explains. “I just remember feeling so… hurt doesn’t even begin to explain it. I was terrified, Ino. I thought you were…” She shakes her head, a lump forming in her throat at the mere suggestion of what could have happened to him. “I was so scared” She mumbles weakly, her brows drawing together.

Hesitantly, Ino lowered his hand until it rested over hers. She loosened her grip on the grass, relaxing just the slightest amount from his touch. Her heart was still racing as she recalled the way he’d barely been able to move, or how he’d tried to apologize for breaking his promise to her. It was like there was an invisible, but iron grip on her throat, squeezing all of the air out of her lungs as she looked at him now.

“You’re my hero now, you know,” He murmurs, tilting his head a bit as a tiny smile stretches over his lips. “You saved my life”

Her hand twitches under his, and it shakes as she releases the grass in order to turn it over, slotting her fingers between his. She squeezes, hard, making sure that he would be enough to anchor her to reality.

“You saved mine, too” She whispers back, the burn in her throat evident in the strain in her voice. Against her will, her eyes gloss over with tears.

He gives her a sad smile, and squeezes her hand back.

“Don’t cry,” He pleads quietly, his body angling towards her as he reaches his free hand out to her face, palm hovering just over her cheek as he wipes away her single tear with the rough pad of his thumb. “Please,” He added softly as her eyes bore into his like she was trying to penetrate his skull and read his thoughts. “Don’t think I can handle hearin’ you cry anymore” He admits.

(y/n) let’s out a watery and humorless little chuckle, another tear falling to her cheek that he’s just as quick to dry away. She leans into the hovering warmth of his hand, pressing her cheek against it with only the thought of being comforted by him on her mind. Ino’s quick to spread his fingers across her cheek and jaw, unconsciously pulling her closer as he did.

“You remember that?” She mumbles, and he nods back at her.

“Don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it,” He tells her. “You scared me too, y’know”

Her brows furrow at him.

“I did?”

Ino nods.

“I didn’t like… being separated,” He admits slowly. “I know you were fine, hell, you were better off than I was, but… not knowing where you were or if you were safe was…” He clenches his draw, and (y/n) nods at him in understanding.

“I would’ve stayed,” She murmurs. “If you’d asked me to stay, I would’ve stayed”

Ino’s not sure if his heart was going to burst in his chest or sink to his gut. All he wants right now is to wrap her up in his arms as tight as he can and never let her out of his sight again.

“I know,” He whispers back, making her frown. “But I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t have been right. Your team needed you,”

Another tear makes it’s way down her cheek, but it doesn’t get far before he’s brushing it away like the others.

“I didn’t want to do anything to stand in the way of your promotion,” He says, and she frowns back at him. “It wouldn’t have been fair-”

“That doesn’t matter to me, not right now- maybe not at all,” She cuts him off before he could explain himself, and he looks shocked. Rightfully so, since meeting her he’s known that becoming a Grade One was the only thing that mattered to her. His lips part and his brows furrow, but he doesn’t know what to say, so she explains herself first. “Ino, I really thought I was going to lose you,” She tells him with a tight squeeze of his hand. “That promotion has been the farthest thing from my mind. What would it have mattered?” She shakes her head as she watches him, sniffling just a little before speaking again. “It would have meant nothing, if you weren’t there with me, too,”

Ino softened then, his thumb stalling from it’s gentle tracing of her cheekbone as he took in the sincerity of her words.

A year ago, she might’ve told him to eat shit if he’d something of the same sort to her. Six months ago she would’ve laughed it off and deflected like it was some kind of joke. Right now, he thinks his heart was going to fall right out of his chest and into her awaiting hands.

(y/n) shuffles anxiously the longer he sits in silence.

“Ino, say something” She mumbles, hoping he wouldn’t make her beg for some sort of reaction.

He chuckles, his thumb moving over her cheekbone once, then twice, before giving into temptation and curling his fingers around the back of her neck to pull her in closer.

Her eyes are shut before his lips slot themselves over hers, but despite leaning into the kiss there’s a small squeak of surprise that dies in the back of her throat when their lips touch. She kisses him back with as much fervor as she can while still being mindful of his injuries. She only hopes that he can feel the outpour of emotions with every kiss, the soft sensation of each one leaving a tingle on her lips.

Her hands reach out to lay at the base of his neck, her touch nearly featherlight with how gentle she tries to treat him. Ino’s less careful, pulling her closer until she finally gives in to deepening their kiss, paying no mind to the dull ache in his jaw. It was easy to forget when her perfect soft lips fit against his like they were made to be kissed by him.

After pulling away for a breath of air, he places one more kiss on her lips, lingering for as long as he could before finally parting from her. It takes her a minute to open her eyes, still reeling from the sudden affection.

With her heart in the clouds and her mind in a lovesick haze, she was still lost in the heavy feelings that were the way she felt about him. Ino chuckles when his eyes open only to find her lost in a daze, sweetly cupping her face in both hands and keeping her as close to him as he could.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, lips ghosting over hers, sending a shiver down her spine. She finally looks up at him, catching her lip between her teeth to keep herself from grinning too hard. “I just wanted to do that for so long. Couldn’t wait anymore”

A breathless little laugh falls from her, her hands sliding around the nape of his neck so her fingers could mindlessly play with the soft locks of hair that fell there. Her cheeks were undeniably warm, and Ino could feel them when she pushed closer to brush her nose against his sweetly.

“Wanted you to do that, too” She murmurs back, and the smile Ino gives her is bittersweet.

He sighs softly as he pulls her in gently, just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, the weight of the apology hanging thick in the air.

She doesn’t want to talk anymore about what’s happened, doesn’t really want to think about it either. Going through it had been rough enough already, processing it was going to be a bitch. She has to shut her eyes to hide the emotion, or at least, keep herself from crying again.

“I’m so sorry,” Ino repeats. “And I’m sorry I was out for so long”

“That’s nothing you should apologize over,” (y/n) chided through a breath. “I’m just relieved you’re alright, that’s all that matters to me right now, okay?”

He tilts his head away from hers, just enough to look back at her. He frowns when her eyes are squeezed shut, thumbing gently at the top of her cheekbones to pry her into looking at him again. It takes her a minute before opening teary eyes. Even with her packing up the last day and a half into a box and forcing it into the darkest corner of her mind, she couldn’t hide all of it from Ino. Not when he stared at her as if he could see straight through to the soul.

It’s a blurry memory, but he can vaguely recall the way she’d cried while holding him. Clearer than the image is the way her voice cracked and whined in his ear, I can’t lose you, you said I wouldn’t lose you. He’d held his promise this long, and Ino very much intends to stick to it.

He plants his lips at the crown of her head, and the comforting affection surprises her a bit, but she just as quickly falls into him. Her arms loop around his neck and her fingers dig into his shoulders, anchoring herself to him as if he alone would keep her in this moment, and away from that dark corner.

“Still,” He insists quietly. “I should’ve been there for you,”

(y/n’s) not sure she’s ever felt love swell in her chest the way she does now. It washes over her in a heavy wave, filling her with relief, and warmth, but most importantly hope. For the first time, she doesn’t fear it, or discard it as a pointless venture.

Things were different now, she decided, her eyes moving between his and the injuries still littered across his face. They would heal just fine, but they were still a gnarly sight to look at now. It made the warm relief in her chest begin to burn. So things were different now because they had to be. Things were different now because she had something she was going to fight for.

Love wasn’t pointless. Love was what was going to push her through whatever horror was next in line.

“Cause we’re partners” Ino finished, his brows twitching ever so slightly as he watched something unknown flash in her eyes. They light up for a moment, before she’s nodding back at him, staring at him with the utmost sincerity.

A small “yeah,” is whispered between shaky nods, and her grip on his shoulders tightens just enough for Ino to notice. His lips tilt upwards.

She’s still quiet when she speaks, but it’s not due to the lump in her throat. It’s from true, genuine love pouring out of her so openly that her voice is practically snatched from her. She squeezes his shoulders once more.

“Partners” ___

a/n: well that was my 23k word ino fic that i had to split up bc it was too damn big. laugh it up how in love with him after thirty seconds of screentime

#takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino imagine #takuma ino fanfiction #ino x reader #ino imagine #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year

Note

If you’re interested dear writer, a protag who used to be beholden to something powerful, but fled and found safety in someone else, a powerful mentor figure of some sort, only to find out that years later the villain has gained the ability of possession—not because they’ve possessed the protag, but the mentor they thought so strong

"No." They were torn, ravaged, between sick horror and an even more nauseating relief. Their mentor hadn't betrayed them, hadn't been playing them. But their mentor... "Get out of him." The protagonist's voice shook. "You can't - they're -"

Their mentor was supposed to be too powerful for anyone to take, to hurt. He was supposed to be untouchable. He wasn't supposed to be yet another puppet for the villain's insidious designs.

Their mentor's head tilted and it was - it was still such a them gesture that the protagonist had to take several large steps back to lean against the opposite wall before their legs gave out.

"Get," the protagonist said again, "out."

As if commands would work, as if their relationship with the villain had ever been of the sort where they gave the orders. As if it was all as simple as no, and don't, and please.

The protagonist summoned power to their fingertips. It felt like waving a candle in the face of an avalanche. Pathetic.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the villain said. "I would never hurt you."

The villain's voice still sounded like their mentor's voice. Gruff and reassuring. The protagonist would have preferred the eerie strain of vocal chords stolen, of something forcibly taken, because hearing the villain's words in their mentor's voice was so much worse.

"How long?" the protagonist demanded, a rancid taste in their mouth. "How long have you been possessing him?"

It felt like they should know. It felt like the worst treachery that they didn't know, that they hadn't noticed. They prayed it was a matter of hours, days, even a week or two.

They tried not to think what the hell they were going to do, when the one person they thought would - could - protect them had been taken.

"You don't want to make a guess?"

"How. Long."

The villain wet their lips. A hungry gesture, something dark and insatiable creeping out beneath the familiar veneer of safety.

The power in the hero's hands flickered and snuffed.

"A little over a year," the villain said.

"No." The protagonist shook their head, a lump in their throat. "You're lying - no."

"I have never lied to hurt you."

"Possessing someone is lying." And it hurt. It hurt like the world was falling down.

"Possessing him didn't hurt you." The villain moved closer, as if they had every right to do so, and squeezed the nape of the protagonist's neck like their mentor so often did. It should have been grounding. It felt like a greater violation that it still felt grounding. Like the villain had stolen all of their mentor's tricks, hijacked muscle memory and instinct for their own purpose. "It gave you the time you needed, kept you safe."

"He kept me safe."

The villain smirked, a slip of a cruel intoxicating thing. "Not for the past year, he didn't."

The protagonist recoiled.

The villain's hand moved, lightning-quick, cupping the back of their head and stopping them from smacking it against the wall.

The protagonist froze. They peered up at their mentor's face, searching for the monster beneath the surface. The thing that they had run from. The thing that had, for the last year...

"Besides," their villain said, voice low. "You basically just ran to another version of me. It's actually quite sweet."

"He's nothing like you."

"You couldn't tell the difference."

The protagonist flinched. "I-"

"You ran to something powerful, something greater than you." The villain squeezed again, harder, even as their voice softened to something more like their own. "Because you're not strong enough to protect yourself. You've never been strong enough on your own. What if he'd hurt you, hm?"

"He's not you. He wouldn't-"

"-When have I ever hurt you?"

"You'd swallow me whole." It came out a whisper, as pathetic as their power compared to the villain.

The villain smiled, a terribly gentle thing. "And wouldn't that be my right?"

"He'd say no."

"That's because he wants you all to himself."

"No."

"Yes." The villain stepped back, but it didn't make the protagonist feel any less crowded in, any less smothered, any less like they were wrapped in the coils of a serpent about to be devoured. "And if you wanted otherwise, you would have noticed far earlier that he wasn't running the show. It was always going to be us. It's always us. You and me."

Maybe the villain was right. The protagonist hadn't noticed, had they? And - as they'd grown closer to their mentor in the last year, they'd felt so safe and so wanted. Maybe their mentor didn't want them at all. Maybe that was the possession.

No. No.

The protagonist squeezed their eyes shut, pressing their trembling hands over their face. That wasn't the point. It couldn't be the point.

"He's in there?"

"Come home," the villain said. "And don't run away again, and I won't need his body anymore."

"I want to talk to him. I want - I need to know that he's okay."

The villain stared at them for a beat.

"Please." The protagonist tried it anyway. "I can't leave without knowing he's okay. He was - you can appreciate that he kept me safe, right? When I was an idiot. Safe for you."

A shudder ran through the villain, and then something else crept into their mentor's eyes. Fear. Fury. Protectiveness.

"Don't go with them. It's not your fault," their mentor said, rushed. "I wanted to protect you, so I told them what to say, how to behave. It was better than-"

In an instant, the villain was back in control.

The protagonist stared, wide-eyed. Everything slid towards horror.

The villain's breathing was a little heavy. Their hands flexed at their sides.

"You're mine." The villain turned away. "And he can't protect you from anything, let alone me. Come home. It will be your chance to protect someone else for once, won't it?"

The protagonist went back to the place they would never, ever, call home again.

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #antagonist and protagonist #protagonist and antagonist #creative writing #fiction #fic #ficlet #short story #writing snippet #story snippet #possession

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imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn · 5 months

Text

When Our Stars Cross Paths; III Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Slapping

Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem @thxmiss @storiesofmyhead

🎬Mood boards🎬

You were really starting to regret showing up.

Holding out your hand for the taller boy to shake, you hadn’t expected a warm reception or even a polite acknowledgment. After all, your people were the reason he was in this awful situation to begin with. However, these doubts weren’t going to deter you from making an effort.

So when Treech made no move to shake your hand you tried to not take it personally. A feat that became exceptionally harder as you glanced over towards the District twelve cart where you saw how well Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were getting on.

Your gaze drifted back towards your tribute’s, who had failed to take his eyes off of yours since you had made your presence known. Cold, calculating eyes studying you, as if you were his prey that he was in the middle of stalking. His stare didn’t hold any anger per say, but rather mistrust and suspicion. Something you had seen when first approaching many of the other tributes you had previously offered food to.

Gradually becoming more uncomfortable by the growing tension, you decided to offer the District seven pair food from your canvas bag in an attempt to diminish some of their skepticism—or rather Treech’s skepticism and Lamina’s outright terror. Shifting your bag off of your shoulder, you held the tote out towards the two.

“Would either of you like some food or water?”

You gave the pair a soft smile, praying they wouldn’t let their hesitancy prevent them from taking what was most likely their first meal in days. You were overjoyed when Lamina took a step forward out from behind Treech and towards the bag, her vibrant red hair glittering as she entered the sunlight. Yet your hopes were once again squashed as Treech held out his arm to prevent the younger girl from moving closer towards you. His umber brown eyes never once leaving your gaze.

“Don’t.”

His voice broke the ever growing silence, this being the first thing he had said to you throughout your short interaction. You weren’t sure if he was ordering Lamina to not come towards you, or rather demanding of you to step away from them. No matter his intention, Lamina shrunk away from the bag, despite her eyes showing an obvious temptation to go against the older boy and pursue the food she so desperately needed. While you wouldn’t force any of tributes to take anything from you, you wouldn’t deny the frightened girl food even if her district partner didn’t approve. So reaching into the canvas to pull out a water bottle and a persimmon, you held the offerings out towards the girl who’s eyes seemed to widen at the sight of the drink and fruit. However she still appeared to be to scared to take the food from you while the disapproval of Treech loomed over her.

“It’s okay Lamina, these are for you.”

This time Lamina didn’t wait for Treech to stop her and quickly scampered towards your hands to collect her treats, giving a final glance into your eyes as if she was scared you would pull the food away at the last second. However, after you offered a gentle smile and a small nod, the last of her worries were put to rest and she quickly snatched up the fruit and bottle. You involuntarily shivered as her cold hands brushed against your own, not failing to notice the dirt that caked the inside of her nails from long days of working in the forests back home. You suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the girl and a desperation to help her stay alive, when you were reminded of the tribute you could in fact save-who also happened to be standing right in front of you. Taking your eyes off Lamina, who was currently peeling her persimmon, you brought your gaze back up towards the taller boy.

And oh fuck was he pissed.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?”

Treech was clearly infuriated by your persistence in talking to the two of them—which was largely due to your inherent stubbornness, as well as Lamina’s approaching of you, even after he deemed you untrustworthy. The stare that once held only skepticism and wariness, now contained a multitude of resentment and irritation. You were just about to start fearing for your safety when a piercing whistle broke through the air.

“All tributes into the van, now!”

Peacekeepers began marching over towards District seven pair, and you saw this as your cue to make your way down to the other districts you hadn’t reached yet to offer them food and drink as well. Remembering the little girls who couldn’t have been older than twelve that you had seen during the Reapings, you felt especially desperate to make sure they were hydrated and well fed. However, as you attempted to move around the pair you had previously been standing with, you felt a strong hand suddenly grab onto your arm, sending you stumbling backwards into a solid chest.

Twisting around to meet your assailant, you sent your hand flying across the face of who you assumed was a peacekeeper. Unfortunately to your horror the groans you heard upon impact did not belong to a grown man, but rather a teenage boy. Now mortified at the knowledge that you had just slapped your tribute-who’s safety you were responsible for, you sheepishly brought your gaze up towards Treech, who was rubbing his own hand against his cheek, clearly more shocked than angered at you hitting him.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You were taken aback by his words. Not only for the fact that his voice had lost the sharp edge it previously held, but also that he cared more about you answering what you had assumed was a rhetorical question, than you striking him across the face. You felt your face heat up as you gazed into his still hard set eyes, unsure of how to answer his question, you had already informed him that you were his mentor.

luckily for you, your embarrassment was cut short by a peacekeeper pulling on Treech’s shoulder and yanking him towards a van that was parked on the opposite side of the train station. The taller boy tried to fight against the armed man, but his attempts were quickly shut down by a gun being nudged into his back. Treech spared one last look towards you as he was marched off towards the van, witnessing a slight scowl on his face as he eventually left your range of sight. Lamina, who you hadn’t noticed had already left, was waiting for him by the doors. Next to her was Lucy Gray and who you assumed was her district partner, Jessup.

You shifted your canvas bag back onto your shoulder, disappointed that you weren’t able to meet the rest of the tributes from the lower districts, who were currently being rounded up. The number of peacekeepers eventually dwindled as the last of the tributes were shoveled into the van, and you were just about to turn around and head for the exit when a flash of vibrant red clothing caught your eye.

Coriolanus was sneaking into the van with the tributes.

You wouldn’t usually think of yourself as an impulsive person, however something in your gut told you to follow your classmate. If not for your own curiosity than his safety. So watching diligently to ensure the remaining few peacekeepers’ attention was diverted, you swiftly made your way across the train station and hauled yourself into the now cramped vehicle.

You regretted your decision almost immediately.

A/N

So sorry for the short chapter and lack of updates this week as i’ve been sick, however more chapters are definitely on the way and i’m really excited to start building the relationship between Treech and our mc! I promise my posting schedule will start to be more often and consistent, please bare with me and thank you so much for your kind words and comments 😊

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itsabouttimex2 · 1 month

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A Brand New Journey:

Part Five

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

Macaque has always been so good to you. Even from the first day you accidentally stumbled onto him, he had been kind.

Your arm had been gashed open by an unfortunate fall, dripping blood and throbbing in pain with each shaky step forward. Although you had hoped to get home before dark and patch yourself up with an ever dwindling first-aid kit, praying that there were enough bandages and antiseptic left for the wound.

But then there were two sets of footsteps close behind, spurring you to disregard caution and start sprinting down the street-

Whereupon you had bumped into one very strange demon, wearing an inconspicuous ru and sporting a tattered scarf.

“Going somewhere, kiddo? You shouldn’t be in such a rush, you now. You might get hurt. Ah, but…”

His hand then shot forward to clamp around your wrist, turning it over to examine your bleeding forearm.

“Looks like you already did, huh? Here, let me just…”

Rip. Shriiiip.

The precise shredding of thick fabric, his clawed fingers cutting a rectangular strip from the already ragged scarf. He had placed one end on your wrist, then gave you a strange grin.

“Hang in there, kiddo.” The simian warned you almost too late, given barely a second to brace for the stinging pain of having a wound forcibly bound shut with naught but pressure and cloth.

Biting back a wail and a set of fresh tears, you watched the monkey demon firmly tie off the end of the makeshift bandage.

It had been such a simple thing to do- but you still cherished him for it all the same.

How you’ve come to cherish your precious mentor, who stares down at you now with a strange smile.

Lifting a sleeve to your puffy eyes, an effort is made to stand up- only for Macaque to push you back down.

“I don’t think you’re steady enough for that just yet, kiddo.” Base words to convince you to do as he says, and you believe him. You always do.

Have you ever not believed him? Even for a moment, has there ever been any doubt in your heart?

He wraps the crimson scarf a little tighter around you, making sure that it covers your shoulders and neck.

“Now, what’d you bring all the way out here? You really should know better than to carry such a fancy bag in a neighborhood like this, kiddo.”

Was this all your fault?

Maybe you should’ve wrapped the mooncakes up in something less appealing- grabbed one of the disposable plastic brown sacks from a grocery store before heading in.

How easy would that have been?

“I wanted to share a meal with you,” is the dull response you give, newly downcast and despondent. “I brought mooncakes and tea.”

“Aww, aren’t you just a gem? Just the nicest.”

Nice. Anyone can be nice, can’t they? But it’s a lot harder to be clever or strong or capable.

Maybe he’d be happier with a different student.

Maybe if you were less nice and more-

“C’mon, kiddo- are you eating or not?”

He’s already got everything ready, the mooncakes strewn across his coffee table, the bottles of tea in the microwave.

Strange. You never even saw him get up.

He notices your questioning eyes, and quickly shifts the subject.

“Real sweet of you to bring this all the way out- I’m guessing you got a good deal, if you brought all of this?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah, I, uh, I’ve been using an app that tells me about local deals, y’know? Saves some money, and, um, all that.”

“Smart,” he praises, and a rush of euphoria races through you at just that one word. It feels almost pathetic to rely so heavily on someone’s praise to feel good about yourself. Still, you can’t help but adore each moment he breaks from his reserved norm and drops an honest compliment.

“Go put your stuff up and get changed, kiddo. I’ll pour the tea and get cushions.”

An actual sit-down meal with your mentor! You wouldn’t just be snacking and chatting on the couch this time!

Jumping to your feet, you excitedly race to the guest room, painted in a smooth purple and decorated with black curtains. He had essentially given it to you, letting you settle in with him at least semi-permanently.

A shelf right next to your bed is stocked with mementos, most of them memories you’ve shared with Macaque. A little snap-together set you had convinced him to put together with you, a bright mecha built from colorful blocks. By the end of the build, you had learned that he’d much rather watch than try to fiddle pieces together with his claws.

A framed photo beside it of something that Macaque had enjoyed much more- pumpkin carving. In place of a serrated knife or design card, he had taken great joy in simply shredding precise diamonds into the thick orange hide of the vegetable. The carved gourd had looked something like a lantern by the end of his fun. It had even put him a good enough mood to allow for a photo to be taken.

And you had a photo of you, MK, and Mister Pigsy to put up, but-

Enough reminiscing! Your mentor is waiting for you, after all.

You throw on the coziest thing you have in the closet- an old nightgown, long abraded to softness. Black as night and cool to the touch, decorated with purple cloud embroidery. And it never seemed to stop smelling of plums, a scent you had grown familiar with very quickly.

You aren’t quite sure where it came from, or when you got it- just that it’s a few sizes too big and pools around you comfortably.

Shoes off, bag placed carefully in the corner, and then you’re racing back out to meet Macaque in the living room.

You don’t notice two golden-eyed figures slinking out of the shadows and into your room.

The coffee table is prepared, the bottled tea is poured into mugs and the mooncakes are laid out two by two. He’s even put your little sitting cushion beside his instead of across.

You quickly take your seat, Macaque’s hand coming to ruffle your hair.

“Are we ‘expanding my horizons’ again today, kiddo? An ice cream day wasn’t enough?”

“I want you to try nice things,” is your protest, causing his golden eyes to soften.

“That’s… sweet of you,” he admits, folding his arms. “Really, Y/N.”

“…yeah,” you awkwardly respond, grabbing one of the napkins Macaque had set out. You grab one of the mooncakes and wrap it, then pass it to your mentor. “Do you, uh, know what’s inside this one?”

The sable simian lifts the pastry to his nose, sniffing intently. Quickly, his face scrunches up. “Tsk. More ice cream? Not in all of them, I’m hoping. Unless you’re trying to give me cavities, kiddo.”

“No, there’s only four with ice cream- and we’ve got two of them right now. I know you don’t like your food too sweet.”

“You’re a good kid,” he chuckles, biting into the mooncake. Vanilla ice cream leaks from the middle, oozing onto his tongue.

In turn you munch on your own, slowly leaning your head onto his shoulder.

Macaque doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your form, yanking you closer.

“You’re a good kid,” he says again, an ancient look in his golden eyes. There’s a newfound contentedness in them, and a pang of something much darker boiling underneath that new satisfaction. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

Swallowing down the last bit of the sweet pastry, you nod. “Sure, Macaque.”

“Nothing big- just I wanna know how you feel about me, kiddo.”

…something is scraping around in the room Macaque has fixed up for you.

“Keep looking,” a quiet and steady voice says. “They wouldn’t have just left it anywhere.”

“Shut up,” another angrily returns. “Don’t tell me what to do, Rumble! You’re lucky that I’m even helping you!”

“…you’re the one who wanted to come in here and look, Savage.”

“Shut up! Hurry up and throw me their bag!”

With a groan, Rumble carries your backpack to his ‘brother’ and drops it in front of him.

“Be quick,” he cautiously reminds. “Those mooncakes won’t last forever.”

“…I didn’t find the book,” Savage snarls, his crimson fingers hitting glass.

“But I did find something.”

And slowly, he pulls out the photo of you and your friends.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Macaque #Yandere Rumble #Yandere Savage #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Choose Your Own Adventure #A Brand New Journey #Yandere Mentor

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