#and that one day at the beach when I felt that the clouds and the sun looked like a portal to heaven

[galaxywarp]

I just did some really helpful guided meditation.

A few years ago I had a dream that I met God. I can’t remember all of the details of the dream. I remember everything being bright and warm but also soft. I couldn’t see her face but I know she was female. She asked me if I wanted to hold the universe in my hands. She asked me in a way that was very excited — it reminded me of an excited kid running to show you a frog it found (I remember thinking that was significant. Not something she made. Something she found).

I said yes and she placed the universe in my hands and the galaxies tickled my palms as they swirled. I woke up nearly on the verge of tears with an overwhelming sense of peace and warmth.

That meditation I did just now. Thinking about some of the experiences I’ve had. Dreams. Feelings. I.

I think my god is the Sun.

[delulujuls]

the other one | jacaerys velaryon

hi, here comes the 2.7k of i don't know what, really. its for sure intense, so fasten up your saddle and enjoy the ride. i enjoyed making aegon such a cutiepie in my two last shots, but this man is designed to be a menace to humanity so yeah, i believe im gonna lose it in the next shots. prepare for chaos.

summary: heart want what it wants, and y/n's heart belong to young prince from dragonstone, not to the future cruel king of westeros.

warnings: targaryen brothers being mean to velaryon boys AGAIN, aegon is such a meanie oh god, fighting, arguing, threatening with a sword, last scene is smelling a bit like a rap3, so feel free to skip it. your comfort is the most important

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. jealous, possesive and dark!aegon targaryen)

Two young princes stood at the gates of the castle, awaiting guests. For several minutes they kept glancing at the sky, looking out for dragons. However, only the sound of wind and waves crashing against the rocks could be heard, with no indication that any winged beasts would soon appear before their eyes.

“Do you think they’ll come at all?” Lucerys asked his older brother, glancing at him. The cold wind chilled him to the bone, and the youngest of the Velaryons longed to return inside and sit by the fireplace.

Jacaerys did not get a chance to answer because shortly after, a muffled roar reached their ears, and something flickered in the low-hanging storm clouds. The heavy sky was pierced by the massive body of Vhagar, who was the first to emerge from the clouds and flew towards the beach. Close behind were Vermithor and Sunfyre, who looked dainty in comparison to those two giant dragons. Aemond, Y/N, and Aegon had arrived at Dragonstone.

Soon after, all four appeared at the castle gates. Helaena was flying with her older sister on Vermithor, choosing not to sail by ship with their mother, father, and grandfather. The youngest of the siblings still couldn't bring herself to travel alone on the back of her Dreamfyre, but felt confident with Y/N, now walking hand-in-hand with her sister towards the castle.

Lucerys took a step back, seeing Aemond and Aegon confidently striding towards them. The youngest Velaryon swallowed hard.

“I hope they don’t sit close to us,” he whispered, prompting his brother to discreetly nudge his arm.

Jacaerys smiled at the sight of the siblings. “Welcome, it’s good to see you here,” he said.

Aemond, leading the way, wore his characteristic grimace, nothing like the smile the young prince offered him. The last thing he felt like doing was feigning politeness. In silence, he merely glanced at them, bypassing them and pushing the heavy gate doors.

“My favorite, strong nephews,” Aegon said sarcastically, with a mocking smile. Passing by, he nudged Lucerys in the shoulder, who was about to turn and say something when his aunt’s voice reached his ears. Y/N smiled joyfully at the sight of Rhaenyra’s sons.

“Luke, Jace,” she extended her arms, hugging them both at once. Hearing the girl's joyful voice, Aegon glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. He thought his sisters were too lenient with those bastards.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Jacaerys smiled, embracing her and catching the smell of her lavender-scented hair. While he sincerely disliked Aemond and Aegon, he was very fond of their sisters. Helaena was shy and harmless, often speaking little and nodding more. Y/N, on the other hand, often reminded him of his mother, unafraid to speak up or defend her position. She was also wise and very pretty, and he was genuinely pleased to spend a few days in her presence.

“Are you coming, or are we going to freeze out here like a bunch of idiots?” Aegon asked sharply, seeing Y/N hold onto older Velaryon a bit too long. The young princess gave him an amused look, tousled Lucerys’ hair, and linked arms with Helaena. The four of them briskly walked towards the castle.

Rhaenyra was celebrating her thirty-second name day, so the entire family from King’s Landing had come to Dragonstone. Viserys wanted his daughter to celebrate her birthday in the capital, but she wished to spend the day her way. The ailing king, still battling illness, had no intention of arguing with his daughter, lacking the strength and health to do so. Even to the Targaryen seat, he chose to sail by ship rather than ride on the back of one of the dragons. After Balerion’s death, he had given up flying and now didn’t think about it at all.

During the evening feast, the dining hall filled with people. Despite it being Rhaenyra’s day, Viserys sat at the head of the table. To his left was his eldest daughter, beside her Daemon, Joffrey, Lucerys, Jacaerys, Rhaena, and Baela. On the king’s right sat his wife, next to her the Hand of the King, then Aemond, Aegon, Y/N, Helaena, and Rhaenys Targaryen, next to whom, at the other end of the table, sat Corlys Velaryon.

The feast went on in a calm and surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Previous feasts often ended in arguments before they even really began. The main instigators of all disputes, Aemond and Aegon, sat quietly, not speaking much. Many might have thought someone stuffed hay into the dragons’ bellies to prevent them from breathing fire.

Aegon, however, increasingly clenched his hand around the wine goblet from time to time, hearing Y/N happily talking with Jacaerys across the table. His blood boiled hearing her so delighted with the conversation with him. He felt like slapping that fucking son of a bitch.

Helaena was also having a good time, shedding her shyness piece by piece with each sip of wine. She chatted lively with Rhaena and Baela, who were already slightly tipsy themselves. Rhaenys sent an amused look to her husband, who tightened his grip on the wine jug and pulled it closer. The Sea Snake had to be vigilant to prevent his granddaughters and the young Targaryen from getting too drunk. Helaena, however, had more to celebrate than just her half-sister’s birthday.

Since Viserys and Alicent’s daughters reached reproductive age, the Hand of the King and the Queen Mother began looking for potential suitors for them. While there was no trouble finding suitors for Y/N, who, besides her wealth and possessions, had a strong character and good disposition, finding a husband for Helaena was problematic.

From birth, the princess showed signs of abnormal development. Though she grew as a girl should, her mind seemed not to keep up, still trapping her in a world of childish dreams. Helaena was quiet, read a lot, and spent all her time in the garden, not burdened with unnecessary duties.

The Hand decided that when the time came, that is, when Aegon was to take the throne from the ailing king, he would marry Helaena, and Y/N would marry Forrest Frey. The plans were made at a Small Council meeting, which neither Helaena nor Y/N attended. Probably neither would have known about the plans to marry them off if Y/N hadn’t accidentally overheard their conversation when one of the doors unguarded by sentries was ajar.

“I don’t agree!” she said firmly, pushing the heavy doors and entering.

“Y/N, you can’t be here-,” Alicent stood up, wanting to calm her daughter, but she sharply pointed her finger upwards. “And you can’t do this to Helaena! I don’t agree!”

Aegon, who was one of the people at the table, also didn’t support the Council’s idea. However, he was too drunk to make any objections. Only his sister’s intrusion somewhat sobered him up. If he had to choose, he could marry Y/N since she wanted to fight so hard for Helaena’s better fate. Frankly, he didn’t care either way.

The guards first wanted to remove the young princess, but she began presenting her arguments. The Council didn’t think an eighteen-year-old’s arguments could make any sense, but many underestimated Y/N’s negotiation skills. In the castle, by Aegon’s side, she could be more useful than in the Riverlands beside Forrest Frey.

The Council decided that Helaena would marry Frey when the time came, and Y/N would marry Aegon. The young princess didn’t want Helaena to spend her life in the castle, locked in chambers and bearing children. She wanted her to break free from King’s Landing and experience a life different from the one she had lived so far. Y/N knew that unlike her sister, she could handle an incestuous marriage and an unwanted husband, who Aegon was to become in the future. Helaena might have been driven to suicide.

But for now, these were just tomorrow's problems, or who knows, maybe even further. Helaena, in a sudden burst of joy, stood up and climbed onto a chair, much to Alicent’s horror.

“To my beloved sister Y/N,” she said, swaying. Rhaenys held the chair to prevent her from falling. “And to my sister Rhaenyra, who celebrates her birthday today. I love you!”

Alicent, Otto, Aemond, and Aegon looked at her indulgently, raising their goblets. All the other guests eagerly toasted, applauding the young princess’s words. Rhaenyra stood up from the table and hugged her sister; Y/N also rose to do the same.

“Helaena needs rest,” Alicent whispered, gripping her daughter’s shoulder before she stood up. “Escort her to bed.”

Y/N shook off her hand and got up, embracing her sisters. However, when she felt Helaena’s heavy body in her arms, she held her close around the waist.

As soon as the sisters left the dining hall, Jacaerys, sent by his mother, joined them. Young prince apologized to Y/N and with a single, confident motion, picked up Helaena, who laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, admitting that she would let such a handsome man whisk her away without hesitation.

Jacaerys only let go of Helaena when he placed her on the bed in her bedroom.

"Will you stay with her until morning?" he asked as Y/N began removing the rings from her sister's fingers.

"Helaena usually sleeps like a mouse under a haystack, but after wine, she sleeps like a rock," Y/N replied, smiling slightly at the sight of her sister's flushed face. "Wait outside, I'll change her for bed and join you."

The young prince nodded obediently and left the chamber. He stood outside the door, straight as a string, feeling like a guard. Shortly after, the princess joined him, quietly closing the door behind her.

"She'll sleep like a baby until morning," she assured, laughing softly.

"It's nice to see her with a smile on her face," Jacerys admitted as they slowly began walking down the corridor. He quietly offered his arm to Y/N, which she gladly accepted.

"I've noticed she smiles much more when she's here. I feel like the capital is suffocating her."

Jacaerys lowered his gaze. He had recently learned about the marriage plans for the young sisters.

"I heard she'll leave King's Landing sooner or later," he said, glancing at her. He didn't know how delicate ground he was entering.

The young princess sighed and nodded. She spent the whole way telling Jacaerys about everything that had happened in the past weeks. In the company of the boy, Y/N didn't feel like his aunt, as their relationship would suggest, but like a friend. After all, they were only a year apart in age. They had always had a good relationship and, unlike her hostile brothers, Y/N really liked Jacaerys. She cherished every opportunity she could spend with him. This was one of those moments.

The pair didn't return to the feast; instead, they went to one of the terraces. They sat on one of the benches, and Y/N involuntarily rested her head on the boy's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her close.

"You deserve more, Y/N," he said quietly. "Both you and Helaena deserve more."

"I know I'll manage, I'm strong," she said, watching the remnants of the day dance on the horizon. "But I'm so scared for Helaena. She deserves the whole world, not what's waiting for her in King's Landing."

The young princess wasn't sad; at this moment, she could even say she felt a lightness in her heart. Jacaerys' body warmed her pleasantly, and the cool, salty air chased away the heat caused by the wine from her cheeks.

"You're the bravest dragon I've ever known," he said with a smile, looking at her face. The girl smiled at his words. "I don't know stronger people than Targaryen women."

"Do you really think so?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes. She didn't know if his cheeks were flushed from the wine or the cold wind. Nevertheless, his dark eyes looked at her so gently that the young princess never wanted to look into any other eyes again.

Jacaerys smiled and nodded. He cautiously lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He touched her cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.

"I would take better care of you than they would, you know?" he said after a moment, his whisper lost in the whistle of the wind. Y/N heard his words clearly, just as she clearly heard the snort of disdain that came from somewhere to the side.

"I don't know which of you is more pathetic," Aegon said, looking at them with drunken eyes. He could barely stand, but his fists were clenched. Aemond remained silent, standing in the entrance and blocking it with his body. Unlike his brother, he didn't look drunk.

"What is your problem?" Y/N asked angrily, standing up. Unintentionally, she shielded Jacaerys with her body, who also rose from the bench.

"That you act like a complete whore," he spat through his teeth, causing Jacaerys to step around the girl to stand in her defense. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back when Aemond drew a dagger and stepped forward, defending his brother.

"Watch your words," Jacaerys said angrily. He didn't care that he was addressing the future king. In his eyes, Aegon wasn't worth anything, and he certainly didn't deserve to be Y/N's husband.

"Or what, bastard?" Aemond asked calmly, looking at him intently.

"We haven't done anything wrong," the young princess said sharply, though her voice trembled. She knew that her brothers were unlikely to hurt her, but she wasn't capable of protecting Jacaerys from both of them. She had only her hands, feet, and teeth at her disposal. "Get out of the way."

"Oh, really?" Aegon smiled. His drunken eyes were shiny from alcohol and dark-circled, his skin ashen. Even despite the fire of hatred burning in him, he didn't have a bit of a blush on his face. "I see a fucking dog clinging to my future wife."

"You wish she were your wife," Jacaerys said without thinking much about the words that left his mouth. Aegon lunged at him with his fists, to which the young Velaryon responded in kind. Aemond sheathed his dagger and grabbed Jacaerys by the shoulders, holding him and exposing him to Aegon's blows. In the commotion, the young princess managed to draw her brother's dagger and without hesitation, grabbed Aegon by the hair, pulling him back. With tears on her cheeks, she pressed the sword to his neck.

The four of them froze in place.

Aemond still held Jacaerys tightly, blood was trickling from his lip. Aegon's heart was pounding, not from fear but from adrenaline and, at that moment, also from excitement. His sister's small hand was firmly gripping his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back. Blood flowed from his broken nose, running down to his grinning lips.

"She's a dragon, see?" Aegon said, addressing Jacaerys. "You couldn't handle her, fool."

Y/N pushed her brother to the ground, releasing the dagger from her hands as well. She grabbed Jacaerys' hand and pulled him from Aemond's grasp, who would have lied if he said his sister's behavior didn't leave him speechless. In shock, he wasn't even able to oppose her.

"I'm so sorry," she began tearfully, pulling him away as far as possible from that place. "I should have killed them when I had the sword in my hand."

Jacaerys pulled her by the hand, causing her to turn around suddenly and fall into his arms. Without a word, he kissed her, feeling her salty tears mix with the blood from his split lip. Y/N returned the kiss but looked at him in shock. Jacaerys smiled warmly at her.

"Don't apologize to me," he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "You are a dragon, so be a dragon."

The pair didn't return to the feast. Instead, Y/N went with the young prince to his chambers. Jacaerys initially protested when she said she would help dress his wounds. Eventually, he agreed to her proposal, lying on the bed in just his trousers. The girl carefully cleaned his cuts, placing a cold compress on his abdomen. She sat beside him, looking at him tenderly.

"I'm so sorry, Jace," she whispered, squeezing his hand. The boy, however, seemed to be in a good mood.

"If every fight with them means I get to spend time with you, I'm ready to fight them every day."

The young princess smiled and shook her head at his words. She felt her heart swell when she was with him.

Their eager lips exchanged a few more kisses before Y/N quietly left his chamber, returning to her own. Helaena was still sleeping soundly, snoring softly. She lay on her side on her half of the bed, not even stirring when her sister began preparing for sleep. Dressed in a nightgown, she let her hair down and carefully combed it. She put the brush away and blew out the nearby candles, lying down on the bed.

As soon as she covered herself with the quilt, she felt someone sit on her, pressing her into the mattress, and a cold hand covered her mouth. The girl wanted to scream but felt a blade against her neck. The attacker leaned over her, his hair tickling her face. The young princess smelled alcohol.

"Every time you raise your hand against me," Aegon whispered, tightening his grip on the dagger's hilt, "I'll have one of your fingers cut off, understood?"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. For the first time in her life, Aegon truly frightened her. She felt her heart leap into her throat.

"And that fucking Velaryon dog," he moved his hand from her mouth to her hair, gripping it tightly. "I never want to see him near you again."

"Aegon-" she whispered with difficulty, clutching his wrist to push him away. She felt herself running out of breath, and the cold blade pressed deeper into her skin.

"Is that clear?" he growled, pressing her harder into the pillows.

"Yes," she said tearfully.

A moment later, she felt her brother's alcohol-tainted lips forcefully and brutally kissing hers. Aegon stood up shortly after and left the sisters' chamber, closing the door behind him. In the darkness, the young princess found her sister's body and hugged her from behind, trying to suppress her tears. She was terrified.

How much she wished she could hide in Jacaerys's arms at that moment.

[withleeknow]

moonstruck.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint; they're in love <3, mentions of menstruation, there's a bit about orpheus and eurydice so you're not familiar you might want to look it up beforehand idk, not as edited as i'd like. not a lot of warnings here tbh it's just pretty mild and mellow saur 🤷‍♀️ (also i don't exactly love this but i hope you'll still tolerate it anyway lol) word count: 4.7k playlist 🎧: moonstruck - enhypen // this is how you fall in love - jeremy zucker ft. chelsea cutler // pansy - taemin // tightrope - zayn

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho is the kind of love that you thought only existed in movies and fairytales. Make-belief, too good to be true, out of reach.

When he rests his head on your shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep like he’s been doing for the past hour or so, you give into the urge to stare at him in wonder. An angel on earth, if there ever was one.

His long eyelashes that you could only dream to have, the slope of his nose, his pink pouty lips, his impeccably sharp jawline, and even his fluffy hair that’s ticking your cheek as you look at him as if you don’t get to see him like this every day. But that kind of beauty is something that demands to be showcased in the world’s most exquisite museum and admired by anyone who comes across it.

Minho is beautiful in every sense of the word.

And you adore him. You do. You love him with every single beat of your pathetic little heart and then some.

Surely, you must’ve saved a nation in one of your past lives to deserve someone as ethereal as him.

Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss against his forehead. The touch makes him stir awake, eyelids fluttering open as he groggily looks around and stretches out his limbs, in the limited space that he has anyway. His sleepy voice asks you, “Are we there yet?”

“Not yet. I think they said we still have about forty minutes before we land. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Minho shakes his head, covering his mouth when a yawn forces its way out. He straightens his back to his full height sitting down, then slumps against the seat a little bit. He rests his cheek against the top of your head while his hands find one of your own to hold in his lap.

He rubs the skin of your fourth finger for a moment before he eventually stills, lightly snoring again while you look out the window, gazing at oddly shaped clouds and blues and the reflection of the sun on the waters below.

–

After you’ve checked into the hotel, freshened up and readied yourselves to explore the scenery, Minho takes you down to the beach. It’s a little chilly, spring hasn’t yet settled into summer. Even with a light jacket on, you still shiver every time the wind rushes by like it’s playing with the waters. But it’s nice – the sea breeze in your hair and the sunlight on your face, your lover by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you walk along the shore together. The blue of the sea almost blending in with the sky where they meet somewhere out there on the horizon. Seagulls flying overhead, families enjoying their relaxing vacation, children playing in the sand way down the shoreline where all you can make out are blurry silhouettes dancing about.

It’s paradise on earth. It’s an escape that you desperately needed. Exhilarated doesn’t even begin to describe how you felt when he told you that he’d booked a Jeju trip for your anniversary.

He’s always been the perfect partner. Always knows just the right thing to do for you whenever you need a pick-me-up. He may not seem like it, but Minho is beyond caring and considerate. He’s a man of few words but he certainly makes up for it with his actions.

“Hey,” he says, pointing somewhere ahead of you. “Remember what happened there?”

“Hmm?” Your eyes try to follow the direction of his finger, until they find a spot where two people are sitting, watching the water in front of them, content smiles passed between lips as they talk animatedly. “Didn’t you confess to me there?”

He smiles as the memory resurfaces in his mind. “Did you know I almost chickened out?”

You two started out as friends way before you got together.

Three years ago, just a few months after you’d both graduated from college, Minho asked you to go to Jeju island with him. You thought it was a little strange – though not that strange since you had been on trips with him before, but it was always in a group setting with all of your other friends. Never just the two of you.

Nonetheless, you agreed. You wanted to get out of the city anyway. You needed a change of scenery to clear your head and to recharge. Everything was starting to become too much for you - being 22 and in limbo. You felt like you kept falling behind no matter what you did. Everyone was moving forward and you were running in place no matter how hard you tried to get out of that slump.

Everyone around you was outgrowing you and your little life, and all you could do was pretend you were fine.

It was one of the lowest you’d ever felt, and you suppose that was why you said yes to Minho’s invitation. A vacation didn’t seem like it would help much, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

A few days away, with nothing but the sun and the sea to help you get out of your own head.

A tropical paradise and Minho. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were worse things you could think of.

That, and the fact that there had always been something between you and him. Not crazy sexual tension or anything, but just enough of a noticeable spark. An inkling of something that neither of you ever acted upon.

“Did you?” you ask. “Didn’t you plan the whole trip back then to confess?”

“What? No. Why would I willingly do that when you could’ve rejected me? Then I would’ve been stuck in a hotel with you and on the plane ride back.”

You squint at him. “Then why did you take me on that trip?”

Minho shrugs. “Friendship trip to cheer you up.”

Years with him and he still makes you feel as warm as he did the first time you kissed. You gaze at him with what must be the world’s most lovestruck look plastered on your face. You reach up to press your lips to the corner of his mouth, then watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“You did confess though,” you argue.

“Well, yeah, but that wasn’t planned,” he tells you. “You just... We were sitting right there,” he tips his chin toward the same spot again, “and you had my jacket on because you were cold. You were watching the sunset and you looked so pretty. I couldn’t help it. Almost chickened out though.”

You stop walking, and this makes him stop too. Minho glances at you with his head slightly tilted, wearing a puzzled expression.

“You never told me that,” you say.

“You never asked.”

Pouting, you tug him toward you until he’s close enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Minho is good, so incredibly good for you that sometimes you can’t possibly fathom how you even deserve him. He never meant to get anything out of it; he just saw that you were struggling and wanted to make it better for you.

Maybe you didn’t do a very good job at pretending, not if Minho could see right through you.

Before him, you had a fear of heights. Not the literal kind, but rather the kind of heights that often accompanies big leaps, big changes. A fear of falling, maybe that would be more accurate. Falling and failing and hitting rock bottom with no way to climb back up. A fear that you would always be stuck with this life forever, trapped in an existence you never asked for. A fear that no effort to escape your reality would be enough, and you’ll always be trailing ten steps behind even if you try twenty times as hard.

You pull him down so you could properly kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly like he was made for you, like he’s the only person you’re ever meant to kiss in this lifetime. You can taste his smile, minty and happy as he moves against your mouth, his arms sliding around your waist to hold you to his body by the small of your back.

“If I had known,” Minho pulls away slightly, mumbling against your lips, “telling you that would get me brownie points, I would’ve told you ages ago.”

You roll your eyes with affection.

“So all this time,“ he says, “you thought I asked you on that trip just to get into your pants?”

“You did get into my pants on that trip!”

“Let me remind you that I only wanted to do something nice for you. You were the one who almost jumped my bones right then and there after I said I liked you.”

You slap his chest as he throws his head back in a hearty laugh. Minho takes your hand in his once more as he drags you along, savoring the cool sea breeze and the golden daylight dancing on glittering waters before the sun bids you goodbye.

Minho is the kind of love that makes you want to curl up into a ball and ugly cry for an hour straight.

In a good way, of course. In the best way possible.

So that’s what you do, on a fine Tuesday afternoon, sitting on a couch surrounded by three cats as you wait for him to come home, perfectly sheltered from the harsh sun outside.

He returns eventually, toward the end of your crying session. When he sees the pile of tissues on the coffee table, soaked with your tears and snot, his heart nearly falls out of his ass.

Minho drops everything, rushing to you like you’re on the verge of spontaneous human combustion because clearly, this is a normal reaction to have when you come home to a girlfriend who’s been sobbing in the dark for god knows how long.

That, and the fact that said girlfriend doesn’t cry very often. Not by herself and certainly not in front of others.

Doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the occasional bouts of tears whenever shark week closes in, though.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Another rush of tears breaks as you look at him. You wipe your eyes and your nose with the tissue you’re currently holding, before throwing it on the table to join the pile you’ve accumulated.

You launch yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. The sudden force takes him aback, makes him gasp a little.

He freezes as you cling to him like a desperate koala, before his hands slowly land on your back, rubbing slowly, hesitantly, as though he’s afraid he’s hurting you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

“PMS,“ you hiccup your answer out, to which Minho only responds with a relieved Ah, his hands now moving more assuredly on your body.

“Anything hurt? Sore?”

“No. Just… missed you today. Love you a lot.”

There’s something saccharine in his gaze when he pulls back and regards you with his big doe eyes, softened and endeared, yet there’s still a twinkle of mischief peeking through the sugary glaze.

He moves to make himself comfortable next to you on the couch but still makes sure to keep a hand on you so you don’t grow impatient.

Once he’s effectively squished between you and the armrest of the sofa, he says, “You missed me so much that you started crying? You could’ve texted me, or called. I would’ve come home sooner, crybaby.”

“I didn’t cry because I missed you. I cried because I love you.”

He pretends to think for a moment. “I honestly can’t tell if I should be offended or not.”

You jab a finger at his ribs.

Sure, the mere thought of Minho brings tears to your eyes sometimes. It’s not really a secret anymore.

There’s something about him, just him, how wonderful he is and how all of the stars in the sky must have aligned themselves to make you and him happen. He’s the love of your entire life, there’s never been any doubt about it. Your other half, perfect for you.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you’re positive that you will never feel this way about anyone ever again. Your love for him runs so deep, so powerful that it overwhelms you at times, drowns you in nothing but affection for him and only him. A love that spreads like wildfire through your calm and sacred forest.

It’s cliché beyond words, that one day you would be having these thoughts about someone. You used to watch this kind of sentiment romanticized in movies, used to cringe and laugh at sappy lines in books and TV shows though there was always a part of you that longed for that kind of love.

You didn’t talk about it often, not even with the people closest to you. You always found it a little embarrassing to admit that you wanted love. To love and to be loved. There was something so utterly vulnerable in the act of yearning and isn’t it such a scary thing? To be vulnerable? You never saw the appeal in showing someone the deepest, darkest parts of you.

What if they leave? What if you bare yourself to someone and they deem you not worth staying for? How would you come back from that kind of rejection?

You suppose it always held you back - the fear of being open that goes hand in hand with the fear of being left behind. Maybe you have more fears than you’d like to admit.

Then came Minho.

No, that doesn’t sound right.

He didn’t come crashing into your life like a tidal wave and unraveled your every belief.

He was always there by your side, a calming presence that you could lean on when things got tough. A friend, a solid foundation. He’s the relief after every monsoon, the first day of sun after a long and harsh winter.

He saw you for who you were, all the messiest parts of you, and loved you anyway. In spite of your mess? Because of your mess.

He taught you that love isn’t always extravagant gestures and grand declarations that Shakespeare would applaud.

Love is acceptance. Love is staying with you on your gloomiest days and holding your hand through your dreariest moments. Love is lingering glances by the doorway before he goes to work because you’re half asleep but you’re still trying to reach for him even in your dreams.

It’s sharing joys and burdens alike. Reminders to eat and gentle wake-up calls. A photo of you in his wallet, a silly picture of him as your phone’s wallpaper. Giggling with him after he tells a joke not because of the punchline itself, but because his manic chortle is even funnier.

Love is Minho cradling your face in one hand and holding onto your shaking fingers with the other, his steady gaze holding yours, and his voice whispering gently in the darkest of nights, “Your storm is my storm.”

At the end of the day, love is pretty simple. Love is him.

“Do you ever think about Orpheus and Eurydice?”

Minho laughs, the sound vibrating where you lay your head, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing the skin of your waist over your shirt. “No, I don’t think about Orpheus and Eurydice.”

You figured as much.

Your fingers trace invisible patterns on his chest as you hum your acknowledgment. Then you ask, “If it was me, if you were Orpheus, would you look back?”

His hands pause their ministrations, a little taken aback by the question you suppose. Your brain tends to pingpong between the most random things sometimes.

“You know,“ he says with an even voice, though the corner of his mouth still curls upward in amusement. “Other people just ask the worm thing.”

“The worm thing is boring. And we both know you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm.”

“You wouldn’t love me if I was a worm either.”

“That’s true. I don’t like worms,” you agree, chuckling while your boyfriend scoffs. “Answer the question, would you look back?”

There’s no right answer because you’re not expecting a correct response. It’s a hypothesis that can never be tested because you aren’t a nymph and Minho isn’t a bard with the ability to sway all life with his music. It’s a silly thought but it’s one that you’re curious about nonetheless, just to hear what he would say. Why not?

You’ve read many interpretations of the tragedy. In some, Orpheus hears Eurydice stumble and turns to catch her fall. In others, he can’t hear her at all. The story will forever be among your favorites, one of the things that never fails to turn you inside out no matter how many times you mull over it.

Minho is quiet for a moment. You think he’s about to shoot back with a witty retort that he always has up his sleeves, probably something about how he would find a loophole and trick his way out of the deal, or that he would personally fistfight Hades to get you out of the underworld. This wouldn’t surprise you at all.

Instead, he says, “Yes, I would look back.”

But regardless of how you choose to view the myth, the ending does not change. Orpheus always turns around.

He turns around because he loves her.

Minho’s fingers slip under your shirt to brush your bare skin, angling his head sideways so he could kiss your forehead. 

Maybe he’s just saying it for the sake of being romantic, for the sake of saying what seems to be the right thing. It’s an answer that you can never give substance to, but you believe him with all your heart.

You believe him. You do.

“If it’s you, I would look back.”

Minho is the kind of love that eclipses the sun and dims the light of the moon. The kind of love that drowns out all the noise and makes everything a little more bearable. Not just the most horrible things – your fears and struggles alike – but even the smallest, most mundane things.

If there’s one thing that you absolutely hate, it’s the smell of nail polish. You hate the way it lingers in the air even after the bottle has been capped, hate how the smell of toluene stains your fingertips even after washing your hands several times with scented soap.

Though, the only time you try to tolerate it is when Minho convinces you to stay in and pamper each other. Pizzas that he picks up for dinner and tiramisu ice cream for dessert. Face masks and fancy candles that you save for special occasions. SoonDoongDori napping on various surfaces in your living room, an old vinyl playing from the record player he got you for your first birthday you shared together after you started dating.

You each take turns doing the other’s nails on the carpeted floor. It’s become somewhat of a tradition that you indulge in every month, where you would spend cozy Friday evenings indoors just because neither of you can be assed to indulge in a “proper“ date night. Being hermits together sounds infinitely more appealing to you than any other alternative.

“I’m not done,” you say, snatching Minho’s hand back after he pulls it away to admire your work. You blow on his fingers to make sure that the layer of black polish you applied earlier is dry, then you’re reaching for a bottle of beige polish sitting amongst the ones scattered on the floor. You take a tiny brush from the nail kit - one that’s rarely ever touched because neither of you knows how to do nail art - and dip it into the sand-colored polish.

“What are you doing?“ he asks, watching as you trace some squiggly lines on his middle finger, the lighter color settling nicely on top of the black even if he has no idea what you’re trying to draw. “What is that?”

“Soonie,” you say simply. “When you flip people off, you can show them Soonie.”

You don’t need to look at him to know that his attention is fixed on you even though he doesn’t give you a response. You feel his gaze on the side of your face, soft and warm and never leaving for even a second. He doesn’t say anything while you work though, maybe he doesn’t want to mess up your concentration while you’re so engrossed in what you’re doing. He only chuckles at your answer, then nothing afterward.

You don’t mind the lack of conversation. It helps you focus better on what you’re doing because you’re no artist by any means. You can’t draw to save your life, let alone master something as intricate as nail art, but this is therapeutic. It’s perfect to help you unwind after a long week - doodling your beloved cat on your boyfriend’s nails while Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls sets the ambience. You’ll get the ice cream when you’re done with your impromptu project, along with a little headache from inhaling too much of the polish scent perhaps, but isn’t that a small price to pay?

You take your sweet time with the teeny tiny details, like Soonie’s delicate whiskers and the darker strips of fur on his face. He still turns out a little wonky, a little lopsided here and there but it’s not like you expected it to turn out like a Picasso.

The real Soonie seems to sense a disturbance in the force when he wakes up from his nap and saunters toward you curiously. You pick him up and sit him in your lap so he doesn’t come too close to the fresh polish on Minho’s nails. “Look,” you say with a proud smile, pointing toward the small cat doodle. “That’s you.”

He studies it for a moment, focused on your portrayal of him but then he’s quick to decide that he’s not interested anymore before wiggling away from your lap to go join Doongie on the couch. You chuckle lightly, watching him as he walks off, wondering if this is what it will feel like when your future children enter their teenage years.

When you turn back to Minho, he’s still staring at you, a dazed look in his eyes as he blinks slowly, his hand resting limply on his thigh.

“What?” you ask. “Do you not like–”

“Marry me.”

The rest of your question dies in your throat, wilting away like cherry blossoms when summer nears. He doesn’t break eye contact, still that dreamy gaze when he peers at you. Nothing has ever changed in the way that he looks at you.

For a moment, you’re too stunned to speak. You think anyone would be when their boyfriend drops a proposal out of nowhere while you’re doing each other’s nails in your comfiest sweatpants.

Everything that you’ve been afraid of comes bubbling to the surface, every doubt, every fear, even every fleeting insecurity. They manifest as a ringing in your ears, a buzzing in your head that makes it hard to think about anything at all.

But then he shuffles closer, closer and closer until his warm breath fans your cheek, his nose nudging your cheekbone gently. It’s similar to what Doongie does sometimes when you’re lounging in bed and he just wants some love.

When Minho takes your hand and laces your fingers together in his lap, everything stills. The rumbling comes to a halt, the distant thunder fading slowly into the background of your mind palace until it’s reduced to mere white noise. “Marry me,“ he says again, and his voice is so tender that you ache. Tender and sweet and so full of wonderful adoration. If you ever have to describe what love sounds like, you would say it’s him and his voice, right here and right in this exact moment.

“A little dramatic to propose just because I drew your cat.”

He chuckles, presses a kiss to your cheek before he ducks down to deliver another kiss on the side of your neck. Then he pulls back, just enough to get a clear view of you and your now glassy eyes.

“Bottom drawer in our bedroom,” he tells you. You can’t lie; you have half a mind to leave him here and go check. “I bought the ring two months ago, but I knew I wanted to marry you two years before that. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to do it but I realized the perfect moment doesn’t exist, because every minute I spend with you is perfect. I love you so much. It’s not because you drew me my cat, by the way. I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.

“I love your weird brain and your blanket-hogging ass. I love that you’re crazy enough to listen to a song literally over a thousand times without getting bored. I even love you when you set ten alarms in the morning and still manage to sleep through all of them. I know you hate your smile but it’s my favorite smile in the world. Did you know my favorite color is the color of your eyes? The best part of my day is when I get to come home to you and the kids waiting for me. I want all of you forever. I promise I’ll love you twice as much on days that you don’t love yourself. When we’re old and gray and we look like raisins, I’ll let you go first so you won’t have to spend a single day alone. I’ll–” He stops when you let out a teary giggle, no bite in his voice at all when he says, “Please don’t laugh at me during my big romantic speech.” 

It only makes you laugh harder, though it’s just as emotional. If you focus on the other part of his sentence, you’ll only crumble into a million pieces right here.  “How very romantic of you to include the visual of us as raisins in your speech.”

Minho rolls his eyes – fondly, of course. When he pretends to squirm away from you, you tug him back by the collar of his shirt to plant an apologetic kiss on his lips which he eagerly accepts.

“Please continue,” you say, smiling against his mouth. “Tell me all the ways that you’ll love me.”

“You ruined it. I retract my proposal,” he grumbles, but his arms betray his words when they tighten around your frame, holding you close to him to steal another kiss. Then another, and another, until your faces are wet with tears and you realize that you’re both crying.

“I’m sorry,” you say through sniffles and tears. “Please keep going.”

“Make it up to me first.”

“How?”

“Marry me,” he repeats a final time. “I’ll give you a better speech on our wedding day.”

Years and years from now, when you’re old and gray and look like raisins – as he so poetically put it – you’ll remember this moment down to every miniscule detail. How the cats’ peace is disturbed by your tearful giggles and the strange look they give you before wandering out of the room, in favor of somewhere without two crying idiots. How the record starts skipping but neither of you can be bothered to do anything about the obnoxious sound. How the material of his shirt feels when you bunch the fabric in your hands because you need to kiss him, need him to be as close as humanly possible.

You’ll remember the sob that he hiccups when you tell him through choked up whispers, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” and how his lips feel when they tremble against your skin. You’ll remember the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, because he’s always been your salvation for as long as you’ve known him. You’ll remember what happens after, later that night when he finally slips the ring onto your finger. The words he whispers into the crook of your neck, “You mean the world to me,” and the emotions in his voice when you both realize this is the start of the rest of forever.

You’ll remember everything, all of it, every clumsy touch and every graceless kiss. Ugly crying on the floor and yet, it’s more perfect than anything you can ever dream of.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 13.07.2024]

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

This Halloween | Yandere SatoSugu

“Hi, gorgeous! Surprised to see me here?”

“Don’t cry, (Y/n). We were never going to kill you.”

The reveal that the small town’s biggest menace was your friends Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. To think that the golden boys of Jujutsu High who were dating two of the victims were hanging off one another in their bloodied costumes. Smiles wider than they’d ever been with their supposed partners, the reality sinking made the bile rise in your throat. 

Thinking about your meditation you close your eyes. The smell of partygoers rotting all over the small beach house fills your nose. The sound of the back screen door bumping against the frame as the beach breeze goes in and out with the tide surging outside. The taste of pennies filled your mouth as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. The twitch of your fingers awkwardly hovered in front of your chest as they flexed in and out. On top of your breathing didn’t calm you as much as it usually did.

“(Y/n) did you hear what I said?”

The voice of Suguru somehow made it past the warbled sound of absolute confusion that clouded your brain. The leather glove lightly held your left hand as he slowly came closer to you’re shivering state. Those brown eyes looking so deeply into your own, it felt wrong to look away. 

“All you have to do is say we left early.”

You opened your mouth to ask but the growing sound of sirens stopped you. Gojo was the first to let out a curse, giggling about running away. He shook his raven-haired partner who hushed him with an amused smile, turning back to you. 

“You can do that for me can’t you Dove?”

The duo left out the back. That screen door screeched as they ran through it; returning to bang against the frame angrily. Its aggressive banging triggered an all-new set of shivers to wrack your body, causing you to fall to the floor. Closing your eyes you try to level yourself again but the sound of your own heartbeat is deafening and the eyes of your best friend pleading with you.

It will haunt you forever.

The sight of Detective Choso brought an uncomfortable pit into your stomach. The man you’d met years ago in another city–your city, with his hair down and his eyes had bags like a masked vigilante. 

“He’s out.”

The news didn’t scare you. Not as it should have. Many may find it strange to know you dreamt about serial killers on death row. But it warned you. Prepared you for the day you’d need to run as far as possible from anything you knew. On the anniversary of that day no less.

“What’s the plan?”

The detective pursed his lip and his eyes wandered. His feet, running the flat of his oxfords on the carpet of the entrance to your apartment. The silent scratch of the wool under his shoe irritated you almost as much as his request.

“We wanted to lure him out. Will you—”

He didn’t need to finish before the door was slammed in his face, pushing him back into the apartment hallway. Choso groaned to himself, the situation's futility ebbing at his already short patience. He calmly knocked on the door again.

A muffled, “Go away!”

He sighed, lightly banging his head on the rusted number of the apartment. With his ear so close to the door he could hear the receding footsteps and the mumbled curses directed at him. He looked down the hall making eye contact with the local department’s plant taking out the trash. He didn’t feel completely terrible leaving when there was a guard there, making a note to try again in 24 hours. 

“I’ll be back.”

It was meant to be assuring but Choso worried it came off threatening as heard a defiant thump on the opposite side of the door. Resisting the urge to sigh again Choso turned tail, making his way to the elevator. Pulling out his phone he scrolled through his contacts, landing on the name: Idiot surrounded by blue hearts. 

Holding the phone at his waist he timed the ringing until he heard said idiot singing out a ‘hello.’ Only then did he bring the phone to his ear and respond. 

“The eggs secured and it’s staying in the next. How’s the snake?”

_____________________________________________________________

Gojo Satoru finished his lecture with a grand gesture as though he had finished giving a presentation. When in fact, he’d pressed play on the school’s TV the second his students got in their seats. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d thought to make himself look better for the detective standing just outside the classroom. Even though they both knew it didn’t matter.

“I appreciate you waiting until the kids were outta the classroom. Wouldn’t want to explain to the parents why the police were in their school.”

The white-haired teacher spoke so cheerfully, that his familiarity with the detective might have seemed positive. The detective wasted no time calling their partners in; the stout one stood at the door while the taller one pulled at the blinds of the classroom. With the classroom darkened and the school slowly emptying the head detective decided to speak. Making a dramatic move of pulling a voice recorder out of his pocket he held it up as he asked his question.

“Where were you the night of October 7th?”

Gojo sat on his desk, kicking his feet as he mockingly thought hard. He pretended to put his fingers to his temple as though that would provide answers. The detective associates sneered at the childish display. 

“Hm on the night of October let me see–”

The man trailed off as he reached over his desk, pulling a calendar out of a drawer. Flipping through it he animatedly pointed his index at the circled date on the calendar. 

Smiling up at the detective Gojo exclaimed, “The anniversary of those horrible murders? Well, I was grieving over the victims by grading my kiddies homework.”

The detective snatched the calendar from him, letting his eyes glaze over the marked paper. Confirming the statement, he tossed the calendar back to him. 

“Can anyone confirm this statement?”

Gojo let out a playful whine in annoyance as he dramatically flung back on his desk. The detective and their bodyguards all flinched at the large movement, hands hovering over the fire-arms tucked under their coats and at their belts.. 

“It’s always evidence with you guys, geez. I have it on the calendar, I never left my house you can ask my neighbors about that.”

“Your neighbors all live three kilometers away from you, That’s not an option.”

“So critical. If I personally broke out some poor inmate on death row do you really think I would have let you just walk into my space like this?”

The question had the detective hovering over their weapon again. Gauging the posture of the white-haired man who was only smirking in their direction with an unsetting nonchalance. The pause that ensued allowed the detectives to reluctantly let their hands drift from their weapons as the sound of multiple chattering students hurriedly approached the empty classroom. The door previously closed swung open to reveal Gojo’s most loyal student–a pink-haired teen leading the charge.

“Teacher! Did you see my post?”

With that smug persisting smirk on his face, Gojo turns his head feigning surprise. 

“Unfortunately no. I was too busy talking with these old friends of mine. What’s up?”

“Dude! The police are totally raiding your place!”

The teen turned his phone around to reveal a short video of police and armored vehicles surrounding the luxurious Gojo estate. Plenty of onlookers also recorded the unnatural phenomenon for the typically small town. Granted the amount of paparazzi that constantly come in and out of the town to film anything they can on the Gojo head wasn’t all that rare, but the authorities looking so closely was. And like everything in this town, it was all anyone would talk about for months. 

“Well, Detective Mahito am I under arrest?”

The long-haired detective sent a look to his partners and the curious teens absorbing the situation. Coming to a decision he openly hovered his hand over his weapon. 

“You are not under arrest but for your safety, you need to come with us.”

Of course, there was a video preceding this of the beloved teacher being escorted into an unmarked vehicle and the students behind the camera being shooed away as it drove off. With all the interested eyes on this case, it almost felt impossible that anything would slip under the radar of millions of curious eyes.

_____________________________________________________________

(Y/n) remembered the way the couple went public with one another. After the tragedy that ensued at the annual Hallow’s Eve party, it was of minor shock that the two golden boys of the high school found solace in one another. Everyone chalked it up to the bonding of trauma after both lost their girlfriends.

“I just found that no one could relate like he can.” 

You heard the reasoning in passing, always around the surrounding crowds curious about the latest scoop on the survivors of the Hallow’s Eve tragedy. No doubt some of them will have turned around to tell the outlets interested in the story as well while others would theorize about the identity of the masked killer.

“Maybe it was them!”

“Yeah, what a defense! ‘I don’t talk anymore after what I’ve seen!’ As if!”

The nauseating feeling would eventually go away but the pressure was suffocating then. Haunting your mind with their echoed speculations and the image of your dead friends. What’s worse was the killers so happily parading their sorrowed expressions along the halls. Accepting the gift baskets and surface-level condolences without an ounce of suspicion. The feeling of your hair raising along your skin when one of them mocked their sympathy towards you.

“Don’t be so hard on them, they’ve seen things no one should have to see.”

The constant threat of tears was a reoccurring pain, as you replayed the events of that party. It was never to be soothed by the couple who’d spend their free time pestering you. Often leaving quickly thereafter to repeat their sick game. 

“Just keep quiet, Dove. We were here the whole time after all.”

“Yup, and to prove it we’ll take a picture. Don’t tell anyone okay?”

You couldn’t bare listening to them any longer. 

______________________________________________________________

Conveniently the press that did have your new contact information weren’t as insistent as before. Quietly asking for a comment on the criminal notoriously associated with Hallow’s Eve murders. After all the rumored victim of the killer was recently detained, surely as the witness that convicted the killer to death row you’d have something to say. You kept quiet. Deleting emails and hanging up phone calls from unidentified numbers, solely focused on getting to your plane on time. 

“I’m so sorry but all commercial planes have been grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Like glass breaking at the perfectly angled rock, you started to crack. 

“What. Do. You. Mean?”

This poor employee didn’t deserve your wrath but she also wasn’t betting on this plane to save her life. She’d nervously stutter and stumble over her words as she denied every out or once of compensation to make this any better. 

“There may be some private planes but those are in incredibly high demand–”

“I’ll go! I don’t care how much just tell me where!”

She seemed reluctant to say but she still told you. Maybe it was because she felt bad, seeing someone so desperate to get away or maybe it was because you were inches from her face. Either way, you were on the tarmac within the hour, along with a few others desperate enough to pay privately. Only to be crestfallen when you arrived at the staircase to enter the plane; letting the other exasperated passengers pass by your still form. 

“May I help you with your bags?”

An attendant, with a shining smile and neatly pressed uniform with the plane’s company proudly pressed right above his heart. Greeting you with nothing but an offer to help; you cursed the involuntary reaction to vomit.

“Are all…the private planes available…from this private airline?”

You tried to keep the tremor in your voice to a minimum as you nervously wrung your hands around the handles of your bag. 

The attendant—none the wiser—smiled and gestured to the other planes lining up the tarmac with rows of people.

“Yes, they are. Gojo Airlines is offering a discount during these trying times–”

He kept talking but you weren’t listening. Turning around to leave, ignoring the airport security and the attendants who were preparing to let you onto the plane. It meant nothing to you for the beating of your heart and your panicked breathing is all you can hear. When you finally waved down a taxi, you quickly dialed a familiar number.

“He knows.”

______________________________________________________________

Detective Jogo looked nervously at the contact of his partner miles away. Since the week that their missing subject committed the grand massacre, he was infamous for. Because of the nature of the parties involved, he was strictly instructed to not call unless absolutely necessary considering they suspected their phones were compromised. 

“You eat yet?”

The question came with a warm bagel and a cup of coffee. Held over his seated form by the burly officer Hanami; coming from the breakroom on the other side of the station. For the first two weeks, it was just following the heir around. But with the inmate scheduled for death row at large and another anniversary coming up, it was decided they’d move the heir into one of their holding cells. Of course, it was lavished with furniture and decorations all chosen by the illustrious Gojo Satoru. He did whine when they demanded to inspect and bug his phone and laptop but the station was taking no chances when it came to this specific case. 

The rumors were enough too.

“Have you checked on him within the last few hours?”

Hanami tilted her head looking at the one-way glass of the blue-eyed witness pacing casually in the fortified room. From the glimpses that Jogo got from his chair across the room, their witness was unusually chipper. The days they spent guarding him throughout the day were incredibly boring; temporarily leaving his job as a teacher to gallivant around a hotel of his choosing didn’t make it better. Throughout those weeks Gojo had subjected the team to an aggravating amount of chatter—none of it helpful or even worth repeating. Detective Mahito was plenty great at keeping up but Jogo and Hanami opted for alternating earplugs. Even with the earplugs in he could pick out the strong hints of annoyance bubbling underneath his wide smile and piercing gaze. 

The change unnerved him. Especially with the rumors circulating around this specific witness. 

“Didn’t want to besides I’m watching from the camera.”

Blunt and unforgiving Jogo wouldn’t expect anything more from the officer. It didn’t put him at ease. 

“Where’s Mahito? Still investigating that place?”

If it was possible Hanami’s apathetic expression tightened, her brows knitting at the thought. 

“Yes. Last he called all the evidence had been scrubbed and all we can hope now is that they forgot something we could use.”

Jogo sucked his teeth in shared annoyance. The rumor he was dreading was more like an undisclosed fact. The true masterminds behind the Halloween Massacre were both Gojo Satoru and the death row inmate Suguru Geto. The files say the Gojo family lawyer fought hard for the heir; effectively blaming it all on Suguru Geto. With prints, hair, witness testimony, and photographic evidence all on the heir they were able to plead for coercion by malicious manipulation. Getting their heir off and painting his partner in crime to be a greater threat than he. The whole fiasco of the jewel of the Gojo clan being involved made the whole case a living nightmare, that their superior Choso Kamo rose to fame with. By finally encouraging the only witness with viable evidence to testify Suguru Geto was sentenced to death row. And through expert lawyers mysteriously hired, he remained waiting for years. 

Choso, before he left to guard the witness, believed it wasn’t just an escape attempt but a chance for the killers to tie everything up. Destroy the evidence, stop the search for the death row inmate, exact revenge on all who participated in the case, and reunite with their loved ones by the end of Halloween. 

Of course, it was their best detective leaving to protect the witness who was in the most danger. Leaving his underlings—Mahito and Jogo to keep them on the pulse of the case and their eyes on the man believed to get off scot-free. 

If it weren’t for him knowing Choso cared so much for this specific witness; he would have thought he was leaving them the rough side of this mission. He knew the hardened detective could be a compassionate man–a hard thing to retain in this line of work. 

Jogo huffed taking a sip of his coffee,” I hope he’s having a better time than we.”

Hanami made a grunt of agreement before returning to the hall to stare at the monitors she had been for the past couple of days. He would have offered to switch if he didn’t think he thought this pit in his stomach could be resolved. 

The 40-year-old detective stood from his seat. Careful to nurse the leg he’d fractured from two cases ago. He took his uneaten bagel, noting it retained some of its heat. He headed to the holding cell. Sending a look to the guard at his station, a buzzer rang and the door unlocked. With the final swipe of his keycard, he let himself into the semi-messy room. The culprit was sitting on his bed, a smile still on his smug little face.

“Hungry?”

Those cerulean eyes weren’t on him the second he came in, instead looking at the clock left graciously in the upper corner of the room. Nor did they flicker when Jogo asked his question. The disrespect made the Detective’s eyebrows twitch as he kept his hand holding the bagel. 

“I’m not going to eat your leftovers, old man.” 

“Not good enough for you!? Not up to your snobby standards,” was what Jogo wanted to say but he didn’t need to get kicked off this case for suspected bias. It didn’t help that the man still wasn’t looking at him, laughing to himself as though Jogo told the funniest joke. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” 

Jogo was trying. He really was.

“Nope, but I’ll eat later today.”

Jogo loosened up,” Have any idea what you want?”

The Gojo heir’s smile didn’t compare to the smirk he had on before. His smile practically reached his ears and those haunting eyes staring right through Jogo, “All of your livers.” 

“What?!”

The suspect wasn’t speaking anymore and Jogo’s phone was ringing. 

Jogo had a decision to make. Answer the call or make sure he just heard what he did. 

“You should answer that. He might never call again.”

Despite his better judgment, Jogo pulls out his phone, seeing the name of his fellow detective and the goofy photo they took on his phone. Another look at the white-haired man and he answered the call. Immediately his ears were assaulted with the sounds of wood crackling; the unnatural sound made his mind piece together what was happening.

“I-it’s a trap!” the tearful voice of Mahito rings the loudest. Jogo almost doesn’t want to speak as if that would make what he heard go away. “G-get out–”

The sound of something large falling and the frantic screaming from either the detective or some other poor soul being abruptly cut off. Punctuated by the phone call ending. 

Jogo couldn’t take it anymore throwing his phone aside to reel his fist back to punch the chuckling man in the face. Prepared to fight against the guards that would be arriving any second he aimed with urgency. He was certain he’d have time to get in one. One good hit to the face of the man responsible for the chance that his partner might be dead. 

“Did you really think I’d just let that happen? That’s cute.”

Jogo’s fist was easily captured by Gojo’s hand, a careless gesture strong enough to keep the shaking fist static and far from its intended target. Unnerved by that restraint the detective launched his other fist only for it to receive the same treatment. Pushing with all his might Jogo–in the split seconds of any fight—found himself at an impasse. Figuring if both his fists were being thwarted he’d go to the next best thing–his legs. Cursing the ache he’d have later he aimed to kick the heir in the gut. 

“But not that cute.”

The quip was a warning barely processed as Gojo caught the man off-guard, releasing his fists to latch onto the outstretched leg. Gripping the ankle of the old man swung the body of the detective into the one-way glass. It crackled under his weight bursting with shards of glass as the stout man rolled past the curious guard’s post. 

Jogo didn’t feel like he could get up but he did watching the blue-eyed man let himself out of the holding cell, a stolen I.D. being twirled in his hands. He didn’t need the guard to let him out, outright kicking the metal door until it flew off its hinges.  Of course, the guards in the room moved with a taser and baton in hand. 

“You guys are so dramatic! How about you go out begging then maybe I won’t make you suffer.”

The guards didn’t bother responding to the one with the baton going first. Swinging from above any normal man could barely manage to dodge but Gojo was by no means normal. He easily sidestepped the baton using the downward stroke of the officer to grab at his neck. At speeds, Jogo couldn’t comprehend the officer’s head was facing the opposite direction. Even worse they weren’t dead their eyes darting around as they tried to scream—making a gargled plea instead. The one with the taser barely had time to fire, missing the dodging assailant who easily grabbed the coils beaming with electricity to pull the gun from the guard's shaking hands. Defeated with a hand slicing toward their exposed neck also making the man gurgle as he fell to the floor.

“Now what was it we were talking about?” 

The question was directed to Jogo and the pain paralyzed him to the floor. Helplessly watching as Gojo slowly walked closer. The old man’s eyes darted nervously around searching for anything to use. His thoughts raged with an all-manner of possibilities running through his mind there was one tool bound to stop the incredibly durable heir. His gun. Jogo took great care to not let this realization be made. Planning to only reveal this when he needed which would be soon, judging by the way Gojo was cracking his knuckles. 

“About how this was all planned by you?”

Jogo was stalling but it didn’t seem Gojo was listening. The heir tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he looked annoyed at the aching detective. 

“Are you done because otherwise, I’m just going to end–”

In a large flash of blue, the heir stood back just barely dodging the hurling form of Hanami. Using her natural height against him she aimed a violent punch into the ground, cracking the concrete the heir was standing over just a moment before sidestepping. Jogo felt his heart lift, who greater to fight alongside than Hanami—the human tank with punches as strong as steel. Surely now they had a chance.

Jogo pulled out his gun aiming at the dodging heir. Waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger and finally end the menace that got to run free. 

“This really was fun but I’m tired of this place.” The declaration sounded petulant like a child,” and I’m tired of you.”

Almost in annunciation a pale hand shot through the chest of Officer Hanami–the human tank stopping her assault to look down at the hand pulling out of her. Before Gojo’s bloodied hand could leave a spray of her blood dousing her face and eyes. Fear-filled eyes watched his partner struggle as a waterfall of viscous carnage poured out of her baffled mouth. 

Through the tears growing in his eyes, Jogo fired his gun. 

Over a year spent in the police academy and being a rookie in the small town. To a supervisor to a junior detective who humbled himself to learn the young genius detective. More than certain his aim was true, he collapsed into himself. The weight of both his partners, his friends dead when just hours ago they were as lively as ever. 

Thankful that the beast responsible was gone.

“Glad you came I was just about ready to clean up myself.”

The monster he thought he’d defeated was standing above him casually calling out to another down the hall. Whoever this was holding a disembodied arm and was casually walking in the halls surrounded by bloody remains of the investigative team. 

As frightening as it was to revel in the new threat having gotten past security and was brutal enough to be carrying the limbs of his coworkers. But it didn’t take away from the horror of realizing his gun never did go off. Instead, his gun was squished with the bloodied hands of Gojo Satrou, who sent one last disgusted look in his direction before dropping the disfigured gun in his lap. 

“I told you, I had it under control.”

“Whatever you say ‘kuna.”

“Don’t call me that. Now go on get to your ‘date.’”

If Gojo had taken the talons he called fingers and torn out Jogo’s heart it would have been better than recognizing the pink-haired, tattooed man, covered in blood. To think he’d have the privilege to die near the detective-turned-mercenary Ryomen Sukuna. Face ashen and succumbing to his fate, he wistfully watches the white-haired man skip over the carnage of the force. Without so much of a glance, the Gojo Satoru had taken everything from him in a matter of minutes. 

The only thing he did have left was doomed to be gone soon.

“You ready to fight to your death?”

An idol asking a question worthy of someone who wasn’t likely paralyzed by merely being thrown through a window and failing to shoot the man responsible for the destruction of an effort to maintain justice no matter who the suspect is. There was only one thing he could say as Sukuna awaited his answer. 

“Yes. More than ready.”

______________________________________________________________

Today was the day you’d broken your silence all those years ago. Once again traveling with the detective to the far reaches of a rural town far away within the safe confines of a car. It didn’t soothe you in the slightest. From the airport incident, the unnerving shiftiness within your stomach hadn’t settled not like it did when Suguru was finally shipped off to prison and not like when Gojo was sent to a foreign exchange school. It wasn’t over.

“How are you doing?”

The question was worthless but you hadn’t said anything since Choso dignified the plan. A lot was unspoken between you but talking was still necessary.

“Like throwing up. How’s your brother?”

The immediate question was not just a deflection, it was the easiest way to distract the detective. Choso was a proud older brother who at any topic that reminded him of his little brother ensued in long rambles about said brother. It’s a perfect soundtrack to drown your thoughts and avoid playing therapist with the detective you’re effectively running away with.

“Since you asked—”

Seeing the tired straight-faced detective finally begin to smile as he proceeded to rant. It’s a nice change to the gloom you both permeate. You figured you’d help stave it off for a while with some light chatter. 

“---and his little friends all look up to him like the natural-born leader he is!”

“He’s in high school now right?”

“He is. He’s actually….” Choso trails off as his smile falls,” he’s actually going to Jujutsu High.”

The name of the familiar school renews the tense atmosphere and with terrifying speed, the synapses of your brain begin to fire off. Suddenly you can guess why Choso insisted the plant stay behind or how he refused the undercover police escort. Or why instead of awkwardly attempting to cheer you up he keeps his tired eyes on the road ahead. 

“So the safe house was a lie.”

Choso visibly grimaced, “Not entirely. I wouldn’t give you to them if I wasn’t sure you’d be safe.”

“Them!?”

He dared to look at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“I know what they’re after and they’re not going to hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes, “You trusted the serial killers who promised they weren’t going to hurt me?! Gee, what a smart detective you are, let’s blindly trust the guys who have a death wish for me!”

Choso had the nerve to look offended at that. You didn’t bother holding back your glare, anxious to hear the reasoning behind this betrayal. His hands tightening against the wheel told you there was some turmoil—as if that would resolve the bubbling fury that had you debating about taking the wheel and driving you both off the road.

“My partners went back to the place, searching for evidence.” He spared a look towards you as if confirming you’d shrink in on yourself at the mention of that Halloween Night. “It was rigged to explode after they found some evidence. My other partners that were meant to guard him….”

His tired eyes were blinking in a futile effort to hold back tears. Thankfully he had the decent to pull over before clasping his hands over his tired face. With only the light sniveling filling the car, you were forced to remember that night. The fire. The blood. It was all too much. You reached for the handle of the door, pulling at it to get into the open fields Choso pulled in. Only to find the door would not give.

“(Y/n), their funerals will be closed caskets and the cause of death will be chalked to some accident that explains the state of the bodies.”

He was trying to look at you, to get you to look at him. The droplets clouding your vision and the frantic breathing you were trying to regulate weren’t helping. Recognizing your struggling he grasped your hands, holding them the way he did when you first fought to retell the tale that imprisoned one of the most infamous killers to exist. Rubbing his rough thumbs over your knuckles in comforting circles encouraging you to slowly inhale and exhale.

“They did that to the ones they wanted dead for years. They told me, the last thing they wanted to do was harm a hair on your head.”

The tears were running as Choso pulled you into a hug, listening to you blubber about it being a lie.

“I think if they wanted you dead they would have done so by now.”

His assessment was crude but the truth. Deep down underneath the fear and noxious feeling of encountering those two again, there was still disbelief. A part of you that always denied that the friends you’d seen reveal themselves to you would ever think about reducing you to one of their many victims. Perhaps for your sanity, you’ll have to trust in the friends you know. The friends that confided in such a secret all that time ago.

“So your brother…anyone else?”

He knew what you meant and as he lit a cigarette; he answered with a puff. 

“The whole town. Practically wiped out the entire workforce with the stunt they pulled.”

He inhaled with a wince, taking in another painful huff. He hated smoking.

“If they did do anything the whole town would be completely at their mercy…”

Reaching into his coat pocket, you pulled out a cigarette for yourself swiping his lighter to enjoy your cancer stick. Both of you fill the inside of the car with your despair, smoking your anxieties into something smaller. Hopefully weaker. 

“Well if it’s for your brother and the whole town then I guess it’s a worthy sacrifice.”

Both of you joylessly laughed, taking long pained drags of the sticks—all the while licking at the tears that escaped your blinking eyes. A couple more puffs of smoke were had before Choso pulled back onto the road.

For whatever reason things were lighter as if that would take away to the possibly dangerous future you’d be subjected to.

“When you can, you should take Itadori to see the city. That’ll really change his life.”

“Any places you recommend?”

“Do you want a list?”

It was nice to fill the space with something positive—a rare activity you two partook in after the court case. It was nice to do it one last time. 

The drive wasn’t much longer, eventually pulling up to a small neatly painted house with no car in sight, if it weren’t for Choso’s intel you’d have been none the wiser. 

As he put the car in park, he looked at you. As sincerely as he’s always done despite visible tiredness in his face. His arm wrapped around yours with a hesitant hand. 

“If you really don’t want to do this you don’t have to. You can punch me and we can say you ran off into those cornfields we passed by earlier.”

Mustering a smile as you leaned your head against his chest, “I’ll be fine Choso. Say ‘hi’ to Yuji for me.”

He helped you get your bags, knocking in a specific tune on the door. The door opened and an old woman revealed herself, welcoming you with a warm smile inviting you both inside. You looked to Choso in confusion as you followed closely behind leading you to a parlour filled with hideously dated and flowery decor. She insisted you sit, promising to fix some lemonade for you both. 

“Oh, young man can I have your help with this? I’d get it myself if it weren’t so high.”

Choso hurriedly followed after her, sending a look for you to sit and relax. 

This felt weird throwing off your expectations for your meeting with the murderous duo. Managing the burden of a fate to come you allowed your hands and eyes to wander. Letting your eyes glaze over with thoughts of how old the intricate wooden end stand is. Playing with the frayed edges of the quilt decoratively draped over the couch. It kept you distracted long enough, finally breaking out when you saw the long and pale hands coming to wrap around your chest. In a perfect world, it would have been Choso being oddly affectionate but these fingers were longer than his, sculpted to the very knuckle to become a living weapon. Accompanied by an inhale against the top of your head the owner of these hands pulled you further against the back of the couch; further pulling you into the warm soft and sturdy chest of a man you’d feared. A curtain of silky black hair much longer than you remembered dropped just past your shoulders, daring you to look up at its owner who refused you the luxury of space as the shadow-colored eyes stared deeply into yours.

“Hello, Dove. You look radiant as ever.”

Velvety as the day he testified and was sentenced was Suguru Geto. Older but just as handsome as the day you met; exuding the air of gentleness that made anyone feel at ease. That is until he didn’t need to. Those hands long and spindly trailed from your chest and on to your neck tracing your collarbone through your clothes. Finally resting on the middle of your neck, index fingers toying with the organ underneath your skin.

“Hum for me Dove.”

It was just like old times, unwilling to speak and yet plagued by the demand into those dark eyes to give something. So you hummed broken and uneven, in your ears it was hardly the symphony he claimed it was. But it didn’t really matter what you thought now.

“That’s my Dove.”

He annunciated proudly moving his hands to hold your face up, keeping you in place as he softly explored your mouth. Nibbles were soft but urgent as though there was a timer for this reacquaintance unlocking the memories of this exact kiss. 

Under the stairwell after a big game, the first after the reveal. Satoru was insistent you come, unable to goad a word out of you, he had you hum. A promise to come to their game and cheer them on. As per usual they won, despite suffering from so many late players the team relied on their surviving all-star players. Unsurprisingly Satoru was majorly credited with their win, allowing Suguru to pick you out from the cheering crowd leading you under the stairwell.

“Aren’t you proud of me, Dove? Show me how proud of me you are.”

The kiss was just like this, still soft but needy. Hands methodically wandering to allow for an opening; some easier access to melt his body into yours in the minutes he had before the others came. It was just like this.

“Aw gorgeous, you missed us?”

Playful as always and hands eagerly running under the hem of your shirt to rub thumbs along the soft expanse of your skin. Pecks in between the hands creeping higher all the while Sugure tightens his grip on your jaw a warning not to forget him. Not ever again.

When Suguru does pull away it’s to suck at your neck, holding you by your shoulders as you’re hands wiggle with uncertainty. Even subconsciously you hesitate to have your hands reciprocate while the two assaulted you with kisses that were getting rougher by the minute. Satoru ignored Suguru when he climbed up higher to meet your lips; and worked to intertwine his fingers with yours. With another attempt, he roughly pulled at Suguru’s lips with his teeth demanding they share a deep kiss of their own before returning to you.

“Oh Gorgeous we’ve been waiting to do this since forever.”

Two more final pecks from each of them, allowed you to breathe leaving you limp and pliable for the especially touchy Gojo Satoru who slotted you into his lap as he settled onto the older couch. Suguru sat closely his arm reaching over the top of the couch to let his hand rub at your neck once again. 

“Missed you at the airport.”

The pit in your stomach returned at the loaded judgment and came with a pinch into your side. Under Suguru’s scrutinizing gaze and the feeling of Satoru’s eyes from behind you, had you hoping to defend yourself.

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

You said it with attempted laughter, begging for the laughter of the killers you’ve feared for years–all to confirm that still wasn’t the plan. 

Suguru in his forever-contained demeanor sent you a smile with half-lidded eyes. The most unclear answer to the anxiety that hadn’t rested even with the butterflies of kissing these two again. The vibration of a laugh from behind wasn’t an answer either and neither were the muscular arms circling you. 

Suguru released your neck, and brought his hand to hold up his head,” So you and the detective. Did you get together, after I left?”

The growl behind his smile reminded you of why it took so much courage to speak out. Something you bore witness to since the couple decided to reveal themselves to you. Not only for the fear of ending up like their victims but for the entirely personal punishment only Suguru in all his infinite fury could conjure.

“No! I’ve been single this whole time.”

That got you a squeal from Satoru who lightly squeezed you tightly into him giving light pecks to your neck. Not stopping anytime soon you turned your attention back to Suguru, who still didn’t look pleased.

“Hm, I’m not convinced.”

The nonchalant claim made you feel like crying again. You remember this conversation when it came to an old friend. Even when you pleaded, silently albeit he’d scoff and smile at you while he remained ‘unconvinced’. Kissing your forehead before leaving to claim another victim for the masked killer. 

“He brought you to me …he-he convinced me to talk.”

That wasn’t true. It was you. Through a month of self-care and therapy, you were able to muster the ability to speak again. Choso was great support but it was you who did it. You who gained the courage to move away and restart your life away from the memories of your serial killer boyfriends. Speaking of, you whimper at the sting of pain along your neck.  

Straining your gaze to look at the man whose admiring the mark on your neck. Despite the loving caressing of his hand along your neck, the glare of Satoru Gojo was just as frightening as the killer sitting across from you.

“I don’t know I think that’s all the more reason!” 

You couldn’t restrain yourself from silently pleading with Suguru looking deeper into the house where Choso disappeared with the older woman. Suguru sent a hand through his unrestrained hair as he sighed.

“I’m not pleased with you (Y/n). Telling on us like you did someone’s got to pay.”

You could hear Gojo smirk behind you.

“So what do you say, babe round 3 of our favorite Halloween Night?”

Suguru released his locks as he mockingly stuck his nose to the sky,“I’ll think about it.”

Suddenly the rickety old house shook from a plane overhead; thinking nothing of it you expectantly looked at Suguru who seemed to be debating. Only for him to abruptly stand and make his way to the door. Satoru hopped up with you in tandem refusing to let you walk on your own without him clinging onto you.

They both made their way to the back porch where the very plane you’d refused to ride a day ago was releasing its stairs. With the steps fully extended Satoru tugged you along as Suguru began to ascend. With the question of Choso’s life still hanging in the balance you dug your feet into the ground pointing at the house which Satoru barely acknowledged until you’ve turned yourself in his direction.

“Wait! My bags! Choso has my bags!”

That had Suguru coming down the steps faster than you could turn; feeling that familiar grip on your jaw as he forced your gaze on him.

“You don’t get to choose if we bring that with you. I didn’t get to choose what I got to bring when you sent me to that cell. ”

You held your gaze as you stood your ground, “Not him. Be mad at me! Not him.”

For a moment those black depths flashed with something violent; a glimpse of what hundreds had seen in their last moments. 

It wasn’t for you but how could you know that?

Suguru sighed lessening his grip on your jaw, using both his hands to hold your face. Running his thumbs along the creases of your face as if he had to remember the texture of your skin against his own. Since his reunion with Gojo, he fought tears, pulling you into a hug. One you returned on instinct, somehow even with the blood splattered on his face with the mask of a serial killer hanging on his head he was still your friend. As Gojo closed in from behind you you reminded that you felt the same for him; more than certain that you’d be rendered the same helpless witness to the deaths of so many friends.  It would always end this way. 

with them at the end of the blade, with the power they’d always have. 

Satoru settled a hand on your waist and his other on Suguru’s face, his smile as warm and welcoming as the day you first met. 

“Come on you two. Let’s spend this Halloween together. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Finally entering the plane a part of you felt like you lost. That you succumbed to the imbalanced rulers of the system. But the largest part of you knew since you’d gotten involved with these two, you’d been given the footprint of a giant and it really would be better for everyone if you let them win especially this once. 

At least with certainty, you can say this Halloween no one else is dying because of you.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley never felt like this before in his life. As soon as he spent a few minutes in your presence, he needed to keep coming back for more. Your touch and your voice were already making this homecoming something he was hoping to repeat, and he decided to keep pressing his luck.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley getting handsy

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley promised he would pick you up in an hour. That gave you essentially no time to get yourself ready to go out. At least you didn't have those typical first date jitters, because you and he had already taken the time to slowly get to know each other over the past few months. All of the emails from him that you'd archived into their own folder in your inbox felt precious now that he was home. Now that he surprised you at work. Knowing what he felt like and seeing the way he moved in person seemed to be the only missing pieces, and now everything fit perfectly in your mind when it came to Bradley Bradshaw. 

While you weren't nervous about getting to know someone new, you were a little antsy about trying to make yourself look as nice as you could in an hour. After you'd worked all day. For your first date with a man you already couldn't get enough of. He reminded you that he wanted to take you to the beach, as if you could forget the splendid details he'd divulged over the phone a month ago.

He told you he was going to wear jeans, nothing fancy, but when you looked in your closet, everything seemed tragically terrible. You could practically feel time ticking away as you yanked a simple sundress from its hanger and pulled it on over your cute underwear set. Not that he was going to see that tonight, but it made you feel good regardless. It also made your skin feel flushed as you thought about the photo you'd sent him where you'd gone topless under your bedding, and you squeaked when you heard knocking on your door. 

When you pulled it open, he was there, like a dream. Earlier in your classroom, when he interacted with your students, it felt like you had imagined the whole thing. But nothing felt as real as the warmth in his voice when he softly said, "Hey, Gorgeous," as he filled your doorway with his broad shoulders.

"Hi, Handsome," you replied, even as he leaned in closer until your lips were met with a kiss as sweet as the ones he treated you to earlier. He seemed to be taking your desire to be kissed as soon as he saw you to heart. Either that or he just couldn't help himself, and you were more than okay with either scenario. 

Your fingers ghosted along the buttons of the loud tropical print shirt he was wearing. The fabric was soft as he deepened the kiss enough to let you feel his rough mustache against your skin before pulling away. All of the teasing kisses from a few hours ago made you want to pull him inside toward your couch, but he was already reaching for your hand.

He looked a little tired, and once again you got butterflies knowing he wanted to spend his first evening home from a very long deployment with you. As he smiled and wrapped his big hand around yours, he asked, "You ready for me to show you why deleting that dating app was the best decision you'll make all year?"

Your lips parted in soft surprise at his confidence and his little smirk. Granted, so far, he had no reason to behave otherwise. You let him guide you outside, and you locked your door as you said, "I thought getting my students to send mail to a deployed Naval aviator was my best decision?"

He hummed softly. "Seems as though you can do no wrong."

It was like floating on a cloud, having his attention and gaze fixed on you. How in the world this man wasn't already locked down was mystifying. As his rough thumb trailed back and forth across your knuckles, the butterflies started up again in a big way. It was actually happening. The first date that you'd been daydreaming about on repeat was here. He was following through with it, and now you were expected to act normal.

When he unlocked the door and helped you climb up into his insanely cool truck, he said, "It looks like you can't stop smiling, which is great, because it's a beautiful smile."

You laughed softly and covered your eyes before groaning softly. "I'm just still kind of in shock." You peeked at him from between your fingers. "When I woke up this morning, I was convinced something terrible had happened to you... or that you ghosted me."

Bradley looked truly concerned as he coaxed your hands away from your face and said, "Baby, you thought I ghosted you?"

You gave him a little shrug and said, "The thought crossed my mind. I know you said sometimes they shut off communication from the aircraft carrier when-"

He silenced you with his lips on yours, cupping your cheek with his big hand before breaking away to say, "I've been thinking about you since I unfolded the first letter you sent. And I've been thinking about today since you gave me your personal email address. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm definitely not going to ghost you, Gorgeous." Just as you felt embarrassed for having admitted that much to him, he kissed you again and said, "I want to get you Thai food and take you to the beach. It only took me thirty-seven minutes to get here in traffic, and it should be even shorter now. Since we're going to be doing this drive with frequency, I want to learn the best times for it."

You made a soft sound as his thumb continued to stroke your cheek, and you nodded as you said, "Let's do it."

-----------------------------

Bradley laced his fingers with yours as he drove down along the coast back to Coronado. The time it took to get to your place was really no big deal to him, but he didn't want it to seem insurmountable to you. Traffic in San Diego could be a nightmare at times, especially in the evening, and he didn't want you to think he wasn't more than willing to do this. Especially after you thought he may have ghosted you. And especially since he was planning on asking you to be his girlfriend. 

You and your students got him through his deployment in a way nothing else ever quite had before. Your letters and emails were informative, funny and thoughtful, and you had this addictively subtle way of always letting him know he was on your mind. After months with Vanessa, all he got was a bad attitude, a partner who clearly wasn't invested, and an email about a water bottle. 

You were singing along to a song he happened to love when he chuckled to himself as he changed lanes. "What's so funny?" you asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. "My singing voice isn't that bad."

"Your singing voice isn't even slightly bad," he replied easily, glancing at your face in profile as you smiled. "I was just thinking about my ex-girlfriend."

"Oh," you said as your smile vanished, and your hold on his hand loosened. 

"Shit," he grunted. "Not like that," he promised, tugging on you gently while trying to focus on the road. "You and I had exchanged more emails halfway through my deployment than Vanessa and I did in seven months. And I'm hoping you'll keep emailing with me on occasion, even though we can text and talk on the phone right now, too. I associate my inbox with you now."

"Vanessa?" you asked, avoiding the rest of his statement. "Isn't that the name of Jayden's dog?"

Bradley nodded. "It sure is," he replied with a laugh. "One of the reasons I always liked his notes the best."

You were looking out your window now as the pretty coastline started to give way to a view of North Island across the bay. "I'll keep emailing you. How could I not? Texts and phone calls would be a bonus."

"I told you, you're going to get sick of me soon, Gorgeous. That's how many of my texts and phone calls you're about to be on the receiving end of." Bradley kissed your fingers as he turned to cross the bridge that led to Coronado, and he murmured, "Start thinking about what you want to eat for dinner. We're almost there."

He would erase all doubts about him from your mind. Your hand already felt like it belonged in his as you and he walked into the takeout restaurant while you listed off some of your Thai favorites. The two of you seemed to translate well from interacting through screens to physically being together, and the fact that he already wanted to put a label on this was a bit surprising to him. But there was still a lot he wanted to ask you about and tell you first, which was proving difficult when you looked up at him with bright eyes as a beautiful smile. He practically blurted out the world girlfriend as you told him you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat.

"What are you getting?" you asked. "I'm torn between Pad Thai, Yellow Curry and Tom Yum Goong."

"Let's get all three," he replied before kissing you. 

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed as you asked, "All three? I can only finish one."

"Yeah, we can share them," he whispered, kissing you softly again. "My appetite is huge." When the person who was working at the counter had to clear their throat to keep Bradley from pulling you closer to his body like he had earlier in your classroom, he begrudgingly ordered not three, but four entrees while you laughed. 

"You weren't kidding," you mused as he paid for dinner.

"Listen," he told you as he put his credit card away. "There are three things I'm never going to joke about. Food is the first one. My mom always made me clean my plate, and I never outgrew that. If I'm willing to eat two servings of dinner from an aircraft carrier mess hall, then I'm probably going to eat at least that much if it's food that actually tastes good. And second, if I say there's a spider and that I need you to come quick, there is absolutely a spider that I need you to take care of for me." You laughed and bit your lip as he said, "And third, I'm never going to joke about how attracted I am to everything about you."

Bradley tried his best not to cause a scene in the small restaurant, but when you ran your fingers along the scars on his face and up into his hair, his hands found their way to your hips, and your body was snug against his. He didn't say another word, and you didn't either. Neither of you moved any closer for a kiss. You just brushed your fingers gently through his hair, occasionally tugging a little bit, and he thought he could lose his mind this way. With you smiling softly at him, silently and unknowingly showing him that your touch was uniquely something he'd been craving for so long.

"I'll take care of the spiders for you. Don't worry," you told him as you grinned.

"Baby, that's like dirty talk," he replied, his words making him think of that one photo you sent to him of you in bed. You dipped your head, trying to hide from him as you laughed, and he leaned in to kiss your jaw just as his name was called. "You ready for dinner?" he mumbled, knowing he was about five minutes away from his stomach growling loudly even though standing here with you was one of the nicest feelings in his recent memory.

"Let's get you fed," you told him, patting his firm stomach and accidentally snagging one of his belt loops with your finger. He had to bite the inside of his cheek against the growing need he felt for you as you reached out to grab the bag of food, and he followed you back out to his Bronco like a lost puppy.

----------------------------

After some debate about where you wanted to sit since the wind was starting to pick up, you chose a blanket on the sand over the back of his Bronco. You honestly weren't sure Bradley could even fit back there comfortably with you. He was so tall and broad, and his legs were so long, you'd practically have to be on top of him so he'd have room. Your mind wandered to the idea of him spilling off of his couch while you snuggled with him, and you could feel the warmth rising in your face as he helped you down onto the sandy asphalt of the parking lot.

With your hand in his, Bradley led you around to the back door where he pulled out a picnic blanket and a cooler. The wind picked up and you shivered a bit, wondering if he would let you curl up against his warm chest and his tropical shirt. 

"I brought this just in case," he told you, turning to reach back inside and grab a well worn, gray sweatshirt that said TOP GUN across the front. He held it up, and you nodded, and then Bradley pulled it over your head for you, his fingers skimming down your sides as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.

"Thanks," you murmured as the oversized garment kind of swallowed you up. It was so soft over your sundress, you couldn't imagine ever wanting to take it off. And the look Bradley was giving you as you stood before him in it warmed you up as much as the shirt itself.

"I like the way that looks," he said, voice a little raspy as the wind pushed at his wavy hair.

"Bradley."

He shook his head, brown eyes fixed on you. "And I like the way that sounds."

You didn't need to eat anything. You could be sustained on making out in the backseat. You thought about telling him as much when he groaned softly, handed you the beach blanket and picked up everything else. "If we don't get settled, we'll miss the sunset, and the food will be cold."

He pressed one hot and heavy kiss to your lips before nudging the door shut with his hip, and you scampered after his long-legged gait to catch up with him. When he asked you to pick a spot for the blanket, you spread it out near some tall dune grass, away from some of the other couples who seemed to have been lured out by the promise of a pretty sunset. And just as you predicted, Bradley sprawled himself out and took up most of the space, leaving you sitting right at his side.

You helped him open up the containers of food and the disposable utensils, and then you watched him reach into the cooler and hold up a bottle of Prosecco and a bottle of a local craft beer. You pointed to the Prosecco, and he opened it for you as you said, "I know you told me you don't have much family, but you mentioned your mom? And how she always made you clean your plate?" You couldn't help but be curious, especially since you'd already told him a bit about your own family through email.

"Yeah," he replied evenly as you took a sip of Prosecco right from the bottle when he didn't hand you a cup. It was sweet and cold, but you almost choked on it when he said, "She died years ago. So did my old man. He was in the Navy, too."

"Bradley," you gasped, sloshing some of the wine onto your fingers as you tried not to drop the bottle. "I'm so sorry." He just shrugged and waved you off, but you ended up with your arms around his neck and the cold bottle pressed to his back as you whispered, "Is that why you didn't really have anyone writing to you other than me and my class?"

His big hand found your lower back through the sweatshirt. "Baby, the only other person who ever writes to me is my best friend, and even that is pretty sporadic."

You pulled away a little bit to meet his eyes as you asked, "What about Vanessa? The human, not the dog."

Bradley laughed and said, "The dog would make a better pen pal than the human. Probably be nicer to me, too."

You were completely taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He kissed your cheek before getting you settled at his side again, and you watched him scoop some noodles onto his fork. "Means she's not like you. And I'm going to try my best to prove that I'm not like your ex boyfriend who didn't like it when you talked about your job. Shouldn't be hard since I already think your kids are so cool, and I probably read at about a fourth grade level."

"Bradley," you balked as you laughed that he remembered what you told him about your ex, but he was already holding the food out to you.

"Try this and tell me what you think." You took the fork from his hand, tasted the dinner and moaned in appreciation. "It's pretty great, right?"

"Oh my goodness," you told him, digging the fork into the container for more. "It's even better than the place by my school."

You tried the curry next as the sun just about hit the horizon, and Bradley casually said, "We can do this all the time. Or I can surprise you with dinner after work."

"It's not a surprise if you tell me that," you told him before taking another sip of the wine.

"You don't like surprises," he said with a smile, and you realized for the second time tonight that he probably remembered everything you ever told him. The butterflies were back in full force as you and he chatted while you shared the meal. It wasn't like a first date at all. It was like some highly romantic reunion where he kissed you with a bit more frequency as the food containers ended up empty and the sky turned purple.

He was so warm as you snuggled up against his chest with your head on his shoulder. As the first few stars appeared in the clear sky, his big hand came to rest on your thigh, his fingers dipping inside the hem of your dress as the breeze made you cuddle even closer to him. "Was your last mission dangerous?" you asked, remembering how apprehensive he looked and sounded over the FaceTime call.

When he didn't respond right away, you thought perhaps he didn't hear you, but he squeezed your thigh and cleared his throat. "All of them are, Gorgeous."

Your heart clenched. You had him here with you after months of wishing and dreaming. You didn't want to seem pushy by asking, but you couldn't help yourself. "I never thought about what it would be like to... be with someone who deploys for work. Not until we started talking. But now I think about it a lot." His soft grunt next to your ear had you quickly asking, "Is that what it would be like? Always worrying if you're okay? Always wondering if you miss me as much as I miss you?"

He took your breath away as he kissed you, parting your lips with his and tasting your tongue. His lips were sweet from the wine, and his nose bumped yours as his big hand slid around to the back of your thigh. All you could do was hold onto him as he treated you to kiss after toe-curling kiss. You shamelessly moaned his name when he finally let you take a breath, but then he was right back on you. Your fingernails scraped softly along his faded scars before digging into his hair, and he broke the kiss and held you to him.

"You would never have to worry about the last bit. I would make sure of that. But yeah, Baby, the rest of it would kind of suck."

The only thing you could say was, "Bradley," as his eyes searched your face in the darkening evening light.

"I would have been miserable," he whispered. "If you never sent that first package, I would have had nothing to look forward to each day and nothing I was excited to come back to San Diego for." His voice was impossibly deep and alluring as he said, "I thought about that a lot. What if you never sent it? Or what if someone else got it instead of me? What if I didn't somehow manage to earn your attention? I don't like thinking about that. And I don't like the idea of you worrying about me even though, at the same time, it feels really fucking good knowing that you would."

You were melting. You were going to turn into a puddle for this man. This lonely man who had an ex who hadn't been nice to him and never emailed him enough. This man who cleared his calendar today to bring you flowers and visit your kids as soon as he got off of the aircraft carrier. You wanted to say so much as you pushed gently on his shoulders, and Bradley slowly leaned back until he was laying flat with you on top of him.

"Gorgeous," he crooned in the moonlight with the sound of the ocean behind you and his big hands on your thighs. 

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and whispered, "You just got back today, and you gave all of your time to me."

His cheek was warm and rough with some stubble as your lips found his scars. You kissed them just like you told him you wanted to as he said, "It was just me being selfish. I wanted to be around you so badly. I'm already dying for more. Please go out with me again tomorrow?"

It took you all of a split second to agree. And maybe you were being selfish too, but you weren't prepared for the way your heart was racing in time with the butterflies. And how warm his big hands were as they inched up your legs while you tasted his tongue. And how much you knew you were going to want him to stay when it was time to say goodnight.

---------------------------

Your hands were all over his face and shoulders and in his hair, and Bradley was nothing short of delighted by this. Your lips drifted from his mouth down to his chin, and he had to try very hard to focus as they grazed his Adam's apple. He had your apartment keys in his hand, with which he was also squeezing your hip though his sweatshirt. It felt serendipitous that he was the one who got your letters, especially since he went from halfway in love with you to most of the way there after one day in your presence.

"Baby, you need to go inside," he warned, but something in his tone of voice just had you clinging tighter to him. "I need you to go inside."

You broke free from where your lips ended up on the side of his neck, and you whined. "I know, Bradley."

"God," he rasped, releasing you completely and taking a step back. "Say it one more time."

You unlocked your door, turned to look at him over your shoulder, and your kiss-swollen lips curled into one of those simply gorgeous smiles that earned you your nickname. "Bradley."

It sounded so fucking good. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered. "Lock the door behind you."

You did as you were told with one more little smile just for him, and then he was left standing there alone, trying to catch his breath while he got his phone out and worked on taking date number two from daydream to reality.

-------------------------------

Why is he like this? They are going to get even more handsy on their second date, and I can't handle it. And he can't even go more than a day without seeing her? He needs to be locked away. Thanks for reading! And thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[pupkashi]

gojo can’t wait to marry you, but he will for the sake of one folder in his phone

a/n: i want to marry gojo, sue me!

wordcount: 703

masterlist

satoru would take your engagement ring everywhere he goes with you. he’d have it stuffed in his pants pockets or jacket and you never once suspect a thing.

he’d have so many pictures of you turned around and him holding the ring right behind you, clueless as to what the man you loved was holding a mere foot away from you.

there’s pictures of the two of you at home, making dinner, cuddling in bed, cleaning, teaching the students, at the beach, on a walk, on dates, literally anywhere anytime, and all of them have the beautiful ring in the velvet box, wide open and facing the camera as you stare in the opposite direction, oblivious.

he’d always try his luck, but he was cocky enough to somehow always get away with it, only once almost getting caught when you turned around faster than he thought you would, but you were too amazed with the fireworks to notice him throwing the small box into the bushes next to him (he then had to act like he lost his phone to go and pick the box up again).

there’s a chilly breeze that picks up over the two of you as you scoot closer together under the reds and pinks of the sunset, the grass around the two of you rustling with the wind, clouds floating peacefully.

you’re getting up and grabbing a blanket from the picnic basket, back facing satoru. “thank god we brought these blankets! I didn’t expect it to get so chilly so quickly,” you sighed, fingers melting into the plush fabric of the blanket.

satoru is quick the pull the box out of his sweater pocket, snapping the picture and ready to put it away before you turned around.

time seemed to freeze in the seconds that he took to look at you, radiating and glowing in the suns golden rays, the world painting you in all its colors. maybe it was the sounds of the birds singing or the pair of butterflies that flew past you. or maybe it was the overwhelming sense of love and home that he felt in the moment.

satoru didn’t move, he stayed on one knee, the box wide open and facing you as you turned around.

“i love you, sweetheart,” he smiles, the look on your face knocks the wind out of him as his cheeks begin to hurt a bit from how wide he’s smiling, “i knew after we’d been dating for six months that you were the person i want to spend my life with, that you were all I’d ever wanted and all I’d ever need.”

there’s tears welling in your eyes as he continues to talk, heartfelt words and vulnerability as his hands shake slightly. your mouth is still covered by your hands, mouth slightly agape from shock as your heart beats out of your chest.

maybe it was the swans swimming in the lake besides you, maybe it was the two butterflies from before landing on his shoulder before fluttering off again. or maybe it was the way the sun painted him golden, his blue eyes staring at you, snowy bangs falling perfectly on his forehead, your body warm with love as you nod your head when he finally asks the question.

“will you marry me?” his voice is a lot less confident than usual, a relieved laugh leaving him when you engulf him in a hug, your face burying itself in his neck as before pulling away and crashing your lips onto his.

“of course I’ll marry you angel boy,” you laugh, sniffling a bit as he wipes the tears from your face, taking your hand in his and slipping the ring on.

you can’t help but admire the way it looked on your finger, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. soon enough you’re staring back into satoru’s blue eyes, giggling as you cup his cheeks and bring his lips to yours, laughing when he grabs you by the waist and spins your around.

he shows you the folder of pictures later that night, and you can’t even be mad at him. not when you realize he had bought the ring the day after your six months.

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[vase-of-lilies]

❀  Pairing: Medusa!Wanda Maximoff x Blind!Reader (F)

❀ Warnings: Reader is “sacrificed” and “saved by Wanda”, so much fluff, really quick acceptance, sexual content, Wandas snakes have their own personalities and love to mess with the reader when she is just snuggling with Wanda or when she is just chilling (lol), fingering, oral (r receiving), Wanda just flicking our bean while out on the beach, the snakes calm reader down IDK OK, 

❀Disclaimer The pictures only represent aesthetic and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. Credit to who made the pictures in the banner as well.

❀ Authors Note: I have started reading the story called “Stone Blind” and it is a re-telling of the story of Medusa and telling the “true” story of how she became the “monster” she turned into. I feel like that even though Medusa was assaulted, she deserves love and I think that having a blind reader would help her feel like she was loved based off of her personality, not of fear. This story is a little lighter than the others, but it still is dark with hints of kidnapping and captivity. I will also be keeping Stheno and Euryale, Medusa’s original sisters, just for the organization of plot purposes! There are quotes in here that are loosely based on “Stone Blind”! All credit to Natalie Haynes for the style of Medusa I use!!

It’s a cooler summer day in Greece, rain feeding the dry crops with much-needed food. The drought that Zeus brought to the mainland was devastating, causing crops, veggies, and fruits to cripple before they were ripe enough to pick. This was a punishment for the greediness the people were showing, thriving a little too much to the god's liking.  

It wasn’t uncommon for the god to be selfish like this. He would often flood the fields with too much water, making them die equally fast. Your village was one of the many affected by this cruel situation. You later learn that Zeus had a bad day and wanted to take it out on someone other than his poor wife in the clouds. 

These games he played were difficult to navigate, as the world through your eyes was sightless. Just like tinnitus in the ear, your eyes seemed to feel the same way; clouded and blurred figures with every movement of your eyes. You were born this way, and no amount of begging could have changed what you encounter daily. 

However, with this blindness, your other senses are heightened. Your hearing was better than most, and you did everything possible to protect it as it was your most powerful sense. Every chirp of a cricket, creek of a door, a voice outside your home. You could hear it all. 

It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. “She won’t even know we are gone, she can’t see us. Out of sight, out of mind.” This was the last thing you heard from your parents before they abandoned you. Your heart broke when you heard those words, never feeling such betrayal from someone you loved before. It was that moment that caused you to shut off your emotions to other people. 

At the age you are now, it was difficult to find really anyone who would accept your blindness, and love who you were on the inside. What never occurred to you was the fact that you needed someone who felt the same. Someone who felt an insecurity that needed to be validated by someone similar. 

This was exactly how Wanda felt. She was the youngest of the Gorgon Sisters, born a mortal human but was punished by a goddess out of jealousy and spite. 

The goddess Athena was spoiled by her father, getting everything and anything she wanted with a snap of her fingers. When she was betrayed, she didn’t punish Poseidon, who in fact was the person who caused this problem in the first place. She punished the poor girl who was hurt by Poseidon, all because the situation unfolded in Athena's own temple. 

Why did she choose Wanda to punish? Because she was mortal and did not have to suffer through centuries of war and turmoil. The night she went to Wanda's cave, her sisters were out hunting; gathering for their mortal sister so she could eat. Athena took this opportunity of Wanda's solitude to torture her, ripping every piece of hair from her head, forcing red, writhing snakes to take their place. 

She was in pain for days, her scalp burning with every movement the snakes made. Her nights were spent screaming and sobbing into the darkness of her cave, her sisters trying everything they could to soothe her. They were only met with silence until the day she finally spoke up about who hurt her. Her sisters were angry with the sea god for even looking at their loved one. They had their own way of punishing Poseidon, but of course, the god couldn't care less. He was powerful and could do whatever he wanted, just like his niece Athena. 

Some could say that Athena took pity on Wanda for what her uncle did. And to keep the other gods away from her, the powerful goddess turned the girl's beautiful locks of hair into a head of writhing snakes. This was for protection from her uncle and any of the other greedy and overpowered gods that rule the world. 

No matter the tale that one has heard, what is true is that Wanda is now considered a monster just like her sisters. But who determined what a monster was? Was a monster someone merely different from you? Or was it men that made everything monsters? Men seem to be afraid of powerful women, or women with sharp teeth, wings, and tusks. 

Monsters are misunderstood. 

The two sisters are some of the most gentle creatures to adorn the earth's surface. Sure, they hunt animals and look a little scary, but they keep a flock of sheep, learn how to cook bread, and take care of their mortal baby sister. 

The first time they met Wanda, Stheno’s talon gently brushed along her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen when she arrived on the sand. Now that Wanda is a grown woman, her immortal sisters adapted to her needs. She spent most of her time on the beach, but now spends her time in the depths of her cave, too scared to come out of fear that Poseidon will hurt her again. 

Stheno and Euryale vowed to never let anyone hurt their beloved sister ever again. They hoped that one day she would find a lover who would be willing to love her for who she was. Someone she could grow old with, and love with every fiber (and snake) of her being. 

The snakes… they each have their own personality. There are thirteen (13) in all. Wanda or anyone for that matter has named them or really knows the difference. However, the two snakes at the very front of her head, close to her temples are easily told apart. On the left, there is Fang. She has a visible attitude and can hardly believe her fate was to be on top of someone's head. On the right, there is Lucky. Just like her name, Wanda could tell that she felt lucky to be a part of her host. Fang was sassy and defiant while Lucky was just happy to be there. 

Though the rest of the snakes are just as present as Fang and Lucky, they each have a mind of their own and tend to make Wanda laugh despite her fate. Their hisses of protest when Stheno says that it’s getting dark and to come back into the cave, or when Euryale asks Wanda for her help with something while the snakes are sunbathing. My god, do they love the sun!

You did too. It was for a much different reason than what a seeing person might believe. You loved the sun for its two main purposes; to light up and warm the earth. Now, that may be what everyone thinks of Helios, the god of the sun. But to you, it meant so much more. With no sight and just a blurry field of vision in front of you, the sun kept the colorful blobs of people and obstacles slightly more viewable. 

Selene, the moon goddess was not your favorite. Although she lights the night, most occasions it is only a sliver of light. Once a month do you really get to enjoy the darkness with some light guiding you from place to place. On the nights of the new moon, you stayed in the comfort of your home for the night. Although you could not see the phase of which Selene was in, you knew the darker the next night got, the closer it was to a new moon. 

On one particular evening, you were unaware that it was a black moon. Meaning it was the second new moon in a months time. It was getting dark, but you had the thought that it would be bright enough to make it home, only to make a wrong turn when a man pushed past you. 

Villagers helped you put your fallen fruit back into your basket, and a kind woman gives gently places your bamboo guiding stick back in your hand. You thank them, but you missed the opportunity to ask them the direction of your home. Physically you knew where you were, but again, it was getting dark and you were all turned around. 

Hoping for the best in a difficult situation, you chose to turn right. Usually at this cross road, you would be facing North and your home was East, so you would turn right. Unfortunately, this rocky path led you right to Poseidons’ sea itself. And the god was ever so pleased to have a clueless woman enter his domain. Coming up from the oceans depths, he approaches you in your wandering state.

“Can I help you find your way, miss?” The god asks. Your head follows the voice to the right, unaware of who asked the question. 

“I may be a bit lost,” You say with honesty. “I was on my way back from the market, but stumbled and lost the direction I was going.” Explaining yourself to the stranger felt like the logical explanation, but Poseidon used your confusion against you. 

“No, I think you’re in the right place…” He smirks, gently putting his hand on your shoulder. Your head snaps to the sudden touch, clutching your baskets handle a little tighter. Poseidon isn’t aware of your blindness, all you are to him is a means to an end. He is in debt to his father, Kronos. 

Poseidon knew the moment you stepped foot on to his cool sand, he knew you were perfect. As a god, you think he would know everything about you, but you were very wrong. 

“Here, let me help you find your way back to the road.” He says, removing one of your hands from the basket handle. You allow him, but you are confused as you continue to feel sand beneath the sole of your sandals. The moon was not there, and you were helpless. 

Kronos, the god of time, was betrayed by his son. Poseidon decided to ask his father for time. All the time in the world, when he got ahold of Wanda. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her, fucking her and holding her when she is begging to see her sisters again only to drag her under the oceans surface when he is bored of her. Poseidon gets bored very easily, but Wanda’s pussy was different. Although his father did not question what he was going to use this time for, automatically a debt was owed. 

Poseidon decided against using this time with Wanda, as her whining and begging becoming increasingly annoying. So he sent her back to her sisters to live in peace. That is, until Athena came along of course. He was adamant that he shouldn’t have to pay his father back since he did not use the time. Kronos lended him this time willingly without question. He was determined to get it back. And Poseidon had his sacrifice right in front of him. 

His hand pulled you in the direction of a large rock by the edge of the water, a place that Poseidon remembers greatly. Andromeda was supposed to be sacrificed there, but Perseus swept in and came to the rescue, stopping a large sea monster with the help of Athenas spear and Artemis’s winged sandals. It was a shame to see such a beautiful sea creature leave the world in such a damaging way. 

“Here we are, back on the road again, just a little further,” Poseidon says, his other hand taking the basket from your hands. 

“Hey w-wait, I need tha-” You are cut off by a calloused hand clasping over your mouth. 

“Just stay still and it will all be over soon.” The god whispered in your ear. Your breaths were staggered as you heard his words, confused by what he meant. Soon his hands were untying the soft rope from around your waist holding your silk toga to your body. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving you only in your under garments. You whimpered, trying to understand what is happening.

“Please, whoever you are, let me go. H-have my fruit, t-take the gold!” You fought hard against the gods rock hard torso, fearing for your life. 

“I told you to be still!” He shouted. His arms wrapped your body and he threw you over his shoulder. Damp hair rubbed against your skin as you struggled and a chiseled arm wraps their way around your legs to keep them still. A hard hit to your barely covered ass made you yelp, and you tried scratching at Poseidons back. The immortal couldn’t feel pain, so he took no thought of it. 

With little to no trouble at all, he put your squirming body on the sand and held his hand over your neck to keep your back against the rock. The power he had was nothing compared to your mortal strength. So he held you still by straddling your legs, while his hands expertly tie your wrists together with the very rope keeping your toga on. 

“Please sir, please I’ll do anything.” You whimper as tears fall from your grey eyes. The god ignores you and takes the chain set under the rock by Zeus himself and begins to connect your now-restrained wrists to it. You were trapped, and you could only pray to the gods, any of them, to show you any mercy. 

“There. No need to cry, little one. You are a divine sacrifice for a god that has a lot of power. Don’t struggle, it makes him angry.” Poseidon said, and he tightened his already perfected knot in the rope. 

He stepped back from your crying form and looked up to the sky. “I come to give the debt I owe! Isn’t she enough, father??” He shouts his arms opening. The sea is uneasy, his emotions controlling the tide. 

Thunder claps and you know Zeus is present. “No, brother. Not now.” Poseidon growls, the intention of this sacrifice going to his father, not his sibling. 

The rain soaks into your skin and clothes causing the thin band holding your breasts and underwear to become sheer and see-through. Poseidon took notice of your exposed body and paused his message to his father. Making his way to you, he smirks as he sees you trying to move your wrists from the sturdy, iron padlock connecting them to the chain. “It’s no use, ομορφιά μου (my beauty).” 

You don’t look at him, your futile attempts at escaping only end in failure. He growls when you ignore him, not acknowledging his clear compliment at calling you “his beauty.” Approaching you, he knelt down in front of you and roughly pulled you to face him by your chin. The moment his eyes met yours, an epiphany hit. 

“You’re blind?” He asks, pulling his hand away from you like you were a leper. He knew his father would never take such a broken sacrifice. “Disgusting.” He spat while he stood up. He begins to walk away, your ears barely picking up on his steps thumping in the sand. 

“W-wait! Wait please let me go! I wan-want to go home!” You shout his way, but the god only ignores you walking into the sea and leaving you exposed for anything. 

In a sense, you were grateful that you were no longer Poseidon's sacrifice. But you were still stuck in your current situation, so you went to your last resort. You started to call out, shout, scream, to anyone who you thought could save you. An hour had passed and your voice was nothing more than a croak. 

You were starting to believe that you were going to die on a God's beach with no one in sight to help you. However, someone was watching from afar. A woman who fears to look at you without the knowledge that you are blind. But she was in the same position as you, and she wanted to help you. Yet, she hasn’t had anyone to keep for herself. 

So she considered. Would she be just as evil and selfish as Poseidon for taking you? Could she make you believe that she rescued you and instead not let you leave her cave? Stheno and Euryale would most likely not approve, Wandas sisters love her and only want what is best for her. The snakes on Wanda’s head hissed in question, Lucky gently rubbing her scaly head against her cheek. 

“I know, I really shouldn’t. But she was a victim of that retched god too. Maybe I can finally feel in control… when I am in control of her? I- I don’t want to turn her to stone…” Fang hissed in response, her tongue tickling her opposite cheek. “I could blind fold her, and you’re right, she needs someone to take care of her. She looks like she’s about to die right there. That bastard…” Wanda says to Fang, starting her journey from the beach's small cliffs to the rock you were restrained to. 

Before she makes it to you, she gathers the fruit that fell when the god took you and sets them back into the basket. Then she reaches for your discarded dress and picks it up as well. Finally, she reaches you. Her heart breaks when she sees you. Your wrists are rubbed raw, blood soaking the brown rope surrounding them, tears are stained on your cheeks and your eyes are closed. 

Wanda rips a piece of cloth from your toga and kneels down next to you. Peacefully asleep, you are still as she ties the cloth around your eyes. With the blindfold on, Wanda leans her head down to the rope encasing your injured wrists, one of her snakes near the back of her head — the one with much sharper fangs — begins to chew on the rope. The rope broke free and your arms fell loosely to your lap. 

The smallest whimper left your mouth, exhaustion keeping you fast asleep. Wanda admired your stoic look, your exposed chest moving up and down slowly with each breath you took. She sighs softly, knowing how it felt to be left exposed, for anyone to come across. Her empathy grew as she looked at you, your nipples were seen through the sheer fabric of your strophic (greek bra) and the wind nipped at your skin causing goosebumps to pebble. 

Shaking her head and mentally cursing the sea god, she wraps the fabric of your dress around your body; Adding a length of seaweed to keep it secured to your waist. Oh so gently, she lifted your unconscious body into her arms smiling as your head rolled against her chest. Lucky and Fang were eager to meet you, both of their heads trying to get as close to you as possible. 

“Hey, you’ll get to meet her when we go back home, ok? I promise,” Wanda chuckles, and the snakes pull their bodies back to their place closer to her scalp. 

The journey to her cave was not very far, just around the bend of the cliff. North of where you were destined to be sacrificed. She took care with each step taken, making sure that her prized possession was still asleep, and comfortable. Lucky and Fang looked over you as you slept, keeping their distance until Wanda let them say hi. As scary as they may look, they are all puppies at heart.

Chills crept up your spine as Wanda entered the cave with you in her arms, and goosebumps began to pebble on your skin. She takes notice, gently laying you down on her straw bed in the dim fire-lit cave. Your head lulled to the side, causing Wanda to jump slightly, forgetting that you had the blindfold on to protect you. 

Stheno and Euryale were surprised to see another woman besides their little sister inhabiting the cave, and they curiously looked over your unconscious body. 

“Wanda? Who is this sleeping woman?” Said Stheno, creeping quietly behind her sister. 

“I don’t know her name yet, but I saved her from an untimely death. Poseidon had gotten ahold of her, hoping for a sacrifice, but was unsatisfied by her,” Wanda explains, sighing as she drags her knuckle down your lightly textured cheek. “That bastard is nothing but trouble.” She sighs, trying her hardest to not look at her sisters, understanding that even immortals can turn to stone with one gaze at her eyes.

Euryale eyed Stheno, worried that Wanda may be turning into someone she swore to never become. 

“Did she come willingly?” Euryale asked, settling her wings against her feathered back. 

“She hasn’t woken up yet, but I am sure that she will understand, right?” Wanda was anxious about your awakening, your acceptance of your stay was appreciated and not feared. “Should we wait outside until she wakes up?” 

Wanda's older sisters nod their heads. “I don’t want to frighten her when she opens her eyes. I believe we would be some of the last monsters she would want to see.” Of course, they don’t know that you are unable to see…

“I will go tend to the sheep,” Euryale said.

“I will go set up a fire on the beach and start cooking your meal,” Stheno said, both creatures leaving to do their tasks. 

“And I will go help, and wait for my sleeping beauty to awaken.” Wanda says with a smile, softly swiping her thumb over your cheek. 

~~~~~~~

The same as every other day, your eyes open to a blur of shapes and colors. However, this time is different- you are met with complete darkness, the atmosphere is cold and almost damp, and the scent of salt water fills your nose. There is cloth over your eyes, something you don’t take mind to. Trying to find where you are, you feel around your surroundings to retrieve your guiding stick only to be met with sand, small rocks, and straw. These sensations were familiar but not something you would regularly wake up to. 

Standing up, you struggle to navigate through the cave you concluded you were in, reaching for a wall or something to stabilize yourself with. You let out a sigh of relief as your hand reached a rocky wall. Now you were stuck, you didn’t know what way led out of the cave. 

“Hello?” You call out, your voice echoing through the cave. Your head turns in the opposite direction as you hear padded footprints against the sand. Your worries heightened, unknowing of the person approaching you. 

“Hello dear, I’m so glad to see that you are awake, how do you feel?” The smooth voice of a woman is heard. Gentle, yet assertive. Confusion melts across your face and you take an unintentional step back, causing a slight hissing from the woman in front of you. 

“I- I feel fine, wh- where am I?” You ask, distressed and scared. Being unable to see every day was fine with you, as long as you knew where you were. That fear skyrocketed the moment you woke up in a new environment. 

“No need to worry about that, sweetheart. Come with me,” The woman said, and with a soft hand, she grabbed yours. The unexpected contact started you, but you followed nonetheless. 

“Who are you, a-and why am I here? I want to go back to my home, please.” Cracks in your voice made Wanda turn to face you, only to be met with tears rolling down your cheeks. 

She sighs and stops just at the entrance of the cave. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you are safe here now. That god won’t get you here.” 

“God?” You don’t remember what had happened the night before, your memory fogging up after falling at the crossroads. “What do you mean, “safe now?” I just want to get back home, the fruit was so expensive.” 

Pulling away from Wanda, you grab at the cloth around your eyes. The fabric falls from your head and hits the ground faster than Wanda can stop you. Panic fills her system, and she quickly turns her head away from you, her head of red snakes following. 

A soft red tendril of energy hits your temple, and you fall unconscious. Before your body hits the ground, Wanda turns and catches you just in time. Guilt takes over her as she looks at your sleeping form, Lucky and Fang are equally as concerned for you as their host. 

The scaled head of Fang nudges against Wanda's cheek, a small hiss emitting from her mouth. “Yes, she’s ok. She was nervous and wanted to see where she was, I know that. Im just going to put her by the fire until she wakes up.” She responds to Fang, her little eyes rolling as she gently taps his head from getting any closer to you. 

As gently as she can, Wanda lifts you into her arms and brings you out to the fire that Stheno lit. She sits down and lays your head in her lap, softly brushing a few grains of sand from your cheek. A groan emits from your closed lips and you subconsciously roll your body closer to the warm fire. It brings you a sense of safety a blanket could never do justice. 

But the feeling of being so close to Wanda felt just as safe, even though you did not know where you were or who you were even with. Her presence gave you a comfort that you hadn’t felt before. Her soft toga rubbed against your cheek, and you nuzzled into it subconsciously. Wanda’s lips turned up into a smile, petting your hair with a gentle hand. The sensation begins to wake you up, pulling you from your forced slumber. Slowly your eyes open, the dull shade of yellow filling your blurred and confined field of vision. 

The blindfold was still on, however, you didn’t mind this time. Whoever’s hold you are in made it clear that they do not want to be seen. Although you are unable to see, you keep your eyes glued to the fire in front of you, the light slightly dimmed by the blindfold. 

“Are you awake, dear?” Wanda’s voice sounds from above you, and you nod your head that lays in her lap. 

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice filled with curiosity but not fear. 

“My name is Wanda, and you are here with my sisters Stheno and Euryale. You are safe, sweetheart.” Wanda responds, her knuckle softly dragging down your cheek. She smiles as you begin to sit up, allowing you to fully sit next to her. 

Your next question was quick to exit, “Where are we? I was on my way home but was turned around,” You explained your situation, leaving out the part where the god almost sacrificed you to his father but left you for the dead when he decided you were not good enough. “I hear water,” You point out. 

“Yes, we are on the beach a ways North from Athens. You needed help, as when I found you, you were chained to a rock,” Wanda said bluntly. “But you’re safe now,” Her snakes hissed at the thought of the woman in front of them being used as a sacrifice, but Wanda was quick to hush them. “And what is your name, sweetheart?” 

The feelings of the rope around your wrists caused you to cringe in disgust, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“R-right…” You respond, trying to get the thought of death from your mind. Shaking your head, you sigh softly and lean back on one hand, answering Wanda's question, “My name is Y/n.”

“What a beautiful name, but I think I’ll stick to calling you sweetheart. Is that alright?” Wanda asks, her finger softly brushing over the exposed skin of your arm. A small smile grows on your lips and you nod. 

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” You say, a small giggle leaving your mouth. “I- um, I do have to ask. Why am I blindfolded?” The question was burning at the back of your skull for what seemed to be hours. From the first time you woke up to now, you had been aching for an answer. 

Wanda hesitates. When she was turned by Athena, she never looked at her sisters. Even though they were immortal, they could still turn to stone if they met her gaze with their own. You hear a soft sigh and her soft voice tainted with sadness answer, “There is a dangerous creature around here that has the ability to turn any entity into stone once you look into her eyes. I cover your eyes for the purpose of protection.” 

“But I can’t see,” You protest, reaching for the fabric. Wanda's hand wraps around your wrist as she stops you. “No, you don’t understand, I can’t see, even with the blindfold off. I was born blind," you explain, trying to help the woman in front of you understand that you were not in danger. 

“Blind?” Wanda asks, your hands falling into hers as you move to your knees. “Meaning, you are unable to see anything?” 

You nod, hoping she can see you. “Yes. There are only blobs of color here and there, but other than that, I can’t see a thing.” It was always difficult to explain what you could see. There was no reason it should be this hard as you could always say: ‘I can’t see anything,’ but you always go to the ‘blob of color’ explanation first. 

“I don’t want to risk it, sweetheart. Blind or not, we don’t know who is not affected by her power,” She pauses, “Ive only just begun to get to know you, I don’t want to talk to a statue of such a beautiful woman.” 

You feel heat rise from your neck, to your cheeks, all the way up to your ears. Her compliment makes you smile brightly. “O-oh, thank you…” You say, shyly looking away from her. “I understand, but, I really don’t think I will be affected, honestly!” You attempt to grab the blindfold again, this time successfully ripping it from your head. The fabric falls to the ground and you blink to allow your eyes to settle back to normal. “If I can’t see the creature, I don’t think it will be a bother,” You smile.

Wanda sighs and closes her eyes, pulling her gaze away from your beautiful figure. She hums as she feels your hand against her shoulder, your thumb softly rubbing over her skin. “May I feel your face? I would love to have an idea of what you look like to others,” You ask her, not wanting to seem too forward with your request. “Only if you allow it…” 

Wanda keeps her head down, her snakes moving down to your hand to move their little tongues over your skin to learn more about you. 

“Oh, oh? What are these?” She hears you say. She is taken aback by the giggling she hears next. “They’re tickling me,” You say, your sweet laughter filling the air. “Is this your hair?” Your finger hovers in the air just above her shoulder and the rest of the snakes lick it as well. 

Wanda’s silence is enough to answer your question. 

“I wish I could see them, they all seem so gent- ow! Except this little one,” Fang, still a little nervous to be around a new face, bites down on your finger. It was not as painful as you thought it would have been. Wanda jumped at your pain and immediately tapped Fang’s head to discipline her. 

“No biting! She is a friend, not an enemy!” Wanda whisper-shouts at her, and you giggle quietly to yourself. “I apologize for her behavior, she knows better.” The snake hisses in return and she sighs as she moves her gaze up just a little bit. Her eyes land on your beautiful breasts, your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your toga. Wanda knows she should not be lusting, but she can’t help it. 

You tilt your head at her scolding her head of red snakes, and your hand falls. “I don’t want to intrude on your home. Thank you for saving me, Wanda, but I best be on my way,” You say, standing up. Carefully, you try to reach around for a stick of some sort, nothing close to you. All you can do is stand awkwardly, trying to keep calm as you listen to the waves crashing against the sand. 

“No, you need to rest, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day, so why don’t you sit down and we can eat? Stheno has made some bread, and the chicken is just about done.” Wanda tries everything in her power to make you stay, not wanting to force you just yet. In her mind, she knows she will make you stay. 

Your stomach rumbles, and Wanda chuckles. “It seems like your hunger has spoken for itself, so lets sit you down again.” 

Before Wanda is able to help you sit down, or protest about anything for that matter, you reach up to feel her face, your eyes meeting hers. Although you were unable to see her beautiful green and red mixed eyes, she saw your grey ones. Your irises held no color, and a scar-like line of [your original eye color] strikes through your right eye. 

You didn’t turn to stone…

“Wanda… Wanda look!” Stheno exclaims. The woman you are looking up at tilts her head, her power not working on you. 

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You ask, retracting your hands from her cheeks. Instantly, she pulls them back. 

“No, no you didn’t hurt me, sweetheart. I- I am just surprised… my power, it didn’t work,” She says, churning confusion inside of your head. 

“Power?” You pause, putting two and two together. “The creature you mentioned… the one that can turn people to stone, you are her… aren’t you?” 

Wanda nods, your hands moving with her head. “Yes, and, I was trying to protect you, but-”

Your thumb gently brushes over her lips, the rest of your fingers ghosting over her facial structure, sculpting a picture in your mind. “I’ve only heard legends of a so called “monster” in these parts. But I have yet to meet a monster… Besides that god that tried to sacrifice me of course, but you? You are no monster.”

Your words made Wanda's heart melt. She has me wrapped around her finger already… there was no way I was letting her go. Her inner thoughts were loud, and she smiled softly as your fingers grazed her lips again. 

“I’m very. Much aware of my inability to see what most people can with their eyes. But…” You pause, your hand cupping her jaw. “I do see your heart, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. You took me in when I was vulnerable and scared, and I can’t thank you enough… You are no monster, Wanda.” You whisper, smiling as you feel Wanda’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you against her body. 

“We’ve only just met, sweetheart…are you already falling for me?” Wanda teases, making you giggle as you lay your hand on her shoulder and drop your head to her chest. 

“I might be… or I might just be hungry,” You prod back, your stomach doing somersaults as her lips press to your forehead in a soft kiss. “I hope its the former…”

~~~~~~~

As the night went on, you, Wanda, and her sisters enjoyed the food. You were happy you got to know Wanda a bit more while you talked amongst yourselves. She told you about her troubles with Poseidon, and how she became the 'monster' everybody claims her to be. She mentioned how she is still mortal and will die a death as any other mortal would. 

It saddened you that she considered herself a ‘monster’, but you comforted her every time. She was not a monster in your mind. She was a victim who was punished for someone else’s doing, as were you. Although it was Poseidon who made his father angry, he punished you by trying to sacrifice you. You found common ground with Wanda. 

“I think we will head into the cave for the night,” Said Stheno, nudging Euryale. “Just be sure to put the fire out when you both are done.” 

Wanda nodded at her older sisters, shooing them away as she turned back to you. “It is such a beautiful night… I wish you could experience it the way I am,” She said to you, her fingernails tickling your arm as you lay in her lap. Her heart flutters at the feeling of your body weight in her lap, it grounded her. 

“I can see how beautiful it is by feeling it,” You turn your body so you are looking up at Wanda, her snakes curiously looking back down at you. “I feel a small breeze against my skin, and I can hear the waves crashing against the sand. I can smell the salt coming from the sea, and I can hear your breaths. All of these things are such a beautiful image to me.” 

Wanda’s lips pull up into a smile, a real, genuine smile. It had been so long since she felt as happy as this. It had been so long since she felt so carefree. As you spoke about your experience with your other senses, Wanda softly caressed your cheek. She hums quietly as she notices goosebumps form on your arms. “I have taken my sight for granted,” She says suddenly, taking in everything you said about feeling everything surrounding you. 

“To a deaf person, I have taken my hearing for granted as well, but I am grateful that I can hear your voice,” You counter her thoughts, wanting to make her not feel so guilty about her advantage of sight. 

“Your thoughts are just as beautiful as you are, sweetheart,” Wanda pauses, her fingers moving from your cheek to your neck. Slowly she moves closer to the dip in your dress, your breasts now free from their undergarments, and lying loosely behind the fabric of your toga. “You have the body of a goddess, the mind of a sage, and such a sweet personality.” 

Her hand gently cups your breast, nimble fingers rubbing over your hardened nipple, peaking through the white dress. Your hand goes to hers, holding it still. She freezes, “Can I see you, sweetheart? All of you?” She asks, knowing exactly how it felt being forced to submit to someone much more powerful than her.

As you sit upright, you untie the piece of seaweed holding your dress around your body, the sleeves sliding down past your shoulders finally revealing your round, perfectly shaped breasts. Wanda sucks in a soft breath, an aching in her belly starting to form. She needed you, badly. 

From her crossed-legged position on the ground, Wanda moves to her knees. You can sense her shifting, and you look around to follow the noises. Wanda's smooth hands softly guide you to your back, laying you gently against the sand below you. She then slowly pulls the rest of your dress off, exposing the rest of your beautiful body. “You are even more than I imagined…” She whispers, leaning down close to your chest. 

She presses a kiss to the valley of your bosom, moving her lips up your sternum and to your neck, hovering just over your jugular. You can feel her smile against your neck and you turn your head to expose more skin to her. 

The goddess above you couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Looking at your perfect body from her perspective was riveting, and it drove her mad. Her breath fanned against your lips, your body frozen and waiting for her to kiss you. That dull aching in Wanda's core grew, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck, and you giggled as some of her snakes licked your hands. But Wanda wanted something else. 

Her eyes began to glow a bright red, her head of snakes wrapping around your wrists. You gasped but allowed it to happen. As she leaned down lower, her snakes held your arms to the ground, holding you open and exposed to Wanda. As she continued to kiss you, her hand crept down your belly and to the soft hairs of your mound. She rubbed your petals, smirking against your lips as she could feel how wet you already were. 

“Mmm, are you all wet just for me, sweet girl?” She whispers against your lips, chuckling softly as you nod desperately. “Such a good girl,” Her fingers finally dip between your wet folds, perfectly rubbing your button of nerves. A moan leaves your mouth, your legs spreading to give her more access. 

“Feels s-so good, W-wanda,” You whimper, never feeling such great pleasure before. Your back arched against the cool sand, your arms still pinned to the sides of your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you saw starts as the tight coil in your core began to form. 

“I can feel that you’re close, sweet heart,” Wanda mumbles darkly against your cheek. Your mind clouded with a lustful mist, your legs shaking as your orgasm came crashing down upon you just as the waves did the sand. A loud moan leaves your mouth, Wanda's name being cried out by the woman underneath her. 

Your breaths come out in soft pants, gulping in as much air as you can as your orgasm calms down. But Wanda is far from done. Her snakes uncoil from your wrists and she moves her lips down your body, her mouth meeting your dripping folds. You let out a whimper, your clit sensitive from her previous ministrations. “Relax, sweet girl…” She whispers, “I need to taste you,”

Her lips close on your engorged clit, swirling her tongue in just the right way to make you moan her name. She spreads open your pussy with one hand, her fingers prodding at your tight hole with the other, and you jolt in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Wanda's snakes are quick to calm you down, their heads rubbing against your thighs in gentle circles. 

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well,” Wanda says, two of her long fingers sliding into your soaking hole, a whimper leaving your mouth at the same time. “Keep making those cute little sounds, love,” She eggs you on and you give in to every command. 

Your moans are music to her ears, the frequent movement of her fingers pulling each mewl from your throat. A ‘pop’ is sounded as her lips suctioned off of your clit, but returning soon after.

Her fingers move faster, and her tongue moving around your clit pushes you over the edge, causing your second orgasm to flow through you. Your juices squirt out of your quivering hole, soaking Wanda’s face along with some of her snakes. 

“Oh… how beautiful, and delicious you taste, sweetheart.” Wanda smiles against your pussy, pressing her lips to the top of your mound softly and kissing up your body. Her lips wrap around one of your nipples, and your hand reaches to find her pussy. 

“Wanna feel you…” You say, rubbing your hand over her belly and lower, finally reaching her pussy as you push your hand under her dress. 

“By all means. You are mine and I am yours,” Wanda says, resuming the pleasure of your nipple. 

You feel her clit, rubbing her in slow circles at first. Slowly, your fingers move to her hole as well, gently easing into her and smiling as you hear a moan from her mouth. The vibrations from her throat send more pleasure through your nipples, pulling more moans from your own mouth. 

As you move your fingers in and out of her wet cunt, the palm of your hand rubs against her clit. You can feel her body shake, her breath quiver, and her breasts against your own body. All sensations you never thought you would love so dearly. 

Wanda is close, and she leans up from your nipples to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, her hole clenching around your fingers as she cums. You swallow her moans, your free hand coming up to cup her cheek as you return the kiss. 

“Wands,” You whisper, not moving away just yet. Gently, you slide your fingers from her pussy, bringing them to your mouth and seductively sucking her juices off of your digits. “Such a ravishing taste, my love,” 

Hearing those last two words made Wanda's stomach do backflips. Belonging to someone was all she wanted, and she wanted you to belong only to her. “Your love?” She asks, pulling away just to see your lips move. 

“My love, Wanda,” You confirm, smiling as you lean up to kiss her again. 

~~~~~~~

It is long past midnight, and Wanda has you in her arms, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. With your head on her chest, you can hear her heartbeat, the soft thumping calming and lulling you to sleep. 

“Thank you for saving me, Wanda. I- I don’t know what how I can express to you how grateful I am,” 

That sparks an idea in Wanda’s head. You were a kind and loving soul, most likely willing to do anything to repay someone for their own kindness. So, she makes her plan fall right into place. 

“Stay with me? Live here with me and my sisters? We all can tend to you, help you navigate, and we can even go to the village just East of here. But stay, please?” Wanda asks you, her lips gently pressing against your head as you think. 

“I have no one back where I am from. They all shunned me because I couldn’t see. I can’t say no to such an amazing and thoughtful proposal as this,” You sit up, maneuvering your body to straddle her lap as she leans against the rock that was settled closer to the water. You nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, Lucky gently laying her head on yours as well, and you close your eyes. “I would love to stay with you, only you. Forever.” 

[munefille]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥

yandere!m.merman x gn.reader

cw: mentions of death, disturbing imagery

as a fish takes refuge inside an oyster, it sees only the chance to hide from the unforgiving water within the calm mollusk, unaware of the true nature of its biology. unfortunately for the fish, the oyster has already activated its unique defense mechanism, encasing the fish as an immortal, precious pearl.

The rhythmic push and pull of the tides never failed to lull you into a state of mild stupor. Soft, slightly cool sand cushioned you while a gentle breeze brushed past your cheek and played with your hair. The day was only moderately gloomy, a grey tinted sky hanging over you as the clouds came and went, the sun nowhere to be seen. Still, you almost liked it better like this. The beach was more private, freer without the confines of eyes watching it.

Your calloused feet hopped onto the rocky shore, leaving the inviting sand disturbed as a sign of your presence. The salty ocean scent intensified the closer you came to the evermoving water. You stood atop the tallest rock, attempting to scan the waves at your vantage point, searching for your most curious find.

At last, peeking out from between the waves, did you spot the partially submerged head of your friend. His black eyes were trained on your form, no doubt watching you long before you noticed him.

A grin emerged across your face. "I see you!" you called, motioning for him to come closer as you waded into the water. The eyes disappeared beneath the tide at your request.

You felt him before you could see him, smooth scales wrapping around your leg in a firm hold. He reappeared directly in front of you, inky black eyes mere inches away from your own.

The creature's appearance was a far cry from the mermaids of your childhood, beautiful human women who happened to have a tail as their bottom half. No, he hardly mirrored the sentimental fairytale. You noticed his eyes first, sclera and pupil alike darkened together as they melded into each other- then you noticed his rubbery flesh stretched taunt across his sharp bones, with pale, sallow skin, nearly as grey as a corpse. You initially thought that's what he had been when he simply peered at you from afar, unmoving and unblinking against the rocking sea. He was just humanoid enough to lure concerned passersby like yourself deeper into the water, yet not quite passable as human.

In a closer vicinity, as you are now, you could see small scales dotting his cheeks and neck. Under the right light they appeared as little moons, revealing an opalescent luster that you could only describe as ethereal.

"Hello," you greeted with a wide close-lipped smile. Last time you had bared your teeth at him ended with him misunderstanding your friendliness for a threat. You weren't sure if he could talk, but that didn't stop you from trying to make conversation. You had a feeling he understood you to an extent anyways.

The mercreature tilted his head sideways in response, sleek, wet dark hair falling over his shoulder. An inscrutable expression remained plastered on his features; one you gave up trying to interpret using human facial language.

Silky scales gently tugged you further into the waves towards a rocky mass that stood above the crashing water. The current strengthened, oscillating you to its whims, but the guidance of the unyielding sea creature kept you from being swept away entirely. Although you would consider yourself a strong swimmer, you knew you would never compare to a creature born of the water, one who moved so in tune to the sea that his lithe form became indistinguishable from the tides.

Finally, you reached the rocks, gripping the relatively dry surface for relief from the unrelenting waters. You found a comfortable position on them, resting your upper body while you let your legs dangle. The mercreature remained below, lower half of his face once again concealed under the water, leaving only his unblinking eyes visible. His body underneath the water became obscured even further by the dark ring of hair that floated around him. Those eyes regarded you with scrutinizing intensity that would've resembled a predator, had you thought hard enough about it.

"What a nice view-" you began, but the thought was cut short when your companion pulled himself below the water, disappearing from your sight almost completely, save for the movement in the water that signified a strong tail pushing against it.

Confusion laced your face. The few minutes he had gone was enough to make you worry. Why had he left so abruptly? Surely he would be back? You weren't certain you could swim back to shore on your own. Although you trusted him- in fact, you would even consider him a friend- doubt from his apparent unpredictability lingered. After all, you had no way to reliably communicate, nor were you sure if your opinion of your relationship was mutual.

Your concerns vanished as he broke the surface of the water, swimming towards the rocks with something that gleamed as the light hit it.

He stopped at your feet, lifting the object slowly up to you. If you hadn't known better, you'd say the action seemed almost shy.

A gasp left you as you got a view of it. In his webbed, slender fingers lay a glistering mass of refined pearl, hints of color dancing across it the glossy surface. Distantly, you recalled that the creature's scales were of the same material. It resembled an anatomically correct heart. Never before had you seen a pearl shaped in such a way, nor did you know how it could've been, or why the shape was so accurate, even down to the imprint of the vessels. It was as if the thing had been pulsating. Why was it so accurate?

The beautiful piece was presented to you like a gift, so you had gladly accepted. You collected it from the awaiting hands. The coolness of it nearly burned you as it touched your flesh, the brilliant iridescence of it stealing your attention away from the faint scent of iron permeating the breeze. It distracted you from the bloody teeth of the now grinning merman, sharp rows glinting bright cardinal red. You thought nothing of the diluted red in the dark water, seeping towards your feet. The sinking body below, twisted and stuck eternally in a cry for help, was lost to you as you held the glimmering heart with reverence.

_____________________________✧_______________________________

i love creepy mermaids

[calicoheartz]

need need need something about Caitlin dating a famous popstar, think Sabrina carpenter

☆ espresso ; Caitlin Clark

summary : caitlin clark x pop star reader!

synopsis : you are the music scenes next hot thing , who happens to be dating worldwide famous wnba player (set a tiny bit into the future)

warnings : tiniest bit suggestive if you squint , pure fluff !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n: thank you to the lovely person who suggested this! i changed some of the lyrics in the song for it to make sense but it shouldn’t be too noticeable. Enjoy ◡̈

You were the music industry’s next hot thing. From performing at smaller venues, to headlining at Coachella; you were everywhere. Along with your wnba superstar, Caitlin Clark.

The two of you had met while you were preforming a gig at a local bar , a little right before you got your big break. Ever since then, the two of you had been inseparable. Both instantly drawn to each others passion and drive for your careers.

But with Caitlin’s demanding basketball schedule and your international shows and tours , maintaining your relationship proved to be a challenge. Only relying on calls , texts , and surprise visits whenever you can to steal a moment together amidst your busy lives.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you’ve seen your loving girlfriend. With the wnba draft and Coachella starting to kick off, the universe was simply pulling you two away from eachother.

You were sitting in your dressing room , preparing to go on stage to kick off the second weekend at the bustling festival , the biggest festival of the year for that matter. Your nerves were practically eating you alive, you knew she would be in audience. You toyed with your hair as your makeup artist finished the final touches of your look , as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. The skirt that perfectly hugged your curves , delicately adorned with lace and bows , your signature look.

You soon snapped back to reality, with the cheers from the audience slowly making its way into your mind. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the moment that could make or break your career. You planned on preforming your newly released song espresso , as a way to give your girlfriend a little treat on her first day back.

You made your way to the stage , sporting your signature beach waves and skimpy clothes, the intro to the song soon began and your eyes darted across the crowd. Begging to meet with the one pair of eyes you can call her own.

You hear the crowd begin to chant your name , you lock eyes with Caitlin briefly, sending a smirk your way. Prompting you to slowly begin to sway your hips as you begin to sing..

❝ now she’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night oh, is it that sweet? I guess so ❞

you turn towards caitlin , seeing a big grin on her face , as she very well knows the melodic tune is referencing your whirlwind romance. Your hips continue to sway as the lyrics danced off the tip of your tongue , hitting every note in the process.

❝ And i got this one girl

And she won’t stop calling

when they act this way..

I know i got ‘em ! ❞

The crowd begins to scream , noticing your small wink towards caitlin , making it painfully obvious of your ode to her throughout the song

As the lyrics then again roll off your tongue like sweet honey, you continue to prance around the stage earning gasps and applause from the audience, and most importantly; a hungry gaze from your girlfriend. Her eyes practically undressed you as they wandered from your hips to your face, and vice versa. You immediately felt butterflies in your stomach, it had been so long since shes looked at you with those eyes. And as much as you wanted to jump off the stage and into her arms, you only had to finish the rest of the chorus and verse before concluding your set.

You began…

❝ I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer…Oh, she looks so cute wrapped around my finger! ❞

The music continues and you feel as if you are on cloud nine. If this doesnt fully establish your relationship with cait, then youre not sure what will. You practically feel her eyes burning into you as you resume your soft sways, slowly becoming more provocative as you reach near the end of the song. You hair slowly flows with the gentle breeze, as you shoot a glance towards your girlfriend, receiving a approving nod in return. You hear your cue, and make your way to the front to face the audience head on, you quickly hit your iconic signature pose while belting

❝ Mmm, that's that me espresso❞

And the audience erupts with claps and chants as you quickly exit the stage, locking eyes with your manager who signals you to head to the back. As you make your way down there, you feel a strong and warming embrace wrapped around your hips, with soft kisses peppering your neck. “Cait!” you squealed, unable to hide your excitement to see the brunette, she grins at your reaction, snaking her arm beneath you as she slowly begins to carry you to your dressing room.

She soon gently puts you down, as she gently begins caressing your cheek. “You did amazing” she muttered, “everytime you preform you never refuse to amaze me with the amount of talent that you have-” you cut her off with a deep and tender kiss, tasting the mango flavored lipbalm that glistened on her lips.

You giggle, simply muttering , youre my honey bee.. Come get this pollen ;)

anywaysss this is my go at pop star reader x cc !! tbh i feel like this is train wreck but you be the judge of that! tysm for reading 🎀

[kawowoa]

a snapshot of nanami’s life after shibuya

info : everyone lives n no one dies trope, gn. reader, nanami and reader are married, reader in their late fifties, nanami in his early fifties, he’s kinda pathetic for reader, old married couple !!!! not proofread

nanami couldn’t believe how far his life has come. the dream of living along the beach side, lounging away on his balcony that overlooked the sea coming to fruition. he doesn’t regret leaving the jujutsu society knowing this is his life now.

it was almost twenty years ago that the trajectory of his life changed—one that made him realize that life wasn’t for him. he earned his scars, now it was time to rest. the shibuya incident still lives in his mind, half of his body a constant reminder of what happened and what he went through.

if it wasn’t for you, he would’ve been dead; falling into a delusion of his hopeful future life on the beach as his body worked overtime trying to fend of a ward of transfigured humans, who lost there lives to the curses and curse users that put them to that terrible fate. dead would engulf him if you didn’t show up in time with that worried look on your face, calling out to him. you were his savior, someone he knew he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with.

“ken! i’m back!” setting the book down on the side table, he watches from the lounge chair as you head straight to the balcony, that same wide grin you held for years for him on your face. even with your age you still had energy as if you were in your twenties.

you stood in front of him, beaming brightly like you were his personal sun. your crows feet extenuating your bright look. he felt your hands cup his face, your lips peppering kisses along his forehead, even pressing one against his eyepatch. “you’re growing your first grey hair, ken! you’re gonna be catching up to me soon!” you teased, running your fingers through his blonde hair as you leaned over him. the grey hair in question was hard to spot, located on his hairline, seamlessly blending into the rest of his hair.

nanami shook his head, catching your hand in his, running his fingers against the thinning skin of your knuckles. “haha, of course. i wouldn’t mind, i get to match with you.”

you waved nanami off, laughing away with that sweet voice of yours. “oh please! you’re such a sap.”

“it’s true, your hair is beautiful now” his gentle hands tucked a stray piece of your greying hair behind your ear, mimicking the way you just held his face.

you grinned, pressing a kiss to his knuckle before pulling away. the wind swept in between your hair as you gazed at the sun setting beneath the waves. “the days about to end, let’s go to the beach.”

it was nice living on the beach, heading the waves crash against the shore and the seagulls chirping as they flew. the summer days weren’t nanami’s favorite, the heat annoyed him, but at these times where the sun wasn’t melting him and the mixing colors of the sky draped across your body giving it a nice glow was his favorite. he loved looking at you when you were laughing and tugging him along the sand.

you made him and his soul smile.

“i love you, you know that?” nanami tugged you closer as your feet stepped onto the wet sand, the waves tickling against your ankles. “im glad to be here with you.”

“i love you too, im sure anyone would be able to see that” you leaned against him, staring up the stars that began to peek out from the clouds as the sun finally set beneath the ocean. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[sometimesanalice]

A prompt party, Alexa? How in the world did I miss that? I'd be over the moon if you could write a little something for Bradley + "i’m gonna marry you one day." 🪩 ✨

Rebecca! Now you know I’m always down to write a little something for a smitten Bradley! I hope you enjoy!

It was a surprisingly quiet night at the Hard Deck.

You could actually hear the music playing out of Penny's old juke box, rather than just the faint essence of notes for whatever oldie was queued up over the usual rowdy ruckus. And there were more empty chairs scattered about than there were taken ones.

It was one of the rare rainy days they got in San Diego. The gray skies and drizzle driving even the best of Uncle Sam's finest under blankets and curled up on couches.

Bradley always liked the moody weather. He liked the way the clouds seemed to cling to the coastline. He liked the rough rolling waves as they broke against the shore with more force than they usually did.

But he wasn't look out the bank of windows out towards the beach, in fact, he had his back turned to it.

Because he was looking at you.

Bradley had been trying to ask you out for the better part of two months now. And he was starting to think that you were giving him the runaround.

He'd learned that first evening that you were only filling in as a favor to Penny- she and your mom went way back as sorority sisters- for a few months as Jimmy recovered from his knee replacement surgery.

Under normal circumstances, he’d take the hint and move on. And even if his mom hadn’t raised him right- which she had- Rooster knew that just because someone was nice didn’t mean they were interested. Especially when it was their job.

But he couldn’t kick the feeling that there was something there.

All he needed was one date to prove it.

It was more than the way you always seemed to catch him looking, because you were looking right back. Or the way you’d slip him a free drink every now and then, saying it was on the house. Or the way you found a way to brush past him a little too close whenever you'd swing by with more peanuts for Bob or a fresh round of drinks for his friends.

You were so damn smart and funny as hell. He’d taken to spending less time on his ESPN app and more time on the NYT trying to find interesting topics to get to spend a extra few minutes with you. Nothing felt better than earning a smile from you.

But any time he got close to asking you out or asking for your number, you were pulled away by something or another. The sound of broken glass. A pointed throat clearing from a thirsty patron. An emergency trip to the storage closet.

Rain was good luck in some places, and Bradley needed all the luck he could get. It hadn’t been on his side in the past two month, but tonight was his night. He was sure of it.

Especially considering he was the only person seated at the bar.

You'd been popping out and checking on people, delivering refills personally to the few people who had braved the elements instead of having them come up to the bar.

Rooster was patient, he didn't mind waiting his turn. After all, he had a shiny new NYT subscription to keep him company.

He smiles to himself when you work your way back to the bar, grabbing the bowl of limes and a cutting board, and setting up right in front of him. He watches as you deftly slice and quarter the limes into wedges, their bright scent clinging in the air.

“Why does it feel like I’ve seen less of you tonight than I do when this place is packed?” Bradley asks, saving the article he was midway through before closing out of the app completely.

“I’m just a one woman show here tonight, I told Penny to stay home." You're tidy and efficient in the way you store the prepped wedges and work to clean up the already immaculate bar. "It's means a bit more running around for me. But I don't mind, I like to keep busy."

"So I've noticed."

You look up at him from under your lashes, as you wipe down the prep space. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Rooster?"

"Now I know you're teasing me." He sets his phone down and levels a look at you. "Because we both know you catch me looking often enough to know the answer to that."

You press your lips together, but the corners curl up anyways.

"Oh, Bradley," you say with a soft sigh. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley..."

And then your eyes drop purposefully down.

The two of you stare at his phone sitting on the shiny bar top.

"You wouldn't," he rasps.

"I think I'm legally obligated to. There's a very official wood sign and everything." You look the picture of innocence, but you don't fool him.

"Sweetheart, c'mon."

"Are you asking me to bend the rules for you? Just because Penny isn't here?" You tsk, with a self-satisfied smile. "And here I thought you were a Boy Scout."

Bradley just shakes his head amused as you sashay up to the bell and give it a loud, long ring. A couple whoops go up in response, but no one gets up. Yet.

You walk back towards him with an all too pleased smile.

"I think you enjoyed that."

You smile wider and don't deny it. "I can't lie, it is a fun perk of the job."

He sighs. "And here I thought we had something special."

"Stop that, you're too pretty to pout," you tease. "You gave me no choice. I don't make the rules, I just follow them. And as much as I love Penny, I have a healthy dose of-"

"-fear-"

You smirk. "I was going to say respect. But also you're not wrong."

"And what about me?" he asks, sitting up straighter on his stool. "What are your impressions of me?"

"Oh you?" You tilt your head to the side, letting your gaze linger on his face as you muse. "You look like trouble."

"Do I now?"

"Mmhm. I thought it from the moment I saw you strut through that door." You say it like you're letting him in on a secret. "And there’s something you should probably know about me."

He leans in closer. "And what's that?"

You mirror him, leaning in as well and resting your elbows on the counter. Your face is just inches from his. “I’m really good at getting into trouble.”

He grins. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You tip your head back and laugh, it’s the best sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“That’s a bold statement from the man who still has yet to ask me out on a date.”

He opens his mouth, to do just that, after months of failed attempts. And then another one of the patrons saddles up to the bar, waving you down for your attention.

Rooster groans.

"Alas, it appears I have another gentleman caller," you sing, reaching for the towel and waving it like a handkerchief in his direction. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, Bradley. Maybe at the end of an aisle, who knows, the night is young."

The smile you give him promises that this conversation isn't over yet.

You spin away from him and don’t give him a second glance as you head over towards the thirsty man whose beer is going on his tab, but there’s a sway in your hips that wasn’t there before.

And Bradley thinks to himself, this is going to be fun. 

[cloudsmateria]

shitty friend. cloud strife x reader

tw: almost smut, forbidden romance

summary: tifa likes cloud, you're pretty sure. and you've been worrying about him ever since you left midgar, until one night in costa del sol you catch him sneaking out, following him on the way in the rain. u might know what happens next.

a/n: guys let me know if you want more of this i might make into a longer thing.

You were stuck sitting at your balcony watching the breeze run through the palm trees, Aerith and Tifa were dead asleep behind you after the long day you had all just had. You should be dead asleep, but your thoughts got the better of you tonight, anytime you laid down your continuous, tangled threads of thoughts came crashing over you. Sector 7, Sephiroth, your parents, Cloud. You were worried about him. He’s been acting off, he’s always been off but now he seemed a lot more lost, frustrated, trying to cover his thoughts up. Even his falling out with TIfa was uncharacteristic of him.

The thought of him was a strange amalgamation of feelings, comforting and fuzzy, or worrying. You don’t know what drew you so much to him, how you felt wasn’t something since you were a kid. You wanted to get to know him as much as possible, to be around him as much as possible, feeling giddier when he gave you a compliment, a look, an anything. Earlier on the beach he came to talk to you, while everyone else agreed to head back, that 10 minute talk felt like an eternity by the sunset, it made you feel warm. 

He worried you beyond what was going on with him. What was going on with you? Why did you like him so much? You had a creeping suspicion it was a crush, but denial didn’t let you acknowledge it. It wouldn’t work. Surely he likes someone else. And you’re pretty sure Tifa’s been in love with him since they were children, that must have gone both ways, especially against you who he’s only known for a month. You groan, leaning your head back against the pillar attached to the balcony fence you were sitting on. The thought of him added to your dizzying thoughts. 

You heard a door quietly creek down the hallway, along with some light noises from the creakier, shitty floorboards, and coincidentally, Cloud walking down the steps of the exit and going for the slim path to the main roads. What was on his mind this time? You silently hop down from your first-floor balcony, quickly walking toward him as you watched him get on the segway, zooming off quite a bit ahead of you. You got on one too, following him to the edge of the touristy bit of Costa Del Sol, getting off when leaving the area. Suspicious? You originally weren’t intending on hiding but that changed, trying to figure out what was going on. 

He ended up walking to the large pond by the cliffside, empty, and quiet, leaning up by one of the boulders and looking the moonlight on the water. You walked out, him looking at you. 

“Hey.”

“Following me?”

“I was worried about you." You said, leaning next to him.

“Why are you still up?”

“A lot to think about.”

“Haven’t got a moment to ourselves since before the reactor.” He said with a sincere look, the buzz was there again. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I’m here to talk to you but… Just everything… Sephiroth. Midgar. Shinra. Tifa. Aerith… You.”

“You shouldn’t worry about me.”

“So why are you out here so late? What are you thinking about?”

He shakes his head, it’s sweet how much you care. “Nothing, just needed a breath of air. Wanted to be alone for a bit but clearly the Planet had different plans.”

“Maybe the Planet is giving you a sign… I know you and I can tell something’s wrong, and you’re not alone. You should talk to me.”

It’s quiet for a second, before he decides to speak. “I’ve noticed about you that too, you never talk about what’s going on in your head.”

“If I did then would you talk to me?” 

He hesitates, he can’t remember the last time he really opened up to anyone about what was going on in his head, his thoughts. He opened one suspicion to Tifa, and look where that got him. But something about you makes him think you’ll listen, you won’t think he’s insane, or weak, something about you puts his head to ease. “Yeah. Why not?”

“I was thinking about my parents in Midgar. I’m mostly worried about you. I can tell you’re low, and there’s a lot on your mind.”

“What about your parents?”

You laugh awkwardly, thinking back to them. No one knows about it yet, Tifa and Aerith knows vague bits, but not the whole story. “My mum went missing when I was 15, and my dad has been missing since I was born.” You said, adding the second bit trying to make a joke out of it. “I don’t really know what happened to my mum, she went missing in Wall Market when she used to do underground fighting for money.”

“I’m…” He was lost for words. “Sorry, that’s horrible.”

“It was a long time ago, all of us have lost our parents so it’s not anything special. I just wonder what happened to her sometimes, and my dad, apparently he was a lovely man but she didn’t talk about him much, I have a few photos and a few letters he wrote to me before I was born.” You looked at Cloud. “He was a SOLDIER First Class in Shinra’s All-Star team before your time, so I assume he’s part of the regiment that died, if my mum got a letter she didn’t tell me.” 

He opened his mouth, but no words came out, there was a distinct solemn expression on his face. “You don’t have to say anything.” You said warmly, with a light laugh. 

“I’m sorry, it’s hard.”

“It doesn’t affect me that much. I found Aerith a year later in Sector 5, then Tifa when I eventually moved to Sector 7. So…” 

He stopped leaning against the boulder, beckoning you to come with him, you get up, walking beside him. “I don’t understand how you just open up to people like that.”

“I’ve never told anyone before.”

“What?”

“Tifa and Aerith just know I don’t have parents, they don’t know the details. Telling people about my past freaks me since I’ve never said anything for so long. But I know you feel the same way, I see myself in you, that’s why I can tell you’re off. We trust each other, don’t we? With everything.”

“I trust you, entirely.” You smile broadly, bumping into his shoulder, and in a strange way he felt at peace, being seen for once. 

“So you gonna keep up your end of the promise?”

“I don’t know, it’s a lot.”

“Nothing’s too much, don’t worry.”

“This might sound crazy, but sometimes, I don’t know if my thoughts are my own, it feels like they’re someone elses. I feel like I get memories triggered from a life and I don’t know if they’re mine or not, it’s all jumbled up, and it’s making me feel insane. Some of my memories don’t match up with Tifa’s, inconsistencies when we were in Kalm with Sephiroth. I started to doubt her, and we got into an argument. I feel crazy. I get these headaches and-” His words started to speed up at the end, groaning in annoyance at his own thoughts, wondering why he didn’t feel uncomfortable saying any of this. 

“It’s okay.”

“I get these headaches like my head is collapsing in on itself, ringing in my ears, static and jumping in my eyes, around Geneva, around fires, just randomly, and I see Sephorith and he’s not there, I can’t touch him, but it feels like he’s there talking to me, taunting me. I can barely move, it hurts so bad. Recently, I’ve been feeling like I’m losing touch with myself and thoughts that aren’t me are taking over me, although I’ve been able to keep it under control.”

“That explains so much… Maybe it’s some kind of mako poisoning?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. What do you think?”

“I don’t think you’re crazy or insane. I honestly think Sephiroth is messing with your head somehow.” You both have made it to the gazebo in the middle of the large pond, you stop to look at him, holding his hand in both of yours, his head blanking out. “We’ll get through this together, don’t worry.” A heavy weight had just been lifted off his chest, to be without judgement for once, to just say everything out loud without being trapped in his own head, alone.

You see him smile, like he’s about to laugh. “What?” You ask. 

“You scare me.” 

“What?”

“I’m too comfortable around you, it scares me out. You have some like, mind control materia on you. It’s weird.”

You laugh. “I can say the same thing about you.” He’s looking down at you with soft eyes, the green in them feels like it’s moving, the moonlight making them shine brighter. You can hear water lightly rippling around you, and looking at him so closely seems to drown the rest of the world out. When you look up at him, he can see the glossy reflection of the moon in your own eyes, lighting up your face. Your heart picks up, starting to hammer in your chest. You catch onto yourself, turning away and clearing your throat, walking to the edge of the gazebo to look over the water. 

You’re getting the wrong idea. You only met him a month ago, you’re out of your mind if you think there’s anything between you two other than friendship.

“Want to head to the beach?”

“It’s so late.”

“We’re used to restless nights anyway, right? It’s not often we get a moment of quiet in Costa Del Sol.” He said, grabbing your wrist to turn you toward him. “We’ll only be 30 minutes.”

“That is such a lie, Cloud Strife.” However, you let him slowly pull you out of the gazebo, in the direction of the beach with a huge smile on his face. 

“You want to, I know you do.”

“You’re such a bad influence.” You say, rolling your eyes sarcastically, walking up beside him, half the way there, you feel a drop on your shoulder. Then two. The four. A few seconds later, a light drizzle. You look at each other and lightning flashes hitting only a kilometer ahead and immediately rain starts crashing down. He grabs your hand since the rain is too loud for you to hear him well, leading you past a tree that seems to lead to nowhere, behind it an entrance into the inside of a hill.

“What’s this?”

“Found it yesterday by accident.” You take a few steps in the dark path, passing through some vine. 

“A lifespring.” You say breathlessly, there’s a small body of water in the middle with a gap in the tip of the hill, rain falling into the pond, the grass, flowers, mako crystals around it, untouched. There’s another hit of lighting and thunder. “Guess I’m stuck out here with you now.”

“This is better than the beach anyway. The rain and thunder add something.”

“Of course, you’d say that, Cloud Strife.”

“Never make a joke again.”

You smile. “It’s calming in a way, I agree with you. I like it too.” There’s a spot beside the pond, close to the crystal cluster you lay in, looking up at the hole rain pouring through, Cloud sits next to you, leaning on his elbows and looking with you. Your eyes shift to him, looking at how his hair has dropped down, swaying back, still fluffy, his side profile is gorgeous too. You could sit there forever looking at him. It seems to click, like a switch in your head. Your heart feels full, your stomach is in knots.

He looks back at you, and he catches the look in your eyes, a light, loving expression. It makes his head go hazy.

His eyes dart back to the sky. He didn't like it. Didn't want to like it. It was a problem, an inconvenience, and yet, he couldn't find himself caring about that. It was an amazing feeling, the feeling he had, even though it scared him. The way your eyes glimmered at him, the soft expression on your lips. 

“Thanks for letting me open up to you, Cloud. It meant a lot.”

"You know I'll always be there for you, you don't have to thank me. If anything, I have more to be thankful for.” There was a moment. “How do you feel about me?”

"I think you're great in every way." You say, vaguely, you cheeks heating up. "I love being around you, you're a good friend. How do you feel about me?"

He hesitates, a pause before he answers, but something about you made him think twice. 

"You're great." You felt a tinge of disappointment but it's what you expected. 

He's looking at you. He wants to kiss you. No. No. Stop. This is the worst thing he could ever do.

"But you don't really see me as a friend, do you?" Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's onto you.

"Cloud, don't be an idiot. Of course, I see you as a friend."

"Then why did you look at me like that earlier?"

"Look at you like what?"

He laughed. "I'm not stupid, you know. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"I..." You didn't know what to say. But you didn't need to know what to say.

“Am I getting the wrong idea?” He said quietly. You shake your head, butterflies being unleashed in your stomach, as his face is so close to yours. He had to be the one with that mind control materia on him, because your head was spinning, before he could even think about what he was doing, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours.

The butterflies in your stomach went crazy, you felt like you were flying, his lips were soft, the surprise took you off guard. When he pulled away, the two of you were breathless. You know what you were doing was wrong, but it was already too late, and you were too hazy to care. You turn over, sitting on his waist, his hands drifting to your hips.

He pulls you down again and kisses you, his arms wrapping around your neck, pulling you closer.

 You were kissing him back, not thinking, letting your feelings take over, you felt amazing, so good, so happy, like your stomach was on fire. He felt the same.

"This is bad." You mumbled against his lips.

"Mhm."

"We can't do this."

"Uh huh." He was barely listening to a word you were saying. 

You kissed him harder. He was all you could think about, how badly you wanted him, needed him. You knew you shouldn't be doing this, you were friends. Nothing could ever happen.

And yet, you were kissing him.

When you finally pulled away, your heart was beating a thousand times a minute, your chest was heavy. You didn't want to get off him, he flipped over changing the positions, pressing his lips against your neck. 

"You're not a good influence, Cloud Strife." You said, breathlessly.

"I know."

He was kissing you like it was his last night alive, his hands were everywhere, running through your hair, on your hips, your thighs. And yet, the two of you were not satisfied, not for a moment.

The feeling of his body pressed up against yours made your brain foggy, you could feel his muscles flexing under your touch.

You were completely lost in each other, unable to tell where you began and ended. His hands coming up to your chest, slipping under your flimsy crop top. You put your hand over his, stopping him, getting hit with the first sensible thought. Tifa.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, we can't. We can't do this, I don't know what came over me."

"I... What?"

"We can't do this." You said. 

"Is there someone else...?"

"No, I’d be a terrible person, I can't do it, can’t do that to my friend..."

"To me?"

"No... Tifa likes you, I'm pretty sure. I just can't..."

"But..." He said, trailing off.

"I can't, and I'm sorry." You said. "You're great, I really like you, but I've already gone too far. “Fuck... I feel awful."

"Don't. I kissed you."

"Let's just... Forget about this, yeah? Just act normal." You tried to stand up, but he pulled you back down.

"I just don't understand, you want this. She's never said anything. Why should we ignore what's so strong between us?"

"But-"

"I'm not interested in her. This is right, us. Don't you feel it?"

"It's wrong, I'm not an option."

"Do you have feelings for me?"

"Yes, almost from the moment I met you and I didn't realise until now, because this can't happen. We're friends. We basically live with Tifa and Aerith, we can't go off complicating things like this."

"They don't have to know."

"Cloud."

"It's worth it, isn't it?"

"Fuck. Fuck. I don't know. I'm scared, and it's too soon, and I'm scared. We can't do this."

...

pt 2?

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Seaside Sparks

Hii, I hope you enjoy this summer romance with Lando :) I think he deserves a happy ending for this last race.

"Not again," you complained in your head as the fourth volleyball fell next to you and your friends. It was a hot summer day, and your friends had decided that the best way to spend it was at the beach. Everything was perfect: no clouds, no wind, the sea was calm. Everything was perfect, except for a group of boys whose ball kept annoying you each time they threw it at you.

"Ugh, are they incapable of playing with the ball inside the volleyball court?" one of your friends complained.

"I'll go give it back this time and ask them to try to avoid us," you said, trying to maintain the peace.

However, the ball soon left your thoughts when you saw the culprit of all the attacks; tall and handsome as hell, with curls that made you want to touch his hair and the most addicting eyes you've ever seen.

"Thanks for bringing the ball back," the boy said as he took you in, leaving him breathless. "I'm sorry for annoying you. I guess volleyball is not our thing. I'm Lando, by the way," he explained as he offered his hand.

"I'm Y/N, and don't worry about it. Just try to hit the ball away from us, or my friend will have a less friendly chat with you," you said, trying to lighten up the situation.

A comfortable silence settled between you two as you gazed at each other, only to be broken by a shout from one of his friends. "Coming! Do you wanna play with us by any chance? We are missing a player," Lando asked, wanting to spend more time with you.

"Me?" you asked, shocked. "Um, sure," you accepted, going with the flow.

You ended up having a lot of fun with Lando and his friends, and you managed to avoid the ball going elsewhere. As the sun set and everyone started leaving the beach, you and Lando tried to avoid leaving each other since you both seemed to have a connection like magnets.

"Do you want to go for ice cream? I know a place," Lando asked nervously.

"Sure," you answered, trying to hide a smile that was threatening to burst from your face.

You wondered what you were doing. You were going on a date, if you could call it that, with a stranger named Lando. You were not a spontaneous girl, but something about him made you want to get to know him, his magnetic aura drawing you in.

As you both approached the ice cream parlor, your hands brushed against each other, and slowly interlaced as blush covered both of your faces.

While you waited in line, you got to know each other, and before you knew it, it was your turn. "I'll have a vanilla ice cream, and she…" Lando started.

"Chocolate ice cream, please," you finished.

As Lando paid, insisting it was his treat, you both settled on a bench overlooking the ocean, the sky painted in vibrant hues of pink and orange by the setting sun. The gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the serene silence between you.

Lando turned to you, his eyes reflecting the warmth of the sunset. "Y/N, I know we’ve only just met, but tonight has been incredible. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this free, without the weight of expectations or the pressure of the world on my shoulders. Spending time with you feels so natural, like we’ve known each other forever."

He paused, searching for the right words, his gaze never leaving yours. "I can’t quite put it into words, but there's this connection between us that I’ve never felt before. It’s like you understand me in a way no one else does. I’d really love to see you again, maybe go on an actual date, if you’d be up for it."

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his sincere confession. "Lando, I feel it too. Today has been magical, and I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. I’d love to go on a date with you."

Lando's face lit up with a genuine smile, and he gently took your hand in his, the touch sending a warm thrill through you. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you both sat there, basking in the new and exciting possibilities that lay ahead.

The silence was broken by your giggles. "Wait, Lando, you have some ice cream on your face," you said as you tried to wipe it off. As your face neared his, your attempts were stopped by his lips crashing into yours in a sweet kiss. It might have been the first, but it surely wouldn't be the last.

The kiss lingered, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of vanilla and chocolate mingling with the saltiness of the sea air. His hand moved to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss, making your heart race. You felt a mix of exhilaration and calm, as if everything in the universe had aligned perfectly in that moment.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting against each other, you both laughed softly, the world around you fading into a blur. "So, about that actual date," Lando said, his voice low and filled with promise. "How about tomorrow? Same time, same place?"

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I’d love that, Lando."

As you walked back to your friends, hand in hand, the future seemed bright and full of endless possibilities. With Lando by your side, you felt like you were ready for any adventure that came your way.

[idkyetxoxo]

Daeron Targaryen - Doomed

Summary - Star-crossed lovers, the only daughter of Rhaenyra and the youngest son of Alicent, destined to be together but doomed from the start, bound by love and fate to an end neither of them could escape.

Pairing - Daeron Targaryen x Velaryon reader

Warnings - Violence, injury

Word count - 3105

Based on this request (anon, I could kiss you! This is genuinely one of my favourite pieces I’ve ever written)

Masterlist for Daeron • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

The only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and the youngest son of Alicent Hightower, bound by fate in the midst of a war that had already claimed too much. 

From the start, our love was doomed a tragedy waiting to unfold—a match as forbidden as it was inevitable.

But how could I help it? How could I stop the wildfire that had taken root in my heart for him? 

His kindness, his tenderness—it was such a contrast to the cruelty of his family, a cruelty that echoed in the halls of the Keep, a place I had once called home before it became a den of enemies.

"You will accept the betrothal, Daeron. We need the allies, and you will forget that girl," Alicent's voice was cold, sharper than the blade of any sword. 

It had only been a week since Daeron returned from Oldtown, but in his absence, war had erupted like wildfire. 

The blood of family stained the earth, and still, his heart was torn, tainted by his mother's venomous words.

"She is not just some girl," he murmured under his breath, his hand running through his silver hair. 

His mind was awash with memories—each one sharper than the last, each one a wound he would never let heal.

We were children when we first met. Innocent, naive, unaware of the storm that would one day swallow us whole. 

We vowed to be friends forever back then as if we could somehow bend the future to our will. But as the years passed, the lines of that friendship blurred.

It was his mother who saw it first, the way Daeron and I gravitated toward each other, our bond deepening into something dangerous, something she could not control. 

She sent him to Oldtown to snuff out whatever flame had sparked between us, but the distance only fanned the embers. 

Letters smuggled by ravens, secret meetings in the dead of night—no wall was high enough, no ocean wide enough to keep us apart.

Every stolen laugh, every whispered promise only bound us closer. We defied the world, knowing it would condemn us if it knew, but caring so little for what came next. 

For us, there was only now.

I stared out across the turbulent sea from the window of Dragonstone, my heart heavy with longing. The sound of footsteps behind me broke the silence. 

Jace's voice was bitter, edged with anger. "You're crying again," he said, his frustration palpable.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, wiping the tears from my face, though it did nothing to hide the evidence.

"You have to let him go," Jace pressed, his voice sharper now, filled with a pain that mirrored my own. "Don't forget that his brother killed Luke—our Luke. How could you forget that?"

"I haven't," I replied, though my throat was tight, and the words felt like shards of glass. "I can't."

Jace's stare bore into me, but I could no longer meet his gaze. I stood, pushing past him, needing the sky, the wind, and the open air. 

Needing him.

It was madness, and I knew it. He knew it too. But the pull was stronger than reason, stronger than blood and betrayal. 

I had to see him, had to make sense of the storm of emotions that threatened to tear me apart.

I mounted my dragon, her wings catching the wind as we soared into the clouds. My heart raced as I flew toward him, knowing he would be there, knowing he was coming to me too.

Above the clouds, Tessarion's cry pierced the air—a streak of blue and copper, flying in tandem with me. I landed sharply on a sandy beach, the world around us a blur of wind and sea as I watched him dismount. 

My legs moved on their own, and before I knew it, I was in his arms, sobbing into his chest.

"Daeron," I choked out, my words lost between my gasps and the crash of waves. 

His arms tightened around me, his hand stroking my hair, shushing me as though we weren't standing on the precipice of destruction.

"My love, I've missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His violet eyes, the same eyes that haunted my dreams, shimmered with unshed tears. 

He looked more beautiful than I remembered, the time apart having only sharpened the features I loved.

"And I, you," I breathed, tilting my head up toward him.

In that moment, all the wars, all the betrayals melted away. His lips found mine in a kiss that stole my breath, a kiss that silenced every doubt, every fear. 

It was deep, desperate, a hunger that could never be sated—a love that could only end in ruin.

But we didn't care. Not then. Not yet. 

The world could burn around us, and still, it wouldn't matter.

The salty air clung to us as we stood there on the beach, the crashing waves a distant echo to the storm raging inside our hearts. 

Daeron held me close, his hand stroking my hair gently as I tried to steady my breath. 

I looked up at him, his face still so familiar, so achingly beautiful despite the chaos that surrounded us. 

I wanted to stay like this, frozen in time, but the reality of the war pressed down on us like a weight too heavy to ignore.

"The war..." I began, my voice trembling, "It's only getting worse, isn't it?"

Daeron's expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he nodded. 

"Yes," he whispered, "Aegon's grip is tightening, and my mother... she's more relentless than ever. She's pushing for more alliances, more battles. Rhaenyra..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought, but I knew what he meant. 

My mother, our queen, wasn't backing down either. Blood had already been spilt, and it wouldn't stop. Not until the realm was torn apart.

"I can't bear it," I said, tears welling up again. "Every time I close my eyes, I see Luke. I see his face..." My voice cracked, and I could barely breathe. 

"And I can't stop thinking—what if it's you next, Daeron? What if they take you from me too?"

His grip on me tightened, his violet eyes filled with sorrow and determination. 

"They won't," he said firmly, though I could hear the fear beneath his words. "I won't let that happen. I've already lost so much... I can't lose you."

I buried my face in his chest, trying to drown out the images of war, of death. 

For a moment, I felt his heartbeat under my cheek, strong and steady, and I let myself believe we could outrun it all. But I had to know. I had to hear him say it. 

"Daeron, what are we going to do?" I asked, my voice small. "We can't keep meeting like this... sneaking around, hiding in the shadows. We're on opposite sides of a war that will destroy us both."

He was silent for a moment, the weight of the truth hanging in the air between us. "I know," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "I've been thinking... thinking about a way out."

I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. 

"What do you mean?" I asked, though part of me already knew. His gaze shifted as if he was afraid to say it out loud.

"We could run," he said quietly. "We could leave all of this behind—the war, the blood, the lies. We could go somewhere they'll never find us, live the life we should have had. Together."

My breath caught in my throat. The very idea seemed impossible, and yet, it was the only thing that made sense. The thought of running away, leaving behind the death and destruction, was like a lifeline in the storm.

"Run away?" I repeated, my voice shaking, not with fear, but with hope. "You really think we could?"

He nodded, his eyes lighting up with the spark of desperation, of a dream we had both silently shared but never dared speak. 

"Yes. There are places in Essos, far beyond the reach of the crown, where no one would know us. We could live quietly... peacefully. We wouldn't have to hide anymore."

For a moment, the image flickered in my mind—an open sky, a distant land, just the two of us, free from the chains of duty and war. No more dragons. No more crowns. Just Daeron and me, safe in each other's arms.

"But..." My voice wavered as the reality of the situation crept back in. 

"Would they ever stop looking for us? What if they find us? My mother—your mother they would never forgive us. They'd brand us traitors."

"I do not care," Daeron said fiercely, his eyes blazing. 

"Let them hate us. Let them curse our names. All I care about is you. If we stay, it will destroy us, one way or another. Either the war will tear us apart, or our families will. But if we leave now if we escape there's a chance we can build something new. Something they can't touch."

I stared at him, my heart torn between love and fear, between hope and duty. 

Could I really leave everything behind? Could I leave my family, my brothers, and the throne that my mother fought so hard to protect?

But then I thought of Jace's words, of the pain in his eyes when he spoke of Luke, of how this war had already taken so much from us. 

How much more would it steal before it was over? And for what? A crown? A seat of power that had cost us our innocence, our lives, our love?

The thought of abandoning my family felt like a knife in my gut. But the thought of losing Daeron again? It would shatter me in ways I couldn't even fathom.

"I want that too," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I want to leave, to be with you. But we need a plan, Daeron. We can't just fly away and hope they don't find us."

He nodded, his expression serious now. "I know. We'll need time to prepare. We'll need supplies and a place to go where no one will look for us. I will arrange everything on my end. I can slip away from court without raising suspicion."

"And I'll gather what I can from Dragonstone," I added. "But it has to be soon. The longer we wait, the harder it will be to escape."

"Agreed," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "We'll meet again in a week's time, here, at dawn. Once everything is in place, we'll leave Westeros behind... forever."

My heart swelled with both fear and hope, but as I looked into his eyes, I knew there was no turning back. I would leave everything behind for him. For us.

"Promise me," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the waves. "Promise me you'll come."

"I swear it," Daeron replied, his voice as steady as his gaze. "I'll be here. Nothing will keep me from you."

We stood there in silence for a long moment, the weight of our vow sinking into the air around us. I knew the path we had chosen was dangerous, reckless even, but I also knew it was the only way we could truly be free.

"I love you," I whispered, my fingers brushing his cheek.

"And I love you," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "Always."

With one last kiss, full of the promise of the future we would build together, we parted, both knowing it could be the last time we ever saw each other in this world. But we vowed to return. We vowed to run.

And no matter what it cost us, we would be free.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ─── 

A week passed, each day slower than the last, each hour filled with the weight of what was to come. The war continued to rage around us, but I had clung to the hope of our escape, holding onto the dream of a life far away from the bloodshed and betrayal. 

I counted down the days until we could be together—until we could leave Westeros behind forever.

The night before our planned escape, the sea outside Dragonstone roared with fury, as if it sensed the storm building within me. 

I couldn't sleep, my thoughts too wild, too tangled with fear and hope. 

I kept thinking of Daeron—wondering if he, too, was awake, wondering if he was preparing to leave behind everything he'd ever known. Wondering if we could really do it.

As dawn broke, I mounted my dragon and flew to the place we had promised to meet—the same sandy beach where we had whispered our vows just days ago. 

The wind bit at my face, and my heart pounded with anticipation and fear. 

My mind conjured images of the future—of us living free, far away from this war, from the weight of our families. It felt so close as if I could reach out and touch it.

But as I landed on the beach, something was wrong. Tessarion was there, Daeron's dragon, but she seemed agitated, her blue and copper scales shimmering uneasily in the morning light. 

And then I saw him.

Daeron was there, dismounted from his dragon, but he was slumped against her side, barely holding himself upright. My heart dropped into my stomach.

I rushed toward him, panic clawing at my chest. "Daeron!" I called my voice already breaking. 

As I got closer, I saw the blood—too much blood. His tunic was soaked in it, a deep crimson spreading across his side.

"No," I whispered as I reached him, dropping to my knees beside him. "No, no, no..."

His face was pale, his eyes half-lidded, but they fluttered open when I touched his cheek. He tried to smile, but it was weak, a shadow of the smile I had known.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, his voice rasping like it took everything in him to speak.

"Daeron, what happened?" I gasped, my hands shaking as I pressed them to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, though I knew it was useless. 

His body was cold, far too cold, and the blood kept flowing no matter how much pressure I applied.

"Aegon..." he choked, his breath laboured. "He found out... He knew I was planning to leave... He couldn't let me go... not after... after everything. We fought... but I couldn't..."

Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head, refusing to believe what was happening. "No. Don't. Don't say that. You're going to be fine, we're going to leave together. You're going to be fine, Daeron. I'll get help. Just—just stay with me. Please."

But his hand gripped mine weakly, and his violet eyes were already dimming. "It's too late," he said, his voice breaking. "I... I tried to make it, I had to see you one last time..."

"Stop it!" I cried, my voice hoarse. "Don't talk like that! We're supposed to leave together. You promised me, Daeron! You promised!"

His fingers brushed my cheek, his touch barely there. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. "I love you. I always have."

I sobbed as I clutched him to my chest, rocking back and forth as if I could somehow hold him together, keep him alive through sheer will. 

His breath rattled like the wind before a storm, each exhale quieter than the last. I held him tighter, willing his heartbeat to stay steady, but it was fading beneath my hands. 

The coppery smell of blood filled the air, and the sand beneath us turned dark, soaking up the last of him.

"Please, don't leave me," I begged, my words choking in my throat. "Don't leave me alone. I can't do this without you. I can't..."

His breath hitched, his body shuddering in my arms. He tried to speak again, but the words were lost, swallowed by the blood that spilt from his lips. 

And then, with one final, broken breath, he was still.

I stared down at him, my heart shattered into pieces so small I could never put them back together. The world around me disappeared, the sound of the waves, the screeching of the dragons—none of it mattered. 

All I could see was Daeron's lifeless face, the warmth leaving his body, the dream we had shared slipping away like sand through my fingers.

"Daeron..." I whispered, my voice breaking under the weight of my grief. "You can't leave me. Please don't leave me."

But he was gone.

A sob tore from my throat, so raw it felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. I held him tighter, as if holding him could bring him back as if the gods would take pity on us, but they didn't. 

They never did.

I looked around, my vision blurred with tears, and I saw the dagger at his side, stained with the blood of his final battle. My heart screamed in agony, the world spinning around me, dark and empty. I couldn't see a life without him. 

I couldn't bear to face this war, this world, without the one person I had lived for.

I pulled the dagger from his belt, the cold steel biting into my hand as I held it. My breath came in ragged gasps as I stared at the blade, the only escape from the pain that now consumed me. 

I had lost him—there was nothing left for me here. I had nothing without him.

"I can't," I whispered to the wind, my voice shaking. "I can't do this without you."

I pressed the dagger to my chest, right where my heart still ached for him, and closed my eyes. It felt cold against my chest, but nothing could match the chill that had already settled in my heart. 

In my mind, I saw the life we were supposed to have, the life we would never live. 

I saw us running through a field, laughing under the sun, free from the chains of duty and war. I saw his smile, felt his arms around me, and in that moment, I knew where I had to go.

"I'm coming," I whispered. "Wait for me."

And then, without another thought, I plunged the dagger deep into my heart.

The pain was brief, a sharp, searing agony that quickly faded, replaced by a strange sense of calm.

I collapsed beside him, my blood mixing with his in the sand, our bodies entwined as they always should have been. 

As the darkness crept in, my last thoughts were of him—of his smile, his laugh, his kiss. We had been doomed from the start, bound by love and fate to an end neither of us could escape. 

But now, in death, we would finally be free. Together. Forever.

And as my vision faded to black, the last breath leaving my body, I saw him—waiting for me, his hand outstretched, his smile warm, as if nothing had ever come between us at all.

A/n - This was so so fun to write!! I truly hope I did the req justice <3

[viiper1]

The perfect Date.

The ideal date they would plan for you.

Head canons

Mentioned: Armin, Jean, eren, Conny, Reiner

Armin Arlert.

Would start off with a Picknick near a flower field.

Would make you a flower crown.

You’d watch the sunset together and do cloud gazing/star gazing (depending on how long you guys stayed)

Or Picknick at the beach

and if he thinks you’re the type of person to like or value that sort of thing he will give you cute seashells he found.

Afterwards you’d take a walk on the beach, walking barefoot in the sand during the sunset.

He’d probably take some pictures too to remember this date. For some reason he always takes the best pictures of you without even really trying.

And MIGHT gift you a self made memory book or a handwritten letter.

If it’s colder he’d take you ice skating

will teach you how to properly skate because you keep falling on your ass.

Don’t worry he’s catching you (most of the times)

Connie Springer.

Would take you to an arcade or a gaming center (and laugh at you every time you lose to him) would swear that you cheated when you win against at him more than once.

You two almost spend the whole day there completely forgetting about the time because you were having so much fun.

Or a amusement park/fun fair

he will try to encourage you if you’re scared to ride a ride

and even make fun of you a little bit “don’t tell me you’re scared, how cute” he teases

On the ride you’re BOTH screaming your asses off.

“You seemed scared…at your grown age…cute I guess” You made fun of him tease him back.

You two almost ride all the roller coasters

He tried to win you a plushie on claw machine but it takes him like 6 tries untill he gets one small plushy

“I swear these machines are rigged!” He says but then tries again on a different machine.

You make him ride the Ferris wheel with you at the end.

Jean Kirstein.

Drive in movie theater,

If you’re watching a scary movie it’s probably because he thought you’d snuggle into him in fear but then he’d be the one to claw on to you but he swears on his grandma that he isn’t scared.

Dinner date but he’s making dinner for you.

Idk why but I love the thought of Jean making dinner for his lover.

OR you’re both cooking together,

maybe even messing around and smearing a bit of flower on his face but he’d definitely get revenge for that one.

He’d have candles lit and the lights out, it would be super romantic.

Surprisingly the food doesn’t taste bad.

Afterwards if you’re not too tired, you both would point portraits of each other and he’s lowkey a good painter so he did a really nice job.

If you’re too tired you’d just snuggle in bed and watch a movie.

Eren Yeager.

Also Arcade or gaming center

it was supposed to be cute a first but it turns very competitive very fast

he doesn’t like to lose and if he does he’ll say he let you win on purpose.

You better watch out at laser tag he will not hold back just because you’re his gf.

Takes most games supper serious and you barely have a chance at winning.

Feels kinda bad afterwards so he buys you a plushy and roses at the store around the corner as a surprise.

Or a rooftop restaurant dinner/bar

the view was so beautiful, it felt unreal,

he was paying ofc

He bought you a bracelet with the initial “E” on it, and expects you to wear it everyday.

Will ask why you’re not wearing it if he doesn’t see it on your arms throughout the relationship/marriage.

Reiner Braun.

Romantic fancy dinner

He would 100% stand there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and open the car door for you.

It’s a Very fancy restaurant but he didn’t tell you so you lowkey look like you wandered into the wrong building. He feels kinda bad afterwards when you tell him you feel out of place and underdressed.

You already KNOW he’s paying.

Or picnic and candle painting

He’d try his best to make a pretty candle but he’s not as good at it as you.

He puts them in the loving room but doesn’t really want to use the candles because he doesn’t want them to ‘disappear’

After you made him go on another candle painting date in hops that you get to burn at least one of the, now four, candles he still insists on not using them and suggests a different normal candle.

Ofc if you Insist on wanting to use one of the four, he’ll let you but he’s lowkey a bit sad to see them go since they reminded him of the date.

Thank you for reading<3

@briefpeachdinosaur

[callsign-venus]

Be Mine | Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: It’s a February weekend and Jake has a surprise for you — but you don’t know if you’re ready.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: LOTS of fluff

a/n: My first Jake fic! This was inspired by the fact that I just found out Glen Powell was at my work at the same time as me, and I didn't know (I could have met him 😭). I might have cried a little when my coworker told me lol. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this x

You loved weekends with Jake. You loved the soft falling sunlight that woke you instead of the alarm clock, the extravagant brunches he cooked instead of spoons clanking hurriedly against cereal bowls, and the prospect of spending the whole day together instead of a quick kiss in the doorway and a promise that he’d see you that evening.

So when you, half asleep, reached for him and your hands skimmed over bed sheets instead of his broad chest, you snapped awake, just as if your alarm had gone off.

“Jake?” You rubbed away the sleep in your eyes.

No answer.

Sometimes he worked weekends, but he would have told you if that was the case. And you couldn’t hear him in the kitchen, much less smell bacon or coffee. With a groan, you realized you would have to get up to investigate. You scooped Jake’s naval academy hoodie off the floor and pulled it over your head. It smelled like him, mixed with just a hint of your perfume.

The house was empty, no weekend warmth to chase out the chill that fell whenever you were home alone. It didn’t help that the sun was heavily curtained by dark gray clouds.

On the kitchen counter, there was a folded note. Your name graced the paper in his boyish handwriting.

Good morning sunshine,

I had to run some errands, be back in a few.

If you want to wear something nice, I was planning on taking you to the beach when I get back. I’ll stop and get us breakfast, so don’t cook yourself anything.

Sorry I left before you woke up, I hope you’ll accept my apology.

Love,

Jake

P.S. I love you beautiful

The P.S. was punctuated with a little doodle of you. It wasn’t exceptionally well done, but it made you giggle.

You tucked the note into your pocket and carried it with you to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

You’d nearly finished when you heard his car pull into the driveway. You set down your brush and tore through the house, nearly tackling him with a hug as he walked through the door.

“Woah, precious cargo,” he said, as he wrapped an arm around you, a paper bag full of breakfast tacos crushing against your back. An iced drink sloshed in his other hand.

You pulled back to see he’d also brought your iced coffee order from your favorite cafe. A cold feeling spread through your core.

“Did I forget something? It’s not our anniversary is it?” You asked.

“No,” he laughed. “You didn’t forget anything. Can’t I just treat my girl?”

“Of course.” You took a sip of coffee and tried to let it wash away your unfounded worries. Jake loved treating you, but something about his demeanor felt different, just a little bit on edge. There was a tick in his jaw as he set the bag of breakfast tacos on the table like they were breakable. The cold feeling spread to your fingertips.

It disappeared when you joined him at the table, and a genuine smile softened his features. You dug in, dousing the breakfast tacos in salsa verde.

“So good,” you said.

“I’m gonna have to bring you home, these breakfast tacos have nothing on the ones in Texas.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of going home to Texas with Jake. Plunging into cool watering holes in the peak heat of the day, when the sun scorched so brightly you couldn’t walk outside without sweating. Hot summer nights where cicadas sung and you could see more stars than you ever thought possible. A football game under giant stadium lights, and he’d kiss you when his team won.

You’d never been to the state, but to hear Jake describe it, it was true love. Second only to you, of course.

Jake snuck a few sips of your coffee.

“Hey!” You plucked the cup out of his grasp. “That’s mine. Didn’t you get your own?”

“Already drank it,” he said around a bite of breakfast taco.

Try as you might, you couldn’t stay mad at that face, and you pretended not to notice the next time he stole a sip of your drink.

“So,” you dabbed a napkin to the corner of your mouth after you’d finished your second taco. “What errands did you have to run at the ass crack of dawn?”

“That is a surprise,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yep.” He swept the trash into the takeout bag. “Do you want to go find out?”

You wanted nothing more.

The clouds were like gray marble over the world and the wind ushered a chill into the late morning air. Even though you’d picked out the cutest outfit, you grabbed Jake’s hoodie and threw it on before you walked out the door. It was your favorite piece of clothing – it enveloped you like a hug – but you much preferred Jake himself sitting next to you in the driver’s seat, holding onto your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. With him by your side, everything was better. Even his car smelled sweet, like fresh fruit.

He glared at the cloud cover. “I should have picked a better day.”

“It’s fine. I love this weather.” You rubbed your free hand over his bicep, and his hand relaxed against yours.

Soon, the ocean crested over the horizon. It churned dark gray, like a reflection of the sky, broken only by whitecaps. It wasn’t sunny like the beach days you and Jake had spent with the Daggers the past summer, but the sight was still beautiful.

Jake pulled into a parking lot on the bluffs overlooking the beach. As soon as you got out of the car, a gust of salty wind buffeted you. Jake tried to apologize, but your laugh rang clear over the whipping wind, and he had never known a sweeter sound. If he could hear your laugh for the rest of his life, he would be buried without a single regret.

He grabbed a picnic basket out of the trunk, took your hand, and walked you down to the beach, where the wind was creating chaos out of a picnic blanket and a bundle of pink and red balloons. Jake ran to bring order, but there was nothing he could do against nature itself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. A balloon bounced against his head. “It looked so nice when I set it up. This wind…”

“It’s ok. It’s still beautiful. Thank you.” You pecked him on the cheek. You were thankful, of course, but the surprise picnic loosened something inside of your chest. Why had he planned it? Had you actually forgotten an important day?

You sat criss-cross on the quilted blanket. With your weight holding it down, the blanket stayed in place against the wind. The balloons, however, shed their tether and danced away. Jake sprung up and gave them a quick chase, but they were much faster, and floating up towards the gray sky. He jumped, but he missed the ribbons by a few inches. Still, he ran after them for a few more yards.

When they were well out of reach, Jake jogged back. He was breathing heavily, and sand caked his feet and calves. You stopped him before he could try to apologize.

“I enjoyed them while they were here.” You looked up to see them still floating, heavenbound. “I’m still enjoying them now. Plus, I got to watch you run after them like a dork.”

“Hey!” He protested through strained breath.

“Kidding,” you said.

Jake started unpacking the picnic basket with flair. First, a bouquet of flowers – more than a dozen roses of your favorite color nestled between fluffy baby’s breath and sprigs of soft eucalyptus. Holding it made you feel like a bride.

A pang of anxiety struck you. You loved Jake. You couldn’t imagine your life without him. But you’d been dating less than a year, and you knew the rumors that servicemen moved fast. What would you say if he pulled out a ring?

You didn’t have time to worry; he was already pulling out a bowl of fruit. Strawberries, mangoes, kiwi, some cut into little hearts.

“Did you do this?” You grabbed a slice of kiwi shaped like a heart and popped it in your mouth. When he nodded, you asked, “How? When?”

“In the supermarket parking lot this morning. I brought a cutting board and a knife.”

He was dead serious. The thought of him, cutting board on his dash, carefully carving fruit for you in a parking lot made you laugh. No man had ever done anything that thoughtful for you.

Jake wondered if communion wine was as sweet as your laugh, as capable of salvation. He decided not.

He pulled out a bakery box last, and you noticed how carefully he held it. This must be the surprise. Your chest felt heavy as you imagined what could be inside. 

You didn’t know what you would do if you opened the box to a cake that said Will you marry me? If you looked up and Jake was on one knee, his eyes sparkling like the ring in his hand, launching into a monologue about how he wanted to spend his life with you. Because you couldn’t deny how much you needed him, like cut flowers needed water. This brilliant man whose hard exterior crumbled with one look at you. Who knew you like an extension of himself. Who sat in a parking lot and cut heart-shaped fruit for you because he wanted to see you smile. You would do anything for him to stay yours. Yours to please. Yours to hold. Yours to love.

You couldn’t say no. You couldn’t lose him.

He set the box in front of you and took your hand in his. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for the past few hours.” You gave his hand a squeeze. This was it. You were on the precipice. The ocean roared down below. If he asked you to jump with him, would you?

Your breath caught in your chest as you lifted the lid. Inside, a frilly pink cake. In white frosting on the top, Will you be my Valentine?

A laugh shook you, and relief unfurled under your skin. You wrapped your arms around him with such force that you both fell onto the picnic blanket.

“Yes,” you said as you attacked his perfect face with kisses. “Yes, yes, yes.”

When he couldn’t take your onslaught any longer, he wrapped his giant arms around you and crushed you against his chest. There was no place safer for you in the entire world. You swore your hearts harmonized, both perfectly in time with the beat of the waves against the sand. You could have stayed like that forever, but eventually, Jake succumbed to the sweet allure of the cake and let you go. As he cut into the soft pink shells of buttercream, your mind drifted somewhere to the future. Your hands melded with his around a knife handle, slicing into another cake – this one at least three tiers tall and white.

Jake shook you from your daydream by offering you the first slice of pink cake.

It was delicious. Your favorite flavor and his, married perfectly between layers of dark and pale pink buttercream. As you ate, the impenetrable cloud cover finally yielded to the wind, and the sun stretched its lazy rays over the two of you. Somehow, Jake ended up with a dab of frosting on the tip of his nose. You swiped it away with the pad of your thumb and licked it clean.

You felt some relief at not getting engaged. But with the taste of cake in your mouth, and the golden sun warming Jake’s skin, you felt a tinge of bittersweetness. Maybe some part of you had wanted him to ask, even though it was so soon.

But you looked at the picnic spread – the heart-shaped fruit, the bursting bouquet, even the balloons, long since claimed by the sky – and you were assured it would not be long before he got down on one knee and asked for your hand.

You knew what your answer would be.